#also why is he running around the woods with white pants? idk

[sesamenom]

realized the @blumineck pose was perfect for celegorm so here he is!

[magicalgirlmascot]

Alright more old human!Bonkles designs Hordika edition

So if memory serves, the idea was that they were stuck in their Toa forms and couldn't transform back until they got un-Hordika'd, which is why they all have their Toa hair and eye colour, as well as uniforms. The green marks on all their faces was I think supposed to be like...Visorak bite marks? Or something? I don't remember, just that the Rahaga didn't have them because they weren't mutated by Hordika venom. Anyway.

Of course Vakama was the edgy wolf boy. I mean. It was 2012 and also look at him. Honestly though what else would he be lol wolf fits

Matau, being the one most upset by the change and wanting to be human So Bad, generally tried to keep his tail around his waist like a belt (YES like in Dragon Ball Z) and wore gloves to hide his hands.

ALRIGHT DON'T JUDGE THE POSE she's supposed to be stretching out like a cat. I was 18 be nice. Anyway of course Nokama was a catgirl we needed to have a catgirl. I think it's very funny that for KNPS we've made Onewa the catgirl instead. He deserves it.

I'll be honest I'm pretty sure the main reason I made Onewa a croc was because Pokemon Black and White had just come out a couple years ago and I was obsessed with the Sandile line, so I associated crocodiles with the desert. Idk. I guess it fits him. He'll bite your legs off.

Really have no idea where this one came from if I'm being honest. I think the thought process was "big=ox?" I'm not sure.

Nuju was a bat because Ice Bats! Honestly I'm not sure why he's the only one allowed to wear jeans. I had a weird little heteronormative crush on him in college, maybe I just wanted him to be sexy, idk. He's got his belly out and everything, put that away, you're going to freeze to death and/or give Whenua a complex!

I'm not gonna lie I actually do still like the concept for this one? Something about the half-scales just speaks to me. I mean it doesn't make sense because he was definitely supposed to be some kind of gecko but it looks cool. The Rahaga's animals were all based on what kinds of animals they were meant to be good at tracking. Norik I really tried to make look like someone's friendly dad.

And then for Iruini I didn't even fucking try lmao. Yes I know his name is misspelled. He's a spider, apparently, and he does not want to fucking be here let this man go home

MILF

Coming to the distressing realization that my design choices for all the Black characters in this are just "big and beefy" which is. Not great. Pouks also doesn't want to be here. At least Onewa hadn't decided to completely forego pants and run off into the woods to bang a cryptid in this universe, so Pouks has that going for him.

Like Norik, I do like a lot of aspects to Bomonga's design here. I don't know if I like them for Bomonga specifically but I like the overall design, I think it's alright.

Honestly of all of them I think Kualus is still my favourite. He just looks good idk what to say. Also am I insane did he ever get referred to as having a scarf in canon or did I accidentally predict that by like 10 years

[separatist-apologist]

hi idk if this is a prompt or just me being emotionally needy but can you write about elucien making out? any universe you can think about.... just them kissing and being in love

(also, i’m so sorry if you’re not taking asks, feel free to take your time/not respond)

💘💘💘 💘

This was prompt ask #40!

It's SFW! It's short but I hope sweet??

--

--

If awkward was less feeling and more of a physical concept, something two people could wholly imbody, it was surely her and Lucien, dripping wet from the storm raging outside and standing inside the truly tiny cabin Rhysand and Feyre had sent them to. They were working on behalf of Night Court and, ironically, on their way back when the skies abruptly opened, sending them running. Lucien’s magic was drained from a day of winnowing and Elain still didn’t know how. Rhys had offered the space should they need it, along with several other properties dotted throughout Night, but this was the closest.

It was a closet, all things considered. It was two rooms—a large bedroom with an attached bathroom. There was no other furniture, it’s spartan interior betraying the cabin as a place Rhysand came to sleep when he had no other options available to him. “Ah…” Lucien was staring at that bed, his face filled with calculation. The bed was massive, meant to accommodate a person with wings. There was more than enough space for the pair of them. Elain slapped a smile on her face.

“This is good,” she lied because it was horrible…just not for the reasons he thought. Things had been tense between them for years and she was more than happy to take the blame for that. But they’d thawed in the wake of this intracourt mission, creating friendly relationships through dining, dancing, and drinking.

Elain was in love. The feeling had slammed into her like a ton of bricks when they were in Summer, dancing beneath a hazy sunset, her skirt fanned around her like she was a princess in a storybook. He’d held her like she was made of spun glass, like she was infinitely precious, his beautiful face lit up with a smile.

She wanted to tell him but…but he remained polite but distant and she couldn’t help the self-doubt she felt. Maybe…maybe this was just business for him. He’d let her come because Rhys and Feyre demanded it of him and he couldn’t wait to be done. If she’d been less of a coward she would have just asked.

Lucien went into the bathroom and returned with a stack of folded clothes that clearly belonged to Rhysand. He said little, tossing pants that were far too big and a shirt she was certain she’d swim in before he left her alone in the main room. She made quick work of her dress, literally peeling it from her body.

She had a good laugh when she tried on the pants. From behind the bathroom door, something thudded loudly just after the sound and she wondered if Lucien hadn’t tripped when he heard her laughing. Wishful thinking and yet…Elain decided not to bother with the pants at all and instead pulled on the large white shirt. The shoulder immediately fell down one arm, holding the other up and when Lucien returned Elain was rolling the sleeves. It was more night dress than anything, stopping just beneath her ass. He froze in the doorway, his own clothes much better fitted, eyes fixed on her bare legs.

She flushed. “We can dry our clothes by the stove,” she murmured, gesturing towards the wood burning stove she was hoping Lucien could ignite.

“Ah…yes,” he said as though there wasn’t one thought in his mind. That was confirmed when he continued to stand there just staring. Elain left her dress hanging over an exposed pipe by the window and walked to the bed, pulling the cover down.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Lucien said quickly.

“Why?” She replied. He paused again.

“Privacy?” He asked, as though he wasn’t sure himself. Elain gestured down her body.

“I think we’re past that. This bed is huge, there’s room for us both.”

Lucien’s swallow was audible. “Okay.”

Still, she had to get beneath the cold blankets before he finally walked over, every inch of him radiating with discomfort. Her stomach sank. How could she tell him she loved him when he could hardly stand to lay beside her in the same bed?

Lucien tucked a piece of hair behind his bed. “What were your feelings of Dawn?” He asked after a moment, staring at his tanned, broad hands resting in his lap. Elain was laying but Lucien remain sitting. She sighed.

“Does it matter?” She asked without thinking, still ruminating over her own self-pity. He was her mate, and he didn’t even want her. What did that say about her? Lucien whipped his head towards her.

“Of course it matters,” he insisted with such passion Elain scooted upwards against the wooden headboard until she sat, too. “I wouldn’t have asked you to come if I didn’t care what you thought.”

“Rhys and Feyre made you take me,” she reminded him but Lucien shook his head no.

“I asked for you to join me. I’ve been asking for years,” he admitted.

“Oh…” She frowned. “Why?” His eyebrows shot skyward just as lightning. “Why?” He repeated incredulously, as though he couldn’t believe she’d asked such a thing. “I just assumed…surely you must know?”

Her heart pounded against her rib cage.

“No?” She whispered.

Lucien just laughed. “Okay. Okay, Elain. You don’t know. You think…what? That I picked your name randomly from a hat? That when I was debating who would be fun to spend time with, yours was just another on a long list of people? You know why I chose you.”

“Because I’m your mate,” she said with too much confidence, pleased he wasn’t upset. Lucien stared, open mouthed like he didn’t believe she was as dumb as she was proving herself to be.

“Have…have I been subtle?”

“Maybe?” She replied, genuinely afraid for what he came next.

“Ah. Well…that’s on me, then. I’m in love with you.”

Elain burst out laughing because of course he was, in retrospect. The way he’d stared, his fear to get into bed with her…she was so happy all she could do was laugh.

“This wasn’t the reaction I was hoping for,” he muttered, his brown cheeks reddening at the sound.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed, reaching for his hand. “It’s just, I thought it was only me and I’ve been torturing myself with thinking you didn’t for weeks.”

“For…weeks…” Lucien repeated, letting her squeeze his hand. “For weeks?”

“Since Summer—”

“Elain that was the second court we visited,” he reminded her impatiently. “We’ve been to four others since.”

“I know.”

He swallowed. “I wish you would have told me. When? What moment…just…so I know for the future. Was it the barge?”

She nodded. “While we danced.”

His face erupted with a smile. “I thought maybe…you were looking at me…but you took off so fast afterwards that I convinced myself I imagined it.”

“I panicked,” she admitted. “I didn’t mean to.”

He nodded. “Do you regret it?”

“No!” She said quickly, scooting closer. “No…I regret not telling you sooner, if anything.”

Lucien nodded, still smiling, still so unbelievably handsome that it made her heart race. “I’m just happy you said it at all.”

She scooted closer still, twisting her body until their shoulders touched. Lucien reached for her, brushing still damp hair from her face. “I like the shirt on you,” he added. “I just wish it was mine.”

“Warm yours up and I’ll put it on,” she replied, breathless by the closeness of his mouth.

“I’d rather kiss you,” he replied, drawing her face closer. Elain nodded, eyes fluttering shut. She’d been daydreaming about his mouth pressed against hers for longer than she’d liked him but especially since she’d fallen in love with him.

His lips were warm and softer than she imagined and though she knew he had centuries of experience on her, Lucien did little more than fit his lips between hers and kiss, his hand gently holding her face.

It was exactly what she’d hoped for. There was heat but no urgency, as though he shared her opinion that had all the time in the world. She broke the kiss, grinning like an idiot at how serious Lucien looked.

“You’re killing me,” he whispered, lips ghosting over her own.

“I like to make you work for it,” she replied cheekily. He nodded.

“I’m well aware of that.”

“Does it bother you?” She asked him a moment before he recaptured her mouth, kissing her hotly, with more demand than before. She couldn’t deny the blooming arousal in her stomach, warring with the butterflies scattered throughout her chest. Her pounded an erratic beat, hands tangled in his long, semi-wet hair.

He licked the seam of her lips and Elain yielded, delighted to find he tasted exactly as wonderful as he smelled, masculine and crisp, like a cool Autumn Day. Elain moved closer, practically crawling into his lap to get closer, sliding her tongue along his own. Lucien ran a hand down her back, the other still holding her face, groaning at the first feel of her.

She hoped she tasted good to him, hoped she was a good kisser in comparison to the others he’d surely spent time with. Judging by how hungry his kisses seemed, Elain chose to believe this was good for him, too.

Her teeth nipped softly at his bottom lip, earning her another groan that made her whole body feel tight. Lucien kissed like a man dying, like he could never get enough which suited Elain just fine considering she felt the same.

They broke apart panting and laughing softly, Elain firmly held in his lap. Lucien adjusted himself carefully so when she settled against his chest, her back pressed against him, she felt nothing but the hard muscle of his body. Lucien rested his forehead against her chin.

“We could always…go back to Summer, you know,” he murmured after a moment. “And then maybe revisit Day…Winter too, if you’d like…”

“Are you trying to avoid returning home?”

He shrugged. “They’ll want to talk to us and they’ll have questions and other assignments…what’s stopping us from just spending some more time away?”

“Do you not want people to know?” She asked, heart sinking just a little.

“I want everyone to know,” Lucien contradicted. “I’ll send Rhys a letter right now if you like. I just don’t feel like sharing you, either.”

“You’ll have to eventually,” she teased, kissing him again. Lucien only grinned.

“We’ll see about that.”

[symphonic-scream]

Okay so here's the summary of what happens in the first section of the ML Genshin au. If you're overly familiar with the lore of the game itself sorry in advance cause things are gonna be different. It's a mix of wanted to incorporate new ideas and I don't remember everything exactly lmao

This of course contains Spoilers for the first three Archon quests in Genshin Impact :) so there you've been warned. Also warning: long post. I'm sorry

--

So the story starts with two travelers soaring through the skies, visiting world after world as they go. However their journey is cut short when they encounter a strange god in the heavens above one such world

The travelers hold out against her for as long as they can, but she gets the upper hand, capturing one of the two travelers. She seals away the powers of the other, trapping him in this world

Some time passes. Our traveler has spent his time trying to survive in the wild in this new world, and has now fished a strange creature up out of the sea. Some floating cat thing, that insists he's not a cat. He calls himself Plagg

Our traveler is blond, with striking green eyes. His outfit is very strange, looking kinda like,, a thick leather armour type stuff but softer. There are dark stars on his shoulders, wrists, on the belt, and in the centre of his chest, and his shirt cuts off at the base of his ribs. Pants are much the same, boots ending just below the knees, and he's got some fancy golden gloves and padding on the knees

The traveler explains what he remembers of his story to Plagg, introducing himself as Adrien. He's not of this world, and he's going to find his identical cousin Felix, who was taken by a strange god, no matter what it takes

Plagg decides to be his guide in this world, which he calls Teyvat, and agrees to help him find the god and his cousin. He explains that Teyvat is divided into seven Nations, each under the rule of one of seven gods called Archons, collectively "the Seven". The land they're in now is called Mondstadt, the nation belonging to the Archon of freedom. And Anemo, the element of wind

Plagg leads Adrien into a small valley, a statue resting in the middle of a small lake right in the centre. The guide calls it a Statue of the seven, this one modeled after Barbatos, the name used for the Anemo Archon. Plagg believes there's a chance the strange god could be one of the seven, so perhaps praying to the statue may give them some answers

However when Adrien gets close, he's infused with a strange power. He now has control over Anemo

This is odd to Plagg because in Teyvat, only humans with something called a vision can use elemental abilities. Visions are gifts from the Archons, used to show who has earned their favour through what's usually some inhuman feat or something like that I guess

The statue left more questions than answers, so Plagg decides they should try to find the god in person in the City of Mondstadt. However on their way to the forest that will lead to the city, a dragon flies overhead

Plagg decides a dragon is too much work to deal with and suggests they turn back, cause maybe your cousin will show up on his own- wait - hey come back here-

Adrien marches on, interested in meeting a dragon. He walks carefully through the trees, stopping short when he spots the dragon and a shorter figure

The person slowly approaching the dragon has their back to Adrien, with pinkish-red hair, wearing a somewhat fancy looking grey hooded jacket, black high boots, and dark cyan trousers. On their left shoulder, attached to their lapel, is a spring green/seafoam?? Kinda? Idk- coloured gem

Their hand is outstretched towards the dragon, who growls lowly as the figure shushes them. Adrien leans in to see better, snapping a twig beneath his boots. At the sudden noise the dragon shoots off into the sky, flying off. The figure whips around to face Adrien, summoning a sword from thin air (vision users can just do this?? There's really no explanation that I've cared to read haha). The figure turns and runs off into the woods after staring at Adrien for a moment

Adrien and Plagg continue on their way through the woods, coming out the other end with no other issues. Once they exit the forest, a woman is calling for their attention

She's dressed in for the outdoors, emerald kinda green overalls that are cut like shorts, white,, idk kinda like tights but thicker?? And brown boots, the same colour as the pretty much useless belt around her waist, where a bright green gem and little pouches rest. Under the overalls is a navy collared shirt, soft fabric, button open at the top, a brown half jacket (cut like a crop top) open over it. Dark hair in two pigtails, bright blue eyes

She introduces herself as Marinette, an adventurer assisting the Knights of Favonius, who protect the city, with keeping monsters at bay from the city. She asks Adrien what he and his, cat? ("IM NOT A CAT!") Are doing outside the city, and he tells her he's looking for his cousin, and maybe Barbatos

Marinette explains that they haven't heard from their god in years, and only recently have they gotten any sign that the Archon actually exists, with the first Anemo vision to be given out in ages and the dragon attacks

Adrien helps her clear out a little monster camp before they head into the city, with Marinette planning on taking Adrien to see the Acting Grand Master to see if she can help

But OH NO DRAGON ATTACK. Adrien hears a voice and suddenly he's got boosted abilities, flying (using a wind glider) up with the dragon, chasing it away from the city by blasting it with Anemo energy

When he lands Marinette asks him what the hell he just did, and someone else steps in, claiming they were about to say the same thing. This woman has orange cat ears sticking out of bobbed orange hair, and is wearing glasses over teal eyes

She's got a simple, dark blue jacket on over a light blue collared shirt, a brown vest between the two. Dark pants, tall metallic, silver boots, a small kinda waist cape?? Idk what they are but she's got one and it's white and furred. A pale baby blue vision hangs from the side of her belt

This is Sabrina, one of the Captains with the knights, Marinette explains. Sabrina escorts the two of them to the headquarters of the knights, claiming the Acting Grand Master wants to speak with them

The Acting Grand Master has long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, and tired blue eyes. She wears a long dark coat, an orangey brown vision just off the right shoulder. Under the jacket is a dark brown, thick blouse and vest combo. Her pants are a pale brown, and her boots are the same as Sabrina's. Her clothing looks rather lavish

The Acting Grand Master, Chloe, she insists they call her, listens to Adrien's tale. She explains she can help once things calm down with the whole dragon thing. He wants to help, but she can't just let him in for liability reasons and strikes a deal. If he can locate the one citizen that didn't check in and confirm their health after the attack, he earns honorary knight status

The knights and adventurers head out to seek out the temples of three of the four winds while Adrien and Plagg look for this missing person. They follow traces of Anemo energy, leading them to the roof of the knights headquarters where they come face to face with the figure from the woods, the missing citizen

The citizen attempts to run, but they stop her and say the knights are looking for her. The figure cautiously introduces herself as Alix Kubdel, watching the duo cautiously

Plagg speaks first breaking the silence, asking her about what she was doing with the dragon. You know, the dragon that attacked the city? Got an explanation for that?

Alix hesitates but explains that she was trying to calm down the dragon, bond with it. When asked why, she finally explains that she's the New Anemo Archon, and she's still getting used to what she has to do

New? What do you mean new? Plagg kinda hounds at her, Adrien apologizes, and Alix says the last Archon died, and she was eventually chosen as a replacement

By now the knights are returning from the temples and Adrien takes Alix in to talk with Chloe to convince her that they don't need to kill "Stormterror", the name given to the dragon by the city. Alix corrects them, stating his name is Dvalin

Alix has to reveal to Chloe as well that she's the new Archon in order to convince her to let them try Alix's "bonding plan", and they set into action. The group sets off for the lair of the dragon, to confront him headon

Adrien fights the dragon the same way as before, realizing Alix was the one that gave him the ability to do the funky blasting and flying, and then they've got him weak enough that Adrien can do some weird otherworldly healing thing on him

Apparently the dragon was poisoned by the monsters from the Abyss, and was under their orders. Without the aid of the Archon he couldn't fight it, but now that he's met the new Archon, Alix, all is great and dandy and they have a fun chat

They all head back to the city to celebrate, but they're ambushed by a group called the Fatui from one of the other nations, Schnezneya. During the ambush a woman known as Signora, one of the Harbingers who executes the will of the Cryo Archon, gets a hold of Alix

She snatches something called a gnosis from her, leaving her weak on the ground as they flee. The gnosis, uh, it holds like,, uh, the godly powers of an Archon? It's what makes em an Archon I guess? Sorta? Anyways Alix's was stolen so she doesn't have it now

And that's pretty much it. Alix goes to heal at this big ass tree and advises Adrien fo go check out the next nation, Liyue, and their Archon Morax, to see about his cousin and thats it

Adrien would do other stuff before leaving including meeting two Alchemists and helping them explore a mountain, assisting the two owners of the Harmony Tavern with some bullshit and all that but yeah

This is a very condensed version, of the events, but anymore detail and this would be that much longer lmao

If you have any questions comments complaints or whatever let me know. Sorry this was long I tried to condense it as best I could,

[corvus--rex]

Semi-abandoned for now. I have a vague idea of the endgame, but absolutely no middle or coherent plot. It was originally meant to be another Omegaverse (which it still may be, idk rn), so it's a little weird not in that context. This one is modern magic and Lance and Keith are about 400 year old witches.

~*~*~*~

Crash. The sound of metal on metal. Muffled cursing. This was not what Keith was expecting to hear when he let himself into his apartment after closing the shop alone because Lance said he needed to work on a project. But that’s what he heard. And it was coming from the kitchen. He couldn’t help the soft snicker that escaped him as he kicked his shoes off and dropped his keys on the table. He silently padded across the living room to the kitchen, leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed. His boyfriend Lance had dropped onto the kitchen island. Supporting his weight on his elbows, he stared intently at his tablet while surrounded by disaster.

“Need some help with your project?” Keith asked, lips twisted in an amused smirk.

Lance shot up. His expression passed from panic to relief in a split second. “I have no idea how I managed to fuck this up. So, yes. Yes, I do.”

With a twist of his fingers, Keith cleaned up the mess Lance had made. Dishware was instantly cleaned and returned to shelves and cabinets, ingredients slotted back into place, utensils placed back into drawers. He sauntered into the kitchen and directly up to Lance, wrapping his arms around his long-time boyfriend and gently kissing him.

“Now,” he said, “How about I take care of dinner for us?”

Lance dropped his head on Keith’s shoulder. “Please. You’d think I would have figured this out after three hundred years.”

Keith just laughed. “Kitchen magic has never been your strong suit, love.”

“Well aware. But this was something Hunk sent me, so I figured that I’d at least be able to figure that one out.” He couldn’t hide the pout in his voice.

“Well, maybe all three of us can work on that. Do you not remember how much I used to suck in the kitchen?”

Lance snorted. “If by suck you mean how many hearths did you blow up, then yes.”

“Asshole. Anyway,” Keith said pointedly, “I’ll get started here if you could set the table.”

“Absolutely,” Lance answered. He kissed the tip of Keith’s nose before twirling away with a light laugh. He snapped his fingers, directing tableware across the kitchen to the table. He jumped, plates and silverware faltering in the air before returning to their path, when Keith smacked his ass on the way by. Lance let out a high-pitched scoff in mock offense. “Don’t make me drop everything!”

Keith just laughed again, violet eyes skimming over the tablet’s screen.

Elsewhere in the city of Altea, a lone figure sat at a workbench, hunched over the worn, pitted surface. Their hands passed over the herbs and crystals laid over a complex sigil, fingers twisting in precise, intricate motions. The lines of the sigil flared to life, silvery blue twining with pale lavender. The herbs smoldered to ash around the crystals, which absorbed the herbs’ essence and the light from the sigil, refracting the light around the room in a twisted, sickly rainbow. The crystals cracked, the lines breaking the rainbows into fractured pieces scattered across the walls. The cracks spread, splintering the crystals until they crumbled to a coarse sand and fell back to the bench’s surface. The figure chuckled softly, a wide grin spread across their face. The crystal sand rose and floated into a waiting glass bowl, raining down on a pair of miniature portraits.

Both portraits dated from the eighteenth century. One held the image of a pale young man in soft pink, raven hair pulled into a low ponytail tied with a black ribbon, the other of another young man with deep golden skin dressed in powder blue, soft, deep brown curls tied back with a navy ribbon.

The figure ran fingertips along the glass. “Soon it will all be over,” they whispered, voice hoarse with disuse.

“Oh, fuck me. Lance, we’re late,” Keith yelled as he sat up in bed the next morning.

Lance rolled out of bed, startled awake. He checked his alarms that should have woken him already. All three of them were turned off. He also noticed that they only had ten minutes before they needed to leave to get to the shop in time to open. “I’ll call Pidge. She’s closer and knows what to do. Um, my alarms were all turned off. Are yours ok?”

Keith grabbed his phone while pulling a shirt on. He checked, and his alarms were also turned off. “No. They’re all off. What the fuck?”

“I don’t know,” Lance answered, pulling pants on with his phone tucked into his shoulder, “Oh Pidge, there you are. Hey, our alarms didn’t go off. We’re on our way, but can you open up for us?”

“What? Um, sure. I’ll be right there,” Pidge answered sleepily, “You owe me coffee for this.”

“Totally. Thanks, Pidgey.” He hung up, tossing his phone on the bed. “She says we owe her coffee, but she’ll do it.”

“Oh, thank fuck. We’ll swing by Allura’s on the way. Not like we have time for breakfast anyway,” Keith said, coming back into the bedroom with his shoes.

The pair finished dressing, ensuring they had everything they needed for the day. Keith reached for the table by the door for his keys, finding the table’s surface empty. The floor around and under the table was also devoid of keys. He searched his old leather bag, still coming up empty.

“You haven’t seen my keys, have you?” he asked.

“No, but I have mine. They’ll turn up. They’re probably just behind something. We’ll find them, don’t worry about it,” Lance said soothingly while rubbing his knuckles in circles on Keith’s back.

“Yeah,” Keith sighed, “Well, we’d better get going.”

Keith settled into the passenger seat as Lance pulled out of the garage, still upset about the alarms and his keys. He knewhe’d dropped the keys on the table the night before and was at a complete loss as to where they could be. And the thing with their alarms being turned off. That was even stranger. Soon he was lost in thought, his brain attempting to pick apart the how and why. Lance knew better than to interrupt the train of thought, especially at this hour. He let it go until they pulled up in front of Café Oriande.

“Hey, we’re here,” he said, nudging Keith’s leg.

Keith snapped his attention from the window and his thoughts. “Hm? Oh. Yeah.”

“Ok. I admit that the alarm thing is weird, but the keys will turn up. It’s not the first time shit like that’s happened, and it’s definitely not the last time. Please, stop worrying about it.”

“I’ll try, but no promises.”

Lance laughed. “That’s about as much as I expected. Come on, let’s go get breakfast and fuel for the beast.”

Keith snorted. “Just don’t let her hear you call her that.”

“No thanks. I value my life.”

Walking into Oriande, they immediately spotted Allura behind one of the two espresso machines. She had her thick silver hair wrapped in a braided bun that day, her dark skin standing in stark contrast to the blue and pink of her uniform t-shirt and white apron that never showed the slightest sign of wear. Beside her at the other machine was the perky blonde barista Romelle. Coran backed out of the kitchen carrying a fresh tray of pastries, followed by Romelle’s brother Bandor toting a full ice bucket. Coran wove his way through two new faces Lance and Keith had never seen before.

Allura looked up as they came in. “Lance! Keith! I didn’t expect to see you until later!” she shouted from her position.

Romelle looked up from the drink she was making and waved excitedly with her usual bright smile. Bandor turned around, greeting the pair with a wave of the now empty ice bucket. Coran finished refilling the display case leaving the tray on the counter.

“And how are you two today?” he asked cheerily.

“Yeah, we’re running a little late today. Pidge is opening for us,” Lance said to Allura before answering Coran, “We’re good, other than that.”

“Speaking of Pidge, our resident gremlin demanded a caffeinated tribute,” Keith added.

“Oh!” Allura said, coming to the counter by the registers, “You have to meet our new recruits. This delightful girl is Merla,” she gently held the shoulders of the magenta-haired girl at the register before tapping the man behind her, “And this is my cousin Tavo.”

Tavo turned around from the drip coffee machines behind the register. He was taller and darker than Allura, his ink-dark dreads pulled up into a high ponytail. He nodded in greeting. “Always good to meet Allura’s friends,” he said before returning to the coffee machines.

“So, I heard something about a caffeine tribute?” Allura asked.

“Yeah, Pidge is opening the shop for us,” Keith answered.

“And your usual teas, or do you need something stronger?”

“Nah, tea’s fine,” Lance said, “But we will need rocket fuel for the gremlin.”

“And Coran’s magical pain au chocolat,” Keith added.

Allura snorted at the double meaning and went about filling their order.

Breakfast in hand, Allura waved them out of the café. Keith held his very large cup in both hands, adjusting the tea’s temperature to something immediately drinkable. It was half gone by the time they reached their metaphysical shop Marmora. It had been named in honor of the first coven Keith had been a part of. One that was long gone, lost to the mists of the past.

Pidge, who was a part of their current coven, made sleepy grabby hands at the coffee cup in Lance’s hand as he and Keith walked in to the shop. She tripped over herself clambering down from the tall chair behind the counter, nearly faceplanting into the old wood floor. Lance held the cup just out of her reach.

“Gimme my coffee, asshole,” she grumbled.

“I’ll do you one better,” he answered, handing her the cup and one of the boxes containing Coran’s pain au chocolat.

Pidge grabbed both, cradling them to her chest as she darted back to the chair, climbing the rungs, and settling herself cross-legged in the seat, her coffee between her legs as she tore into the pastry.

“Remind me not to feed her after midnight,” Keith said.

“I can hear you,” Pidge said through pastry and chocolate. She took a long sip of her coffee before becoming slightly more human. “So, what happened with the alarms?” she questioned.

“No idea. But all our alarms were turned off and my keys disappeared. I’ll do a summoning spell when we get home.”

“Yeah,” she answered through more pastry, “But that alarm thing is fuckin’ weird.”

“No argument there,” Lance said.

Pidge dropped the empty box in the trash beside her and made grabby hands at Lance and Keith again. “Gimme your phones, I’ll check them over.”

They both put their phones down on the wood counter. Pidge may not have been as old as they were, but she was a highly accomplished witch. She also had an almost preternatural gift for mundane technology. If there was any meddling with their phones, magical or otherwise, she’d find it.

She laced her fingers together and stretched her arms, cracking her knuckles. Fluttering fingers stilled, passing over the darkened screens. Both came to life, Pidge’s magic searching through their inner workings. A dark iridescence like an oil slick spread across both screens, filling them.

“Oh, fuck. Who’d you two piss off? This is pretty strong shit,” she said, staring at the devices in horror.

“No one that we know of,” Keith replied, “Not lately anyway.”

Pidge gave him an unimpressed look. “Define ‘lately’.”

“Fifty years or so?” he guessed.

“Ooh. Yeah, but that got taken care of. That bitch colossally fucked up and managed to drain her own magic. Do you have any idea how hard that is?” Lance added, remembering the incident.

“Very.”

“How very?” Pidge asked.

“Nearly impossible. So that would make it more like a hundred years ago, maybe a little more. I think it was about the turn of the twentieth century, right?” Keith turned to Lance for confirmation.

“Yeah, about then. But that wasn’t to do with us directly. We just got caught up in it.” Lance dismissed the idea with a flutter of his fingers. “Doesn’t matter anyway. No one’s heard from them since then. Like, at all. They vanished completely.”

Pidge was downing her coffee at an alarming rate, but put her cup down at that. “I need you to tell me everything that happened.”

“Tonight,” Keith said, “This might take a while, and I don’t want to get interrupted. Can you break that in the meanwhile?” He indicated his and Lance’s phones.

“I can try, but no promises,” she answered, taking them and her coffee to the back room.

Keith moved around to the other side of the counter, duplicating the chair for Lance. They both settled in, Keith leaning back with his tea. Lance licked the molten chocolate off his finger and turned back to Keith.

“I really hope this doesn’t have anything to do with them. If it does, we may be totally fucked.”

Keith nodded in agreement, then sat up. “But wait, didn’t the others abandon him immediately after that? He’d gone so far over they wanted nothing to do with him anymore. They went into hiding to protect themselves from him, like we did for a while. If anything, it’ll be him on his own.”

“That might be even worse. No one to hold him back after over a hundred years? We need to warn everyone involved.”

Keith put his cup down and got up, wrapping himself around Lance. “Not yet. We need to be sure it’s him first. This could have nothing to do with him. I don’t know who else would want to get at us, but we can’t just go off because of something like this. We’ll figure it out.”

Lance returned the embrace, burying his face in Keith’s shoulder. “Yeah, you’re right. We’ll let Pidge work and see what she comes up with.”

Ten minutes later, when Keith and Lance were finishing their tea, the door to the back room flew open, bouncing off the wall with a crack of electricity.

“OW! Shit! Sorry!” Pidge yelled, and pulled the door closed from her seat.

~*~*~*~

Links to the rest of the series:

1 | 2 | 3* | 4 | 5* | 6* | 7 | 8 | 9* | 10 | 11 | 12* | 13 | 14 | 15* | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19*

[leggomylino]

Stray Kids Playing Animal Crossing: New Horizons

♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫

A/n: M.List linked down below! | My very first reaction!!! :D I hope you all enjoy <3

Tag List: @distrikt9​ @hanniiesuckle17 @smolboiseavey (Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫

✧ Bang Chan ⇢ STAY Island ✧

Passport Title ⇢ Crisp Ringleader

Okay family

As our ENFJ king Chan would totally have a island that revolved around the others 

Sure he’d have his own space too

But he’d def be one to put up lots of fun camping space and interactive inventions

A cute little barbecue grill on the beach with a wooden table and log benches 🥺🥺 and a picnic area too

I feel like he’d also go out of his way to breed black roses but that may just be me 😂🤷🏻‍♀️

Black and white flowers everywhere, and maybe some red roses too?

He’d also be a generous donator and frequently visit the others to see if anyone needed help with anything

Just stopping by to check in and drop off some hardwood, or iron, maybe even gold 

...That’s a big maybe on the gold cause we all know that stuff ain’t common and if you want Marshal on your island you better have some handy

In addition to this, I think that the generosity would only go so far and he’d be quite the tease too

Running around left and right ratting the others out during pranks and “borrowing” things from the others

“where’d my recipe for gold armor go???”

🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️ “idk bro I think I saw Minho running off with it?”

For villagers, he’d have a plethora of the animal kingdom on his island

Anyone is welcome

You get what you get and you don’t throw a fit 🥴

He’d def have mentions of Stay on his island too

And the guys, his squad

A Stay flag and Stray Kids written in the sand somewhere

Maybe vice versa

His character would likely be of similar resemblance but I can totally see him playing with the fun hair colors and face paint 

His wardrobe would consist of similar attire too: black, white, caps, hoodies, and chains 

Y’all AC fans know that one punk outfit with the chains across the bodice? He’d own that

His home is a toss up: on one hand it could be very chill and cozy, but on another I’m seeing workout gear in one corner and iron tables and a TV and radio going, maybe (definitely) a music studio setup (similar to Weber’s home but more hardcore LMAO)

All in all, I think Chan would be a chill/causal player that would be happy to help his friends and community while also playing hard ball once in a while just to mess with everyone 😂♥️

♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ 

✧ Lee Minho ⇢ Soodori Island ✧

Passport Title ⇢ Total Genius

Soodori is a combination of Minho’s cats

Your boy Minho couldn’t resist the ingenious idea

He’d pondered for the longest time which of his precious babies was going to be awarded the title of his island; an impossible decision

Then along comes our creative leader, “why don’t you just use all three?”

‼️‼️‼️

Genius!1!1!!1!1 😩��

On Soodori, you bet all the villagers are cats; if you don’t have pointy ears and a swishing tail, Access Denied 🙅🏻‍♀️

This means you, Han 

Villagers included would consist of Raymond, who may or may not be an island celebrity

And let’s not forget Queen Ankha

But to Minho, all his cat citizens are equally loved and cherished as a valid part of the community

His whole aesthetic would be cats too

That includes a cat cafe

His flag would probably be a paw print 🐾 or his cat’s names, maybe a cute scribbling of their faces

And if you disrespected that, there’d be blood to pay

I can see his character closely resembling him as well, with a little paw print on his cheek? Maybe some whiskers? 

He’d thoroughly enjoy visiting the others islands “if he absolutely had to”

Swipe some goods

And bundle them up to go on the plane out ✈️

For the most part, I see him being more of a hermit on his island that only heads out On Demand

Even then, it’s kind of a toss up: good luck getting him to leave his children behind 

If you’re nice to him, he MIGHT let you come and view the splendor...m a y b e

But you better not touch or take anything 🗿🔥

Shoot, when it came to special visitors, like Redd or K.K., he’d probably try chasing them off

Put those tools to use

There’s more than one way to skin a cat

(Don’t tell him I said that tho 👀💧)

♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ 

✧ Seo Changbin ⇢ DARK Island ✧

Passport Title ⇢ Music-Loving Loner

Dark, dark, dark

We all done knew, didn’t we?

Changbin is the KING of darkness

So it goes without saying that his whole island would radiate the stuff, too

It may seem depressing and a little emo at first, but eventually the concept comes off being pretty cool

...In an angsty, Evanescence sort of way

He’d probably be very lost on how to play at first...at first

He’s got Felix and Chan to help him tho, so he’d be breeding black flowers before you know it

Maybe a little gray and navy blue tones to break up the solidarity somewhere

I’m seeing a kind of night sky aesthetic, maybe some astrology furniture???

Look out, Celeste

She’s gonna be running to Big Brother Blathers saying some scary short guy is following her around the woods

Poor Binnie just wants a Starry Sky wall...until he sees how bright it actually is

Then it’s 💯 a fat pass

Binnie would kindly welcome all sorts of villagers while being minorly selective

After all, we can’t break the darkness with some cheery-idol-wannabe villager, or some Judy the anime bear

I can say with utmost certainty at 95% that his whole wardrobe would be black caps and hoodies

Maybe a plain black tee

Some black pants

And 

White or black sneakers 🥴✨

I think he would be pretty intent on building up his island...in particular, collecting all the artifacts and critters for the museum 

He’d work hard but not go crazy or stress about it and still take lots of time to just chill in his deep dark vibes

Maybe get out once in a while to visit Felix and learn a thing or two

Overall, we see through your front, Bin; you may have a dark vibe but you’re really just a small big softie ☺️

♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ 

✧ Hwang Hyunjin ⇢ Kkami Island ✧

Passport Title ⇢ Soothing Season

Welcome to Kkami Island, which was almost named something else aesthetically cute like Honeycomb or Applepuff

However, like Minho, Hyun simply couldn’t resist a chance to use his precious baby’s name

On Kkami, life is pretty chill: EXCEPT WHEN ITS SERIOUS 🔥

That’s right folks

This boy may have some vibing days and go at his own pace

But don’t be fooled: he plays to win

Plant those money trees

Enter those QR codes

Carve out those pathways

Where is Blathers we have a donation 😤😤

Hyunjin would be a steady-paced worker bee 🐝 

He’d likely be selective of his villagers and go for cute ones

Possibly top to secondary tier

When it came to games and get togethers, you’d likely find him chasing another member with a net or an axe, in most cases Jisung

“qUiT LEaViNG TrASh oN mY iSLaNd!!1!1!1!” 💢

“DROP THAT DIY!1!1!1!!1”

Let’s see

His whole island aesthetic would be cute and peaceful:

Plants, terrariums, soft sunlight...

There’d be so many flowers!!! Hyunjin would have a whole colorful flower field 🥰🌸

White and wooden furniture in and around the home

An adorable tea and snack time plaza too! And a library!!! 📖✨

Very cozy and sweet ♥️

Though, shoot, if he had the energy, this guy may just build himself a palace... 🏰

Regardless, just look for the boy with the staple headband and likely some face paint to boot

♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ 

✧ Han Jisung ⇢ Swag HOT Island ✧

Passport Title ⇢ Trendy Supreme Being 

(Edit: Minho convinced Felix to hack his account and changed this to Untossable Trash)

Ohhh boy

I bet y’all were waiting patiently for this one

Or maybe you jumped right to it

Either way here we go:

Han Jisung would be the king of the trash heap

And by that I mean this guy would save up all his bells and buy himself a crown 👑 where he’d sit atop a throne of garbage

BECAUSE THERE WOULD BE TRASH EVERYWHERE SIS 😩😩

This guy would be yeeting furniture and garbage all over the place

...Okay maybe that was a bit overdramatic 

Maybe not EVERYWHERE...

......

...It’d be pretty messy tho

He’d probs have traps set up too

You step off the plane and get catapulted into the ocean, if that were a thing

You’d have to navigate and hop around discarded junk for sure

He’d have clothes here, a fan there, a...urinal...on the beach???

.........o k a y ._.💧

Han Jisung wouldn’t be all that competitive when it came to gathering every fruit or collecting all the fish

He doesn’t have the patience for that

He needs to run around and be free, letting his mind wander while wrecking havoc for everyone else; which is also Minnie’s job but we’ll get to that later

For villagers, he’d have at least one squirrel or two (Marshal?! :D) but I’m not so sure it’d really matter...all that much?

I’m not sure he’d even want many villagers at all

He’d be spending most of his time crashing other member’s islands and leaving little surprises like a useless DIY they already have or a fake painting he got roped into buying bc he was too lazy to check if it was genuine =_=

Everyone got sick of it pretty quickly but no one like Minho or Hyunjin; he’s permanently banned from those two locations and Jeongin’s considering adding him to the list next

Despite there being so much junk, his house would have an almost decent vibe: lots of instruments and fun gear, along with some random clothes, a lava lamp, and...another urinal 🗿💧

Seriously, someone get this boy a closet and some coaching in organization

Chan and Changbin are working on hiring Minnie but it’s not going too well; for one he charges too much

Maybe you can talk some sense into him...

♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ 

✧ Lee Felix ⇢ YEET Island ✧

Passport Title ⇢ Festive Chum

Okay y’all

Felix

Would be

THE KING

OF ANIMAL CROSSING

THIS BOY WOULD HAVE

ALL THE FRUITS!!! 🍎🍐🍊🍒🍑🥥

ALL THE FLOWERS!!!🌷🌹🌺🌸🌼🌻

I MEAN EVERY COLOR OF EVERY COMBINATION

A COMPLETED MUSEUM 🖼 🐜 🐠

I MEAN BEFORE ART WAS ADDED, HE HAD EVERYTHING RARING TO GO

NINTENDO WAS LIKE “wtf?!”

YEAH SIS, HE’S THAT GOOD

Boy would have a five star island all sorted into perfectly measured categories

An amusement park, a picnic area, a freaking ranch probably 🐮

Some awesome neighborhood for his tier one villagers with a YMCA down the street

A fancy one at that

I mean this boy would have it all

Expect a competitive softie that really just wants to have fun but like

He’s gonna win too lmao

He’s got his Nook Miles program all maxed out

When playing with the others, he comes up with really creative solutions when faced with a crisis

That’s because this smart cookie knows the ins and outs of the game

There was one time where he fenced Jisung in like the creepy Easter bunny and left him for ded oop

That was a bad day for Jisung and a hilarious day for everyone else

He felt bad about it but he also wanted that Subway gift card 🤷🏻‍♀️ 

Each day is a new hair color for Felix

Sometimes every few days or a week

He sometimes likes to synchronize it with his current hair color but

Experimenting is also fun

Face paint too! 🌈 He chooses a warpaint print he found on Pinterest, for days when the gang gets together for a game of tag or bug catching contests

Even if he doesn’t win, Felix always makes it into the Top 3

And he has a lot of fun doing so! 😊

He’s just one heck of a gamer is all

And his whole aesthetic shines brighter than the sun T-T ☀️

♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ 

✧ Kim Seungmin ⇢ Seungmin’s Island ✧

Passport Title ⇢ Radiant Boy

Like Felix, Seungmin would be an ace at AC

He wouldn’t get everything right off the bat

But he’d put in a logical tried-and-true effort, and once he got the ropes and found his groove, my oh my

This boy would have it all

Sophistication ✨

Class ✨✨

Flair ✨✨✨

He’s got a plethora of fruit and stylish attire too

And his aesthetic is so simple but chic

He’s got this whole clean and polished vibe

Lots of artwork and creativity

He’s even got traps that look like fancy furniture

Those are mainly for Han Jisung tho

That oughta teach him to quit nosing around and taking his DIYs <_<

One time he tried stealing a few apples for Swag HOT Island

Didn’t go well sis...

He made it to just outside the pier before getting lost in the hedge maze by Cafe Seungmin

After that Seungmin closed him into a corner as punishment and wouldn’t let him out until he dropped the Apple

But Jisung was feeling pretty prideful that day so he ate it instead 🗿💧

Anyway

This guy would def make a character that looks just like him!

Would he try new hair colors and face paint? ...Maybe

It seems like a sorta-Seungmin thing to do

Seungmin would wanna be the best of the best while still staying true to himself, so you’ll likely see tier one and two villagers that he particularly fancies

Fancy you, fancy me 🥳��💃🏻🎶

He’d also be one to go around admiring the chaos from the background while occasionally becoming the chaos

Kinda like the Cheshire Cat 😅

When challenging the others to an art contest (who could buy the most expensive artifact from Redd without using the internet) he switched some of the other members paintings while they were distracted by a meteor shower

“Look, a shooting star! And another one!”

“Make a wish.”

“How do I do that?!”

“Tilt your camera towards the sky and press A.”

“I’ve got my camera app open and it’s just taking photos???”

“Not you CAMERA camera—“

“Hey! Chan hyung, Minho just stole my star!!!”

“I didn’t see your NAME on it...”

“Don’t fight, you can each have half!”

“That’s not how it works at all...”

...Anyway

It was pretty comical until Changbin had to say something, about the art that is

Then Minnie had to bounce before the angry shovels and nets caught up to him

“Hey!!! Why is my painting on Minho’s side???”

“Why is everyone attacking me???”

“Oh, Hyunjin has my painting...”

“I do not! ...Oh hey I do? Why’d you put it over here?”

“I DIDN’T!”

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

...

🛫 🏃🏻‍♀️💨

Poor Minnie just wanted to have some fun amongst the confusion 😔

But

When it gets right down to it, you better believe this boy would be an aesthetic and skillful player ✨

♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ 

✧ Yang Jeongin ⇢ Go Away Island ✧

Passport Title ⇢ Mistakingly Caught Son

Go Away Island means just what the title intends: go away :)

Initially, Jeongin was prepared for what he senior members would do

He knew there would be much anticipation to visit the 막내’s island and drive him crazy

Sometimes, he doesn’t mind it

But others he just wants to be left alone and do his own thing

When he started the game, it was one of those days

So he wanted to make the message clear 😤😤

Also, Don’t Bother Me seemed to be too long 🤷🏻‍♀️

Go Away was straight to the point ;D

Anyhoo

On Go Away, you’ll encounter lots of cute characters 💓

Innie has a very cute and true-to-himself aesthetic

He doesn’t understand much of the mechanics but he’s working on it okay?

And he’s getting better every day!

Okay, so like, sometimes he’ll allow Chan to come over and help

Or Felix or maybe Seungmin if he promises to be genuine and behave

But like

The rest of the members are semi-banned

Hyunjin gets a pass if he whines enough

Or he’ll come up with a crafty excuse to come over

“Innie, look! I got peaches on my island! Don’t you want one? They’re cute like you! 😩❣️”

...He could do without that last embarrassing remark but okay sure

He really did want those peaches for his picnic garden 😔✊🏻

In terms of hair color? We’re on a rotation like Felix

We’re trying lots of hair colors

And a few aesthetic designs, too!

Jeongin is very resourceful when it comes to QR codes, something Felix and Seungmin taught him

He uses them to set flowers and stones pathways everywhere

And an especially prominent one leading to the door 👉🏻🚪 

♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ 

↬ Which island will you be visiting? 🌴✨

♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫

ღ Stray Kids M.List | M.List ღ

[delirious-and-slightly-murderous]

Oh friend you've so many exciting WIPs but please tell me about The Color of Corn and The Nightmare Before Christmas!! 💕✨

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

Wow okay so, first The Nightmare before Christmas. This one is kinda a 2x1. As it happens with some of my WIPs when I have 2 stories from the same idea I just put them in the same file. And whichever picks my interest most wins and gets written. (If I do write it that is😅). So first is a pretty standar TNBC AU because well, Jack Skellington Andrés, that's why. Here's the snippet:

The wind howled as it collided with the cold stone of the tower.

Martín shivered despite not being cold. He felt queasy and anxious, he hoped he had calculated the dose of deadly nightshade right, he didn't want a repeat of last time.

He took his bag and balanced himself on the edge of the window, looking down at the darkness below. He wouldn't die, he couldn't but the doctor had been nice enough to make him capable of feeling pain. And it hurt, it hurt like nothing else did. 

He clutched his basket tighter and took a deep breath, thinking of a crooked smile and the moon reflecting on pearly white teeth. He needed to go out, to be free for at least a while. And seeing Andrés was worth the couple minutes of debilitating pain.

He closed his eyes and let go.

The impact with the ground was hard and painful. His mind whited out, scrambling his thoughts. All he was capable of was an incoherent tidal wave of 'hurts, hurts, HURTS, holly Satan's undies, it hurtsssss!'

Slowly, after an eternity of fire that stretched into the space of a minute, he became increasingly aware of himself. Everything burned and he felt all over the place. He opened his eyes to confirm and yes it was going to take a while. 

Thankfully one of his arms has stayed attached, which would make it all easier. He put his other arm back in place, and started the long and tedious process of retightening his seams and putting everything back in place.

By the time he was done, the pain had subsided into a dull all encompassing ache that he could push to the back of his consciousness. He checked his limbs one last time and started walking towards the town center. His body heavy and aching but his heart light and fit to burst.

He didn't notice his nose and left nipple lying half visible at the bottom of the tower.

(So yes that's part of it, it's a work in very slow progress🥴)

And then the other idea is basically a cracky Christmas fic. 

So the premise is that it's post mint (and maybe post bank too, idk), and the banda plus Martín are all living in the monastery or something. It's the day before Christmas and Martín's longing for Andrés gets so bad while watching him ignoring Martín and flirting with the women that he wishes he could have a life without Andrés and those pesky feelings of his and proceeds to get black out drunk. 

So next morning he wakes up and at first everything is normal and then bam! Andrés is nowhere to be seen, he is apparently married to SERGIO and they have KIDS! While all the rest is pretty much the same, he's still a criminal mastermind. 

So he's trying to figure out what the hell's going on and how to wake up from this nightmare when Christmas day comes around. And his husband's estranged brother shows up. His raging libertine and homosexual diva of a brother shows up. A brother Martín apparently HATES with all his heart. 

Oh and said brother, Andrés by the way if you had any doubts, not only shows up in the most mind boggling and gayest outfit, he doesn't come alone. He's accompanied by his two (2) boyfriends! A tall, tall and stoic man who goes by Marsella and a twink named Aníbal (who by the way one of his and Sergio's 'kids' can't stop flirting with). 

This is Martín's worst nightmare. He wants to wake up right now. Or possibly die, he's not picky.

Here's the snippet:

Martín was going crazy. That was the only possible explanation. He had finally drank too much wine and he was currently lying in some hospital bed in an ethylic coma. No other way around it.

Waking after getting so drunk to find himself in bed with Sergio was not at all what Martín had expected. And while he started silently panicking and trying to remember at which point of last night's drunken debauchery he had decided to pay Sergio a visit, the other man had woken up and smiled at him. 

Martín's brain had short circuited when Sergio, SERGIO, Andrés' nerdy librarian of a brother had kissed him. He had kissed him and pushed his very impressive morning wood (and who the fuck knew Sergio was so well endowed, Martín would be horny if it wasn't you know, Sergio) against him while simultaneously slipping a hand into the back of his pants and between his ass cheeks. 

Martín had become so impossibly rigid it felt like he would snap like a guitar string. When he was once again capable of movement, he had Sergio's tongue halfway down his throat and an insistent pointer finger pushing against his clamped up asshole. 

He had scrambled out of bed so hastily that he had almost cracked his skull open on the bedposts. Not saying anything before running to the bathroom like a soul out of hell. 

Hours later after the weirdest breakfast of his life where he finds out he and Sergio are apparently married and Andrés is nowhere in the picture, here he is. He went to sleep in the hopes of just actually waking up.

But apparently the universe is laughing at his misery. 

Because an undeterminded amount of time later, something wakes him and he immediately knows he's still trapped in this nightmare. He stays relaxed and doesn't open his eyes, hoping whatever it was that woke him will just go away.

"¡Papi!" 

Martín's breath dies inside his chest. Now there are a number of things wrong with what he just heard. First 'Papi' is not a word he often hears. If he does hear it, it normally comes from his own mouth in a much breathier tone while in the middle of much more interesting activities. And secondly if for whatever reason he somehow changed his preferences and it's his current partner calling him that, well it sure as hell wouldn't be in a female voice. 

His hysteric internal monologue is interrupted by another, this time distinctly male voice.

"Papi, wake up." 

That's when he notices that he knows those voices, they are familiar. He wonders what he did to deserve ending up in a hell like this. He would greatly prefer the stereotypical flames and eternal torture over this any day. He feels sick and holds back his nausea.

Finally he opens his eyes to come face to face with Tokio and Denver looking down at him.

"Hola papi, what a grumpy face, sorry for waking you. Papá said not to do it, but aren't you going to say hi to your kids?"

This time Martín doesn't hold back anything.

As he is expelling what feels like his whole stomach, he's distantly glad that he managed to be spectacularly sick all over Tokio's ugly shirt. 

(I've really got no excuse for this😅)

And finally the Color of Corn is a thingy I talked about here.

But you can have another snippet, this one goes immediately after the other one:

The sun is burning and ruthless. The air is wet and heavy, oppressing. The dense sheen of sweat covering his skin doesn't help with the stifling atmosphere, making him feel sticky and disgusting. Finally when his uncle decides to make a pause and rest, they've worked about half of the field. Martín feels ready to throw himself into a lake of freezing water, letting it consume him, dragging him down to the bottom like a dead carcass. He lost his shirt a while ago. He couldn't take the uncomfortable feeling of cloth rubbing against drenched skin anymore. He goes to sit at the back of the tractor, wincing at the touch of the scorching metal. Relaxing slightly as he eats soggy jam sandwiches and warm beer.

"You know you can go right?" His uncle asks, sitting beside him and looking at the horizon with dead and glassy eyes. "There is nothing stopping you from taking your things and fucking off. You aren't a kid anymore."

Martín stares at him thoughtfully, then he directs his glance to the faraway line where the sky meets the earth. There is nothing to see, just miles and miles of golden corn as far as the eyes can reach. Truth is Martín doesn't know how to answer. Logically he knows this, he is aware of it and has thought of leaving more than once. He's thought exactly that, taking his things and leaving. But he also knows he is never going to do it. He is utterly incapable of it. He doesn't know what he would do. His whole life all he's known is his little town in the middle of nowhere Argentina, and the golden shine of corn. And, even if he doesn't like to admit it, if he ever left he would be completely lost. As far as he can remember corn has always been present. His constant omnipresent companion. Want it or not, it's his life and always will be.

"Yes I know,'' comes his absentminded answer.

His uncle stares at him for a minute. His tired eyes seemingly looking for something.

"What happened to that friend of yours, Andrés was it?"

"What with him?" He says sharply, his tongue cutting, mimicking the exact feeling that name evoques.

"You two used to be attached at the hip and now it's been a while since I last saw him."

Martín has been trying to forget all about that. If he's being honest, he's not doing a great job of it. But Martín has never been terribly honest, not even with himself, and he's not going to start now, so he enjoys telling himself he is forgetting.

"That's because he's going back to Spain. Haven't seen him since he told me."

"Well, he's been calling you, did you know?" His uncle scratches at his beard. "You should call him back."

"I don't want to talk about this." That's not a lie, Martín really does not want to talk about Andrés, especially not with his uncle.

"You are aware both phones are connected right?"

Martín becomes rigid. "He's getting married."

"I can respect limits, but don't fool yourself like that." The older man shrugs and gets up to keep working.

Martín feels angry. His uncle doesn't understand. Couldn't possibly understand. Life is easy for a man like him. He wants to tell him to go to hell.

When finally his anger dies down, choked and overwhelmed by the infernal heat, Martín almost laughs at the recognition of his anger towards his uncle for what it truly is. The anger and spite of an immature kid when confronted with the ugly truth.

Martín knows that he's lying to himself. He just doesn't know about what.

When night falls, they go back to the farmhouse. His uncle goes straight to bed but Martín cannot fall asleep. He's bored of himself and his own mind. He goes out and lies down in one of the cornfields, feeling gravity press down on his chest. He falls asleep imagining the sea of corn rocking him gently.

Everything is dark, there isn't a single noise, not even from insects. The corn is still, not moving one bit, consumed by the darkness.

(I'm really proud of this one😊.)

So that's it. Wow this got long. Hope you liked it and thank you for asking friend.

🥰

(P.S: Did my ask reach you? I'm severely traumatised now😑)

[juju-on-that-yeet]

I wish you would write a fic where Illy settles down and he and Yancy builds a house! :D (or Illy builds a house and encounters Yancy(if he's human or not, you decide))

I ended up with a weird idea for the second option...new AU? idk. I was going for a folkloric sort of story. It’s also way longer than I meant it to be XD @lamiasluck maybe you’ll like this too? :3

~

Illinois built himself the cabin over a period of weeks, in between adventures and expeditions. It’s not very big, not very fancy, but it’s perfect for Lio. The windows and skylight let in all the sun and allow him to enjoy the rain, and it sits deep within a thick forest full of wildlife. It makes getting necessities an adventure in itself, but that only makes the place better for Lio. He’s not there much given his propensity for travel, but he loves it all the same.

Maybe it’s a bit lonely, though.

And maybe that’s why he frees the buck that he finds, trapped in a snare some hunter left. It’s a beautiful creature; huge, gnarled antlers and dark eyes that almost look human. But the most unique thing about it is its piebald pattern, with splashes of white cutting through brown so deep it’s nearly black. The buck kicks and snorts, trying to free its leg from the snare.

“Chill out, I’m trying to help you!” Lio cries, trying not to get kicked as he saws at the snare with a pocket knife. “Whoever set this would turn you into a rug or a coat the moment they saw you, you should be thanking me.” The buck only snorts at him.

When Lio finally cuts it free, it jumps away, looks back for a moment, and darts off into the woods.

The next time he sees it, it’s on the ground covered by a drop net, struggling to get up and escape.

“Again?” Lio laughs, pulling up each corner of the net to loosen it. “When you look that handsome you need to be more careful of your surroundings.” The buck regards him with an annoyed stare.

Once the net is loose, the buck manages to shake it off itself and free its antlers from the tangle. It looks at Lio for a long moment, no longer seeming annoyed. Eventually, it turns away and walks gracefully into the woods.

The third time Lio sees it, its front leg is crushed in a bear trap, and the creature bellows loudly when it sees Lio. It lays on the ground, exhausted from blood loss and pain and earlier struggles to escape.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you get yourself in trouble on purpose,” Lio says, trying to disguise his worry as he finds the springs in the trap. “I’m gonna push the springs down, and you’ll have to move. Shoot, you’re a deer, you don’t know what I’m saying...”

Yet, the buck manages to pull itself out of the trap when Lio opens it, getting free before the trap snaps back closed. Lio is shocked, but he knows it’s not over yet. The buck won’t survive with its leg so mangled, unless...

“I know you’re tired, but just...follow me, huh?”

The buck glares at Lio from the ground, shivering with exhaustion.

“You don’t have much choice, you know. You’ll die without help, and I’ve got medical supplies in my cabin. If I was gonna hurt you I would’ve done it the last two times I found you trapped.”

The buck snorts petulantly, but drags itself up, limping on its injured leg. Lio leads the way at first, expecting the creature to go its own way. But it follows, and eventually catches up enough to lean against Lio for support, matching Lio’s steps like it already knows the way.

“Why are you going through this trouble? It’s just a deer. Even if I help it it might not make it, and then I’d have wasted my supplies,” Lio thinks to himself.

“Because it’s the only living thing you’ve had any meaningful interaction with since you moved out here,” Lio immediately answers.

And it’s true. Lio’s worked alone for ages, and intentionally built his cabin in the middle of nature, away from nosy neighbors and the bustle of city life. He misses having people around, but when every partner dies on him, what else can he do but isolate himself?

So he takes the buck to his cabin and does what he can for its leg. The creature bellows again when Lio washes out and sanitizes the wound, and seems to restrain itself from kicking out as Lio wraps the wound in gauze.

“I’ll probably have to call someone to finish fixing you tomorrow,” Lio says when he’s done, “A wildlife rehab center or something.”

The buck simply looks at him with those human-like eyes. It eats the vegetables that Lio sets in front of it and stays sitting on the floor, injured leg held out and the rest delicately tucked beneath itself. It doesn’t try to run away, it doesn’t even seem scared. When Lio goes to bed that night, the buck is still sitting there serenely when he falls asleep.

When Lio wakes up, the buck is gone. Sitting in his rocking chair is a man Lio’s never seen before, dressed in a white t-shirt and black pants. Lio scrambles out of bed, preparing to defend himself, but the man only looks at him. He’s handsome, muscled in a lean, wiry sort of way, with dark slicked-back hair. Most telling of all is the arm he’s holding against himself, wrapped in bandages. That and his familiar, dark eyes. He stands from his chair and approaches Lio, who stands stock still, too astonished to react.

“Thank you,” says the man.

“Oh,” is all Lio can manage to reply.

In a moment, the man will tell Lio his name. Later, his arm will heal. Eventually, Lio will build a new addition to the cabin and a bigger bed. Before Lio knows it, he’ll have a companion alongside him on adventures, one who’s curiously lucky and manages to avoid every death trap the pair encounter.

But for now, the man kisses Lio softly, and Lio kisses him back.

[veryberrybrenda]

Just One More Bet

Pairing: Adam Du Mortain x Lucia Langford

Prompt: Guilt

Notes: I goggled the French curse words because I don’t speak French, so idk if they are 100% correct. I’m sorry in advance. This is Day 5 of Wayhaven Week 2020 by @otomefandomevents 

Respect was something that came easy to Lucia. Her work ethic in the office was what granted her the promotion to Detective after all. What people respected most about her was her ability to do what was needed. Whether it be staying late to finish paperwork or helping out Verda with his work, she was always the one who did what most people didn’t want to do. It was something she took pride in, that was the case until recently.

Adam made her question everything. He made her own body betray her. Pulse racing, cheeks flushed, voice stuttering. She was used to being the one with the cards in her hands, but the world decided her winning streak should come to an end.

But right now, she was in control. Perspiration made her bare feet slick against the blue mat. Her breathing was ragged as she kicked the punching bag. It stood its ground, barely swaying against her valley of kicks and punches, mocking her.

She had been getting better, thankfully, not a small part due to Adam. He had been sacrificing his brooding time to train her – make her stronger against those who wanted to hurt her.

Lucia hated the feeling of being helpless, having to rely on others. Being a burden doesn’t sit well with her independent nature. That was why she chose combat with Adam over research with Nate. Although she was better suited to learning about the weaknesses of supernaturals, with her unquenchable thirst for knowledge and all, knowledge itself, won’t stop a creature from snapping her arm off like it was some crispy taco.

Creak.

The sound of the door opening interrupted her assault on the punching bag as she turned to face the person responsible for the noise. Before even taking a glance, she already had a guess to who it could be.

Who else would train at 10 o'clock at night.

Standing at the doorway was a man with an approved expression, posture as stiff as always. “Your form is getting better,” Adam said, voice echoing in the large room.

“That’s progress,” Lucia panted, breathing rough from exertion.

Adam walked, his usual brisk strides, over to Lucia. His hand clasped behind his back as he eyed Lucia as though he were critiquing a piece of art. “Have your legs spread a bit wider when you punch. It will help you keep your balance better.”

A devilish grin formed on Lucia’s lips. This is too good. The man is setting himself up.

“Spread my legs. Got it,” she replied with a smirk, eyes searching for the slightest crack in his once impenetrable walls.

The flirtation only made Adam narrow his eyes, jaw clenched. “This is not some game, Detective. Your life is at stake.”

“I make fun where fun is needed. I heard it makes it easier to remember stuff,” Lucia quipped confidently as she awaited the leader’s comeback.

“Your life is no joke. It is precious to me- I mean us.” Adam’s eyes widen at his slip up, but he hastily plastered back on his stoic mask. “Besides, Agent Langford would be highly disappointed in me if something happened to you.”

His almost confession had Lucia blinking for a few seconds. Maybe there is hope after all. She just had to do what was necessary to get it out of him.

Taking a step closer, she fully gazed into his emerald eyes, searching for some sign of the real unguarded soul behind it. “Would you be disappointed if something were to happen to me?”

She saw it. The slightest twitch of his lips as he concentrated on maintaining his mask. “Yes, of course. It would be quite an annoyance to have one less team member to utilize during missions.” Although his expression was unreadable, his voice wasn’t. There was a slight pitch to it that betrayed him.

I hooked him. Now it’s time to see if the world will deal me a good hand.

This was turning into a gamble as she took another step, his eyes trailing her every move, but thankfully he wasn’t fleeing…yet. Rolling the dice yet again, she reached out to grab his hand, his fingers limp against hers. She could sense the smallest tensing of his fingers like he’s fighting himself not to hold her hand.

Lucia still gets surprised each time she feels the delicate skin of his palm. Where she expected them to be hard, rough, and calloused from his centuries of work, they were soft, smooth, and lacking any imperfection. He would make an amazing hand model.

His mouth opened then promptly closed shut with unsaid words. Adam’s pupils were blown, turning his eyes dark as the green disappeared. A battle is raging inside of those eyes. The man who wants to be set free vs. the vampire who has survived centuries of loneliness and pain. Lucia can only hope her bet on the former wins.

There is no better time than now to confront him. I just hope he doesn’t run away this time.

Her volume has died down to a mere whisper, “Adam, I want to say- “

As though he knew where she was going with this, he suddenly whips around, yanking his hand away from hers, and knocking down a wooden dummy in the process. Lucia flinches at the loud thud the dummy makes when it hit the floor. Adam just stares at the dummy menacingly as if its existence offended him.

After a few seconds of silence, Adam crouches down to pick up the dummy. His eyes still radiating hatred when he sees Lucia also couching down to help him.

“I got it!” Adam snarled, tone low and threatening.

“I want to help.” Her tone not making any room for argument, but Adam always seemed to find a way.

Adam grips the dummy. “I don’t want your help.” His voice coming out in a single breath as he heaves the dummy up.

She desperately tried to think of something to say - to prevent his walls from rising up again as he wipes the dust off the dummy. Clenching her hands, she builds her resolve that she hopes will be enough to stand against a 900-year-old vampire.

“Tu Omnia.” It comes out as more of a command than a statement, which she hopes Adam will obey.

The phrase had Adam’s body freezing up like ice, his back, taunt as it faced her.

“You are everything.” She said the phrase slowly, afraid that if she said them a little too quick, she would’ve spooked him. This time, raw emotion spills into her voice, making Adam’s knuckles tighten over the wooden dummy, fingers white.

“Where…did you hear that?” Adam questioned accusingly.

Determination filled Lucia once again. “You told me that just before the medication kicked in after the fight with the trappers.”

“I…never said such thing!” Adam shouted defensively that emphasized his continued digging of his grave.

She crossed her arms, anger starting to simmer inside of her at the man’s lies. “Just ask Nate. He was the one who translated it for me.”

“No, you’re wrong!” An animalistic snarl escapes from his lips. The wood under his fingers finally break with a snap. “Fils de pute (son of a bitch)!” Adam curses in what she assumes is French as he chucks the broken wood aimlessly to the side. He throws it with so much force that it shatters the mirror beside him, sending shards scattering everywhere.

Without a word, she bends down to pick up the shards on the ground. Adam is still turned away from her while she silently cleans up the collateral damage, something she has gotten too used to doing.

Unfortunately for her, she made the terrible mistake of forgetting that she’s bare foot and she steps on a shard, a subdued scream escaping from her lips.

“Fucking hell!” She shouts angrily, while clutching her injured foot. Crimson drips readily from the sizable shard embedded in the center of her foot.

Maybe it was the pain of her wound or the frustration of being lied to by the person she trusts the most, but she just couldn’t take it anymore. She felt tired. Tired of pretending that it didn’t hurt every time Adam would show her a piece of his heart then proceed to snatch it away, leaving her to deal with the consequences. She knew this was no way to live her life, but if she was honest with herself, she was addicted. Addicted to seeing him smile at a joke she made or when his gaze would soften around her. Living 900 years alone had its baggage, sure, but her stupid heart couldn’t help itself. She’s neck deep in her bad habit that she just can’t bring herself to quit.

Maybe I’ll win the next round, she keeps telling herself, but the cards were slipping from her hands and she was powerless to stop it.

She would never be able to quit Adam Du Mortain for as long as she breathes.

Tears were forming in her eyes as her own walls that were meant to defend her, came caving in, trapping her under the rubble.

-

Lucia’s scream pulls Adam from his state and he instantly appears behind her in a blur, arms wrapped around her waist as he gently eases her down on the mat away from the broken glass. Her hands are coated in warm blood. The aroma of it overpowered his senses, crying out to his primal side to surface, to drink it, but he suppresses it as he tucks a piece of stray hair away from her face that have come undone from her ponytail.

Her black eyes always fascinated him and the same time, annoyed him. They gave him a hard time because he could never see her pupils that mixed with her black iris. Not that he has to of course, her hammering heart always was a telltale sign of her true feelings - ones that he tries his best to ignore, for his sake. They were two black holes, reeling him in and refusing to let go until he was consumed by them. They contrasted nicely with her bright lavender hair that set her apart from everyone else, but right now, he wishes he could see those eyes.

Lucia’s bloody hands covered her dark eyes as she chokes on her sobs. The sight of her in such a state because of him made his heart constrict in guilt.

Crying didn’t come naturally to her, so it wasn’t the glass that had tears racking her body. It was something else – something that he refuses to acknowledge because once he does, he won’t be able to stop himself. The only time he had seen her cry was when she visited him when he got injured by the trappers. Her tears had weakened his walls, which made him say those words that he wished he could take back. Tu Omnia. The DMB had made his mind weak and it slipped out before he could stop himself. She hadn’t brought it up since and he thought she didn’t hear it, but he was surely mistaken.

He admired her tenacity. He would shoo her away and she would still find a way back to him like some lovesick puppy. Her fighting spirit reminded Adam of himself. He would sacrifice anything for his team – and for her. So the sight of her broken and beaten in his arms caused him to feel like a failure. He failed to protect her from danger – failed to protect her from himself.

I wish you could see how much you deserve someone better than me.

Adam laid a hand under the back of her head to hug her closer to him, hoping that it would offer her some peace in her battle to find the shadow of the man that had been lost to time. Her head instantly tucked into his chest, and so he did his best to shield her from the dangerous world that threatened to destroy who she was. He was glad that she wasn’t able to look at him because if she did, his walls would’ve instantly came crashing down.

Sliding one hand under her legs and the other under her back, he lifted her up bridal style in his strong arms. Her cries had turned into small whimpers now as she struggled to regain her composure. She felt lighter than he expected – smaller, more fragile. Her tendency to project strength, just like her mother, almost made him forget how delicate humans actually are.

As Adam was in the process of carrying her to her room, he passed by Nate, who instantly rushed towards him, expression worried as he took in Lucia bleeding and whimpering in his arms. Adam had hoped that no one would notice, but everyone must’ve heard her cries by now.

“What happened?” Nate asked, brows knitted in worry.

“Please, not now Nate.” Adam pleaded. He hoped that his old friend can understand the look in his eyes to back off.

Nate must’ve understood. “Okay. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Can you clean the broken glass in the training room?”

“Of course.” Nate replied softly. He quietly walked away, something that Adam found oddly strange, given his size.

With no more interruptions, Adam arrived at Lucia’s brightly decorated room. He was glad that the lights were off because the bright colors made his sensitive eyes hurt.

He slowly eased her down onto her bed, her hands stubbornly refused to let go. He had to peel them off of his waist, which wasn’t difficult since her lack of energy meant her resistance was weak.

He was no stranger to treating injuries. During his time as a human, he was an expert at stitching himself up, a skill he learned growing up as a knight. He grabbed a towel from the bathroom, running it under the tap. He also knew where the first aid kit was.

Under the sink cabinet and next to the shampoo bottles.

He memorized this detail when he helped Nate set up the room for her first stay at the Warehouse. With her being so clumsy, it was an extra precaution that had paid off.

He came back to Lucia, quiet and staring at the white ceiling, eyes swollen and glossy from crying. She slowly sat up when she saw him, black eyes still in a state of distress. He tried to ignore the way her sad eyes followed him as he began his work.

He gently grasped her ankle, glancing at her when it was time to pull the shard out. She understood his look and slowly nodded as she turned her gaze away from her foot. Adam firmly gripped the shard in his fingers and with one swift motion, yanked it out causing a whimper from Lucia. He quickly stopped the fresh flow of blood by cleaning it with the wet towel, her muscles tensing from the pain. After all the blood was cleaned, it was time for the most painful part. He poured the alcohol on a cotton ball and did his best to be quick and efficient. A few hisses signaled her pain. He was now wrapping her foot in gauze, careful not to make it too tight so the wound can breathe.

Once he finished, she still refused to look at him, her jaw clenched tightly.

It’s better for you to hate me. That makes it easier.

Thinking that there was nothing else he could do to ease her suffering, Adam stood up from the bed, but a small, weak hand gripped his arm, still fighting to keep him from walking away.

“Please, don’t leave.” It was mixture between a whisper and whimper that had Adam retreating back to the bed, Lucia’s hand still clutching his arm as though it was a life preserver in a stormy sea.

“I’m here, Luc.” He reassured her, eyes softening. “I won’t leave you.” He surprised himself at how naturally the words flowed from his mouth

“Can you lay next to me until I fall asleep?” She whispered, eyes pleading.

Even if Adam wanted to, no words would have come out of his mouth, so instead, he nodded and laid back on the bed, pulling the quilt over Lucia and tucking her small head in his chest. He could sense her heart slowing down as she drifted away from reality, but what he didn’t expect was his heartbeat to slow as well, synchronizing with hers. The familiar rhythm combined with her comforting scent of cherry blossoms lulled Adam to sleep, one where his nightmares wouldn’t dare touch him.    

[ladybugsfanfics]

Seven Days [1/7]

→ Pairing: prince!Loki Odinson x pirate!reader 

(eventually prince!Loki x pirate!Steve Rogers x pirate!reader)

→ WC:  3.1k

→ Warnings: Smut, some blood gore, idk, awkwardness, nightmares, (countless) sexual innuendos

→ Summary: Prince Loki has run sick of not feeling welcome at the palace and asks to join you and your life forever. You give him seven days to try the new life, seven days to realize how much he loves you. And in those seven days, he learns to know you, and himself (and the first mate) a little better… In the end, he only has one question left to answer. Will he stay?

A/N: I’m so excited for this, and it’s finally here. This was originally a part of @nastybuckybarnes​ writing challenge but that ended in september so I think that ship’s sailed (still tagging you tho, i’m sorry). anyways, i hope you like it as much as i do ^_^

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

PROLOGUE

His cloak flutters as the wind brushes past him. It nips at his exposed skin and nearly drags off the hood covering his face. He wraps the cloak tighter around him, tells his rapidly beating heart he’s making the right decision. 

The night life of Asgard is full, he notes, as he walks into the market square. Most of the booths have closed shop for the evening, yet people walk in hushed whispers and loud yells across the cobblestones. Heels clank against the rough surface, his own along with everyone else’s. The air smells of booze and saltwater, of sweat and perfume. 

He walks past an open inn. Loud noises of music, games, and drinks clattering against each other in celebration fills the open streets. He rushes past, the inn being too close for someone not to recognize him. 

Moments later, the port welcomes him. The booths and a few inns exchanged with taverns and ships lining the docks. Seawater fills his nose as he grows closer. The sounds of earlier fades into the background to leave space for the louder noise of drunk sailors and maids having their fun. A smile tugs at his lips at the sound of the ocean splashing against the stones of the dock. 

A deep breath gives him the courage to walk past the numerous amounts of people around him. He avoids eye contact, keeping his head low as he weaves through the crowd. The wind tugs at his hood again. Trembling fingers pulls it back over his head. His heart beats faster, making its presence in his rib cage known. 

Finally, he sees it. 

In the dark of the night, the ebony wood that lines the ship mixes into the dark blue of the water. The masts rise into the air, sails wrapped around them waiting to be let loose and feel the wind push against them. His eyes scan the people, seeing a few walking the gangplank onto it. 

One person catches his eyes, standing at the helm. The shadow moves along the railing, looking out at the sea. Hair blows in the wind, creating the image of a captain ready to get back on the water. 

His breath hitches at the sight, and he moves his feet faster. Boots clank against the stones, a rhythm he doesn’t mean to make. He stops by the gangplank, waiting for the acceptance to be let on. 

You smile as you catch his eyes in the dark. Not the typical teasing smirk that usually spreads across your features when you meet. Not the happy one you sport when you tell him you love him. Not the sad one you have when you let him know it’s time to leave. 

No. 

This one is special. This smile lights up in your eyes, tells him to take those few steps aboard. Your smile is one he hasn’t seen before. It covers all your emotions. The happiness of him coming. The disappointment of him coming. The excitement for the coming seven days. 

He takes the last step onto the ship. His boot connects with the ships wood, making that one sound he has been dying to hear. Your hands are clasped behind your back. You stand straight and, despite the smile on your face, the authority reeks of you. 

He likes this new image he can see. 

He doesn’t regret it one bit that he asked the question. Seven days is what he has to prove that he can survive on a pirate ship. Seven days to prove that he does love you. Seven days to prove that, even if it’s hell on Earth, it’s hell on Earth with you and he wants to spend every moment in your presence. 

Seven days to prove himself worthy.  

 DAY ONE

Compared to what Loki is used to, everything about the little food he got tastes stale. He drowns the bread down with a glass of wine, and it still leaves his tongue dry and itchy. He’d gotten an old apple at the side, too. ( “A little something on me since it’s your first day,” was what the first mate had added when the man placed the apple next to him. He’d given him a tight, fake smile and patted his back a little hard.)

The apple tastes nothing like apples are supposed to. The usual juicy and sweet bite he expects is bitter, dry and soft. His first reaction would be to spit it out and demand another, but he can’t do that now. He swallows the bite, pinching his eyes shut at the sour taste, and takes a sip of wine to drown out what lingers on his tongue. 

And then he repeats the process until the whole apple, save the core, is gone. His shoulders slump and he takes the last of the wine in one big gulp, in a desperate attempt to completely rid of the dry aftertaste of the apple and the bread that remains in his mouth. 

“Easy there, bud,” says a voice behind him, “wouldn’t want you to down everything on the first day.” 

Loki turns his head. Behind him stands a male clad in a loose shirt and a pair of pants―no shoes. The man has unusually well-groomed, brown hair and a goatee. He smiles at Loki, a lopsided smile that doesn’t really tell Loki anything other than let him know this man might not be of that much importance. 

“I’m Tony,” he says, “most people ‘round here call me Stark.” 

“I’m Loki Odinson, the―” He cuts himself off before he says his title. Not only did he get on this ship to escape that life, it also holds no authority. Maybe he should have dropped the Odinson? It would be an easy connection. 

Tony nods. “I know, everyone knows. Welcome aboard Vicious Storm, prince. Don’t expect special treatment.” He smiles, or smirks? “Or, maybe you should?” 

“Stop bothering him, Stark.” Your voice drags Loki’s attention away from the man in front of him. You stop at Loki’s side, a small smile on your lips as you divert your gaze to Tony. The man does a salute, which has you roll your eyes. The smile stays, though. “Go do something useful.” 

“Will do,” replies Tony. He smirks as he walks down to the other end of the ship. 

Loki looks to you. “What’s in that direction?” 

You widen your eyes, as if you realised something. “Oh, you don’t know where things are yet.” You shake your head. “Down that end you find our surgeon, Dr. Strange. Would recommend saying hi to him every once in a while, though the man doesn’t talk too much with anyone but Stark.”

“Why?”

“Oh, you know, he doesn’t really want to be here.” You shrug. “But, that’s not why I’m here now. You done eating?” 

Loki nods. 

“Good.” You nod. “Come with me. Gonna introduce you to some people, though I hear you’ve already met Rogers?”

Loki makes a grimace at the sound of the first mate’s name. “It is not something I would like to repeat.”

You chuckle. “I’m not even sorry when I say that that’s gonna be hard.” You take Loki’s hand in yours, dragging him up from where he sits and with you out into the sunshine that bathes the main deck. 

You walk over to the end (it’s the rear since it has the wheel, right?―Loki notes to learn more about what things are called). In a huddle stands five people, talking and laughing with each other. You cough to get their attention and they all stand up straight.

“What the hell are you doing?” you ask, a frown coating your face as your gaze drags over the five people saluting you. 

The first mate relaxes, shooting you a smile (and winks at Loki). “You said to have manners. Ain’t this manners?” 

“This,” ―you gesture at the other four who all relax back into normal postures― “is not what I talked about.”

Rogers smiles. “Sorry, I tried my best.”

You roll your eyes, but an amused smile plays on your lips. Loki finds he rather likes the look in your eyes, only he wishes it wasn’t directed at the first mate―he tries to drown the sting in his heart at your playfulness with him, but he can’t deny the jealousy that comes with you being close to someone as good looking as Rogers. 

“Anyways,” says one of the other men, “why’d you ask us to meet you here?” The male is bald, with a dark complexion Loki hasn’t seen with many other’s of the crew. He noticed a few, but for the most part, there are crew with the same pale, white skin as he himself has.

“Yeah, I want to introduce you.” You nudge Loki a little closer to you and the group, hand still holding onto his. He’s grateful to rely on some of your strength. Being in a different environment than he’s used to makes for interesting jabs at his pride and confidence, jabs he hadn’t thought would come when he’d asked to join you. 

“Loki, this is Wilson. He’s our pilot.” Loki hides his surprise as the man holds out a hand for him to shake―the first one to do so in the little time he’d been aboard the ship. He takes the man’s hand, giving a curt nod to the smile the male sends him. “Bet you’ll get along, at least a little.”

The next person is a male with longer, brown hair that flows around his head and lands past his shoulders. Loki notes that one of his arms is metal, but he decides not to comment and makes a mental note to ask you later. “Barnes.” He doesn’t hold out his hand, but gives a nod which Loki returns. 

“Welcome aboard Vicious Storm, my prince.” The red-headed woman makes a mock-curtsy, looking up at him through her lashes with a bright smirk. The men around her snicker. Loki makes no reaction. 

You roll your eyes. “Mature, Nat, mature.” 

Nat stands up. She gives Loki a more genuine smile, which he returns with a tight-lipped one (that gives away his ‘poker’ face). “Call me anything but Romanoff and I’ll make sure you regret it.” 

Based on her tone, Loki believes her. “Noted.”

“Clint,” says the male next to Romanoff and holds out a hand for Loki to shake. The man, though with a slightly lighter brown shade, has the same styled hair as Tony. Clint also has a goatee, though less prominent. Loki takes the man’s hand and shakes it. He returns the grin Clint gives him, though a little hesitantly. “We’ll be best friends, promise.”

Loki glances at you, and you roll your eyes with a small smile. Of the four he’s been properly introduced to, he has to admit he likes Clint the best. 

And then he turns to the first mate, who eagerly holds out his hand for Loki to shake. “Steve Rogers,” he says, a wicked grin coating his (stupidly handsome) face―jawline covered with a full beard that suits him very well, and longer, blonde hair slicked back (he looks too well-groomed for a pirate). 

Loki, who was raised with manners, takes Rogers’s hand and shakes it. The pressure is slightly harder than Wilson’s and Clint’s, but surprisingly lighter than Loki expected. Rogers leans in, the wicked grin still on his lips. His breath is hot on Loki’s ear. “Please, call me Steve,” he whispers and pulls back. 

You and the four other people raise your brows at the first mate’s behaviour. Loki tries to steady his beating heart (to be honest, Steve gives him a ...weird and almost frightening vibe). 

“Okay,” you say, “that was… I don’t know what that was but I ain’t gon’ ask either an’ now we’re gon’ go before more happens.” You tug on Loki’s hand―the one that has been holding onto his this whole time it’s weird you haven’t pulled away by how clammy it has gotten―and Loki swallows the lump in his throat as he pulls his gaze away from Steve. 

As the two of you walk, Loki takes a glance back at the group. Steve looks after you and Loki, and the other four whisper with each other whilst looking at Steve―had that behaviour been that odd? Loki vows not to be alone with the first mate.

Ever. 

 ---

He’d noticed the smell when he’d first stepped on board the ship. The mixed stench of human sweat and rotting fish, an odor that gets a little better at the main deck where the breeze filled with the smell of sea can take away some of the vile one that hurts his nose. 

It’s first now, bored to death as he leans against the railing trying to tame his queasy stomach that he really notices it. Loki can’t say it helps very much to how he’s feeling. 

He swallows the little that makes its way up his throat, though quickly regrets it as it only heightens the feeling and he leans over to rid himself off it. His throat hurts as he uses his sleeve to wipe away the excess. 

“We’ve all been there, buddy.” Clint pats his back and nods. “Heck, most o’ us are still there. Does get a lil’ better, but everyone’s emptyin’ their guts every now and then.”

Loki swallows―something he quickly regrets―and rubs his temples. “I have to admit, when I asked I thought the worst part would be the blood and gore, not… sea sickness.”

Clint nods. “Trust me, thought so, too.” He gives Loki a tiny smile. “But instead o’ this, what’cha say to a round? Got some mates up there, bettin’ some good money. And I’ll give you somethin’ to wash that taste down with.”

“A round of what?” 

A mischievous glint lights up in Clint’s eyes. “A round o’ whatever.” He winks. “Won’t give up an opportunity to beat Rogers, now would you?”

Loki nods. “He’s playing?” 

Clint nods. 

“Well, lead the way.”

They make their way to the helm (Loki asked you what the back with the wheel is called, the answer; the helm). Where he got introduced to some of the crew earlier in the day, is now a group―bigger than the five he was introduced to―sitting in a ring. In the middle he sees a pair of dice. 

“Ey, look who decided to join.” The first mate smirks in Loki’s direction and makes room for him to sit down next to him. “Time to place our bets, gentlemen.” Steve winks at Loki and looks onto the crowd around him as Loki sits down in the space made for him.

Everyone holler out a number between five and nine. Loki keeps his mouth shut, not sure what they’re playing. Steve picks up the dice and rolls them, creating a total of seven. A few men groan and move out of the circle to stand and watch. 

The remaining men holler out another set of numbers. Steve rolls the dice again. Five. Two of the men move out of the circle. There are five men left, each holler out a number. Steve rolls; eight. Two men remain in the circle. They give each other a wicked grin, and yell out a new number. 

Steve rolls the dice. As they spin around on the deck, the silence is deafening. The wind brushes past Loki, nipping at his cheeks. It makes his hair flap around him, annoyingly slap his face. He tucks it away, eyes still glued to the dice that come still on the ebony wood of the deck. 

Nine.

Both men groan and glare at Steve, who shrugs with a smirk. “Hand it over, boys.” His voice is cocky, too arrogant for someone surrounded by a gang of annoyed pirates. But, Steve himself is a pirate. And the men pay up, putting down different sets of things in front of Steve. 

The first mate picks some of the things, putting them in his pockets and then pushes the rest of the heap into the center. “Play me for it?” 

Loki is well aware of the little glance the male gives his way, as if the question is directly meant for him. He nods as the men come back to form a new circle. Everyone hollers out a number. 

Steve rolls the dice. Eight. Loki keeps his place, though he suppresses the smirk he wants―so he doesn’t have that good a poker face, this is rather a game of luck. 

They holler out a new number. Steve rolls. The dice spins on the deck. Stop. Six. Loki can feel the tug of his lips as he lets his shoulders fall down. 

They six men seated in the circle holler out a new number. Steve throws the dice; eight. Loki can feel the glares stare daggers in his back; already heated by the scorching sun the glares only add to the feeling of finally being somewhere else. 

They’re three men left now. All three yell different numbers. Steve rolls the dice. One lands quickly at a four. The other spins, and spins, and spins. It loses momentum and Loki can see the number it’s going to land on; one. Subtly, he flicks his wrist, giving the little extra it needs to fall on the two he needs. 

All eyes land on him as he lets the smirk color his face. Steve shakes his head, though if Loki doesn’t see hallucinations he believes he saw the hint of an amused smile before the man went back to his rather teasing look. 

“Who won?” 

Loki perks up at the sound of your voice. 

“Your toy,” replies Steve, though nothing layers his voice as Loki would have thought. 

As he sorts through the pile of garbage they played about, Loki can feel you roll your eyes behind him. He smiles and, finding something of value, he leaves the heap and stands up. He turns to you raising a brow in his direction. 

“Having fun?” you ask.

Loki smiles. “I will be in a moment.” A little ‘ooooh’ goes through the crowd of men as he takes your hand and tugs you with him. Newfound energy can do a lot. 

Also, he would rather have you in his arms where he can trade the rotting stench he’d forgotten a little with your smell. He wishes to trade the sound of grown men groaning at losing a game designed for them to lose, to the sound of your voice hoarsely and breathlessly whispering his name. 

So far, he’d made the right decision. 

[xenoredux]

The Legend of Silver Fang - Episode 5: The Beasts

If you haven’t read episode 4 yet, you can do so here.

As mentioned before, the major story beats and overarching plot are the same. This is written under the supposition that, in fantasy land, this is a mini series with episodes that run about 2 hours in length each.

Some things to be aware of going in:

This story is violent as shit!!! CONTENT WARNING FOR: Animal injuries, animal death, sickness via poisoning, eye trauma, weaponry, cannibalism, fire damage to property and animals, wacky cult antics, child abuse and endangerment, suicide, starvation, dogfighting, bullying, and idk probably something else terrible. Seriously don’t read if you don’t like this kind fuckery

I was trying to achieve a decent adaptation that combines the strongest elements of the anime and manga. It will not be precisely like either and will occasionally totally deviate from both

This isn’t meant to be “better” then the canon. It’s just the way I’d go about rewriting the Akakabuto arc if I had that level of ungodly power lol

Character designs made to represent several mentioned characters can be found here, here, here, here, and here. Others will be left up to the reader’s interpretation. A link to the next episode will also be provided at the end. If a link isn’t available, the next episode just hasn’t been posted yet!

I KEEP POSTING THESE SO LATE IN THE DAY AAAAAHHH

The Igas and Gin are frozen where they float. Kurojaki's teeth clack against the scythe's handle as he sadistically taunts them. This day marks the end of the Iga clan he says (though it sounds more like "Ish ey marsh he and ufh eh Uhguh clun.") Akame barks back someone along the lines of "OH YEAH?" before turning to the others.

The albino levels with them: four against, what, 40? Not good odds. But maybe if there was a diversion some of them could get away. Akame passes his share of herbs to Jinnai and says that no matter what happens the Ohu soldiers must receive these herbs. Even if it costs the remaining Igas their lives and their legacy, no innocents will die just because some mottled dickhead bamboozled them all.

With a final command for them to get moving, Akame vertical leaps outta the lake and busts Koga heads the minute he lands. The other three good guys exit stage right while the gettin's still good. Gin looks back, almost certain someone's gonna come after them, but the Kogas are all too concerned with chasing Akame in circles to care about anything else.

Shinobi slaying is easier said then done, turns out. Akame didn't become Chief Ninja Daddy without some skills to back the title up. He is eventually pinned down by several heftier dogs, but it takes a few minutes of him humiliating his opponents first. As payback one of the cannibals chomps down hard on Akame's hind leg and jerks it back at a nasty angle. Akame lets out a manly scream of pain.

Jinnai, Kirikaze, and that silver guy are still running back home unimpeded when they hear Akame's hollering. Kirikaze is especially affected by his old man's tortured yowls and he begins crying big fat tears of sorrow.

So overwhelmed is he by his progenitor's wails that he tries to double back, but Jinnai tackles him and tries to smack some sense into him. Kirikaze's gotta nut up for Akame's sake. This scolding almost works, but another scream from the chief threatens to break the rest of Kirikaze's resolve.

They have reason to be concerned. Kurojaki's started wiping the forest floor with Akame's pale ass, bruising the Kishu heavily and giving him a nice big slash across the throat. The cut on his neck isn't enough to kill Akame, but combined with his other injuries it's enough to sap his remaining strength from him. As Akame tries to gather his bearings and defend himself the scythe comes down across his neck a second time.

Another scream of agony reaches the trio. Jinnai and Kirikaze are still fighting over whether to save the army of strangers or their dad when Gin decides he can't stand moral dilemas involving family. He spits out his share of herbs and shoves them towards Kirikaze.

Gin tells the bros that he's willing to double back and help Akame so long as they can pull themselves together long enough to cure the Ohu dogs. As the Akita moves towards the marsh, Jinnai asks him if he's so insolent as to disobey the chief's orders.

"Akame isn't my chief," Gin states matter of factly, "so I can do whatever I want." And so he turns and leaves the two Kishus to collect their herbs and continue their journey. Before they go the two decide to come back and help the moment they deliver the plants.

Akame coughs up blood and falls limply to the ground. He's hurting something fierce. He tries to go all Mind Over Matter with his body, but he's having too much trouble standing up to fight anymore. Kurojaki cackles triumphantly. Maya is grinning in a nasty way while their son yips excitedly, too young to understand that Daddy's committing an atrocity.

Emboldened by the support, Kurojaki decides it's time to deliver the killing blow. He leaps towards the incapacitated albino all ready to shreddy, too busy to notice the other Kogas trying to stop a silver striped blur from slamming into him. Gin lunges through the air, grabs Kurojaki by the hind leg, and does an anti-gravity version of the worm that sends both of them flying to the ground. Gin lands elegantly on all fours, but Kurojaki is slammed face first into the dirt. The moment he makes contact with Mother Earth, the cannibal lets out an unholy screech.

Everyone is taken aback - even Akame is frightened by the noise - as Kurojaki continues vicerally screaming for a moment more. It's at this moment that Gin realizes he hadn't seen where the scythe's blade had landed. Kurojaki lifts his trembling head and turns to face Gin.

The blade has been buried deep into the black devil's right eye. Icky red squidge oozes from the wound and down his cheek as he heaves a shallow, rattled breath.

"You little motherfucker," he pants, his remaining eye bulging and rolling around wildly in his head.

The other Kogas are now a terrifying mix of horrified and pissed the fuck off, and Kurojaki's ready to take advantage of that. As Gin gapes in horror at the live demonstration of why running with sharp things is a bad idea Kurojaki commands his crew to tear the invaders limb from limb. He especially wants that little stripey shit's head on a pike.

Obedient as ever, Kurojaki's mohawked mooks spring into action. Gin leaps to Akame's side to protect him. A couple of especially speedy Kogas advance on them before the others, but Gin's entire bloodstream is full of adrenaline right now and he manages to pick them off easily.

Before the rest of the hoard can descend upon them, Gin snags Akame up by the scruff and leaps into the trees with him. The Kogas watch as the two make their getaway. This only serves to frustrate Kurojaki. As Maya is fussing over his sliced up face he screams for the cult to follow the two.

Unaware of what's gone down, Jinnai and Kirikaze continue their jog home. They've been making good time but are stopped suddenly when another dog they've yet to meet jumps out of the bushes before them. He's just as surprised to see them as they are to see him, and they all trip over each other.

The dog, a tempermental German Shepherd, barks that the two dipshits need to watch where they're going next time. The Kishus apologize before scampering off with their herbs.

To the surprise of no one this rude dog is John. The upstart has finally left the village to pursue more heroic avenues. This is nice, but he realizes it's not quite going according to plan when he notices several dogs of intederminate breed running up to him.

These three dogs have the decency to stop and ask if John's seen a couple of white guys with plants in their gobs passing by. John pulls an "I know something that you don't know" face and tells them to fuck off because he's not going to enable them to chase down a couple of geeks with weeds.

This pisses the mohawked mutts off, as does the fact that John stinks of human civilization. They go to give him a taste of Whoopass Stew (1992) before John recites the navy seal copypasta from memory and teaches them some humility via a few well aimed bites and mean names regarding their haircuts. As soon as they realize he's a capable fighter the trio runs off with their tails tucked both metaphorically and literally between their legs.

This is getting bizzare. John's just arrived in this forest and already he's seen two groups of oddballs he can't begin to understand.

Back at the Iga House Gin has brought Akame home. He sets the ninja chief down gently as the other Kishus come to greet them. The Ohu soldiers, most of who are feeling much better now, are also glad to see Gin is still kicking.

Gin's happy to see them as well. He runs over to where they're gathered to more properly say hello. Most dogs are back on their feet, but he can't see the tallest one of them all. He asks where Ben is before realizing by the look on everyone's faces that this isn't a question they want to answer.

The crowd parts to reveal Jinnai has finally gotten Ben to eat his share of antidote. Ben's a hotass mess, though; his eyes are bloodshot, his mouth is foamy with excess saliva, and his muscles are all twitching involuntarily. He looks miserable as he stares aimlessly into the woods.

Akatora comes over to him and offers a friendly nudge and a whispered, "Hey, you okay?" Ben simply responds by snapping at him. Akatora tumbles backwards, stunned that his old friend and mentor would react to him so aggresively.

Akame pads over to Akatora and tells him not to take Ben's bizarre behavior to heart. Ben's had bad shit in his blood longer then everyone else. It's gonna take him a second to come out of this haze.

Luckily the dane seems to be regaining his composure, for he has managed to stand up and steady his limbs. The soldiers seem mostly relieved at the sight, but Gin notices Akame is still staring at Ben in concern. Is there something he's not telling them?

While alla this was going down, Hyena had wandered off by himself and ended up being taken prisoner by the Kogas. Worse still, he's been trafficking the corpses of dead Igas into their slapshod fridge (i.e. a dank, chilly cave).

As he drags the icky, ewwy canine cadavers along, his captures taunt and jeer at him for being both a wuss and their munchie packmule. One particularly nasty looking sucker with no tail tells him to move his ass before they decide to add him to the every-growing pile of carcasses. Hyena just whines miserably and goes back into the body storage. He's just flopped down another lifeless Kishu when he hears a sudden commotion outside. He cowers far back in the cave.

"MORE of these assholes?" says a newcomer. "Jesus, these woods are full of lunatics."

The Kogas have turned to look at their visitor. Three of them point him out as being a direct threat. They'd run into this dickhead in the woods, and though he stinks of men he's more powerful then any housepet they've chomped on before. While the cannibals encircle John, Hyena pokes his head out of the cave just long enough to recognize the GSD as one of the dogs he'd seen at Ohu. What on Earth is HE doing here?

Back at the Iga house the Kishus have organized to face off with the Kogas. Enough is enough. They can't allow any more innocents to get swept up in this stupid war.

Ben is feeling more lucid now and he insists that the Ohu dogs aid the raid against the Kogas. They outnumber the mohawked mongrels together and lbr this has become personal for the troops. Akame worriedly tries to convince Ben not to subject himself or his bros to this, but the dane refuses to leave it alone. Akame reluctantly agrees to let them help and begins leading the way back to the marsh.

Ben is just behind the shinobi, but he's doing a shit job at keeping with the pack. Despite having scolded Gin for running off course, Ben keeps drifting farther and farther off trail. In fact, he's essentially in the treeline now, and a concerned Gin and Cross follow to ask him where he's going.

Ben freezes up. He takes a deep sniff and realizes he's not with the others. Everyone stops running, concerned. Akame attempts to be stoic, but his brow twitches intently.

Ben tells everyone it's nbd bruh, he's just gotta take a piss, it's fine it's fine it's cool it's fine. Akame grunts and tells Kirikaze to continue leading the pack while he checks up on the big guy. Kirikaze nods and directs the others to follow him.

The only stragglers are Gin and Cross. They're both too concerned about Ben to follow orders. The two of them sneak closer to where Akame and Ben are huddled and strain to listen to what they're saying.

Akame looks sadly at Ben as the dane stares blankly ahead.

"Ben," Akame says in a low voice, "look at me."

Ben pauses for a second as if focusing hard, then turns his head. He's not looking at Akame. He's not even close to meeting eyes with him.

"Akame?" he says with a tinge of fear in his voice. "What's happening to me? I can barely see."

Akame sighs and apologizes to Ben for all this. It's a side effect of the poisoning. Ben was doped up on the bad shit long enough that there was potential for it to do some damage to his senses. The eyes and ears are most suseptible to the poison's effects, and it seems like Ben's eyes are feeling the hurt.

Ben's shoulders slump as he softly shakes his head. He figured his sudden astigmatism and fading peripheral vision had been brought on by Akame's bioweapon. He just hadn't wanted to admit it.

Gin is shaken to hear this, but he's not as upset as Cross. The Saluki is trying and failing to contain her tears.

"He'll never see--" she says before running off, unable to stand it anymore. Gin only lets her go when he hears the conversation continue.

Ben asks if he'll become totally blind. Akame says yes. Ben asks if he'll be blind forever. Akame says yes again. Ben asks if he'll be able to keep up his duties as commander. Akame doesn't respond directly but instead tries to soothe the dane by saying that he owes Ben a great debt and will pay it forward by being his eyes.

Ben takes a moment to think before thanking the Kishu, but he has a request. Cross is ready to take his place as commander when he becomes totally incapacitated, but as she was his successor she'll need a right hand dog of her own. Akame figures that all Ben's soldiers are so jacked that any of them would do nicely, but Ben has his eyes (no pun intended) set on one guy in particular.

That kid Gin... he's a good fighter, sure, but he's also young and eager and empathetic. He's got a good head on his shoulders, boundless potential, and clearly has had some training before. Within a few months he'll be fully grown, and by then he'll make a great lieutenant. Gin only now realizes he's been holding his breath.

Meanwhile, John has made quick work of the lingering Kogas, adding those who didn't flee to the abnormally high count of dog bodies in the area. When he's sure it's safe to come out of hiding, Hyena slinks out of the cave to meet John.

John recognizes the little twerp from Ohu mountain, but he's still in Fight or Fight mode so instead of saying hi he just gears up to cream him. Hyena whimpers and begs for mercy, insisting that the Kogas took him as a POW and that he's still loyal to the Ohu army. John rolls his eyes and takes Hyena's word for it before turning to leave.

Hyena dares not be alone in this above-ground graveyard, so he follows John. The shepherd either doesn't realize or doesn't care that Hyena's his new little tagalong. They wander for a bit, Hyena taking every chance he can to suck up to John, before John tells him to shut the fuck up and listen.

The dogs fall quiet. The sound is faint, but they can distinctly hear a low mumbling, or, more accurately, the muffled sound of a crowd speaking amongst themselves. Someone literally barks a command and all the voices fall silent. John nudges Hyena to follow his lead and the two sneak closer to find out what's going on.

As they advance on the group they realize that it's more of the Kogas. The cannibals are having a meeting.

Kurojaki's eye socket has stopped bleeding and instead has collapsed in on itself, the tattered lids laying concave in his skull. He's sitting atop a boulder looking down at his cult as he gently strokes the babyhawk atop his infant heir's head.

As his son mouths absentmindedly at his father's paws, Kurojaki informs his people that now is the time to strike. They've killed several of the remaining Igas and they still have enough people to take on both the ninjas and any allies they bring with them. It's time to take the Iga homestead as their own and secure a glorious future for their breed. And as an added bonus, he thinks to himself, we can fuck up that guy who took my eye.

Hyena and John take a moment to spy on the hoard from afar. Hyena points out the big guy on the rock as Kurojaki, and it's clear as day that he's the leader of this band of hoodlums. John nods and, having learned nothing from his previous ass whooping at the hands of a pack leader, puffs out his chest and readies himself to attack.

John says he's gonna tear the whole lot to smitherines and singlehandedly lower the cannibal population in the area to 0%. Hyena tries to convince him that attacking a warlord in front of his entire legion of followers is a bad idea, but John's ego demands stroking. He's already taken off in a sprint.

The shepherd tears through several of the Kogas before they even realize what's happening. He rips the throat out of one particularly unfortunate bystander who proceeds to tumble to the ground. The miserable cur seizes wildly as he dies.

Everyone is caught so off guard by this development that they don't stop John when he walks up to the bottom of Kurojaki's perch and tells the merle cyclops that his reign of terror is over. Kurojaki has literally no idea what the fuck is going on, but he rolls with the punches and tells John that he'll be crushed like a bug before the group departs on their actual mission. Before any crushing can commence, a rumbling can be heard coming closer.

It's (predictably) the Iga and Ohu dogs. The Kogas have an Oh Shit moment before scrambling into battle position. They're a little wary of the fight given there's an absolute shittonne of dogs running towards them, but Kurojaki tells them not to be a buncha bedwetting babies and fight anyway. He passes his literal bedwetter baby son off to the boy's mother so he can join the brawl. John just shrugs and goes to attack the guy nearest to him.

As army meets army, the blood begins to flow. Despite how much larger the Ohu pack is, it's really anyone's game, for the cannibals' desperation to keep their cause alive pushes them forward. Still, the Ohu dogs are holding their own. Even Ben is managing to fight off his enemies. Unfortunately for Smith, the dane's poor vision throws a spanner in the works, and the Spaniel gets a couple of chomps on the ass. Don't worry about it, Ben, he's young. He'll heal.

As the battle grows more and more out of control, Kurojaki slinks past his men and into the woods in the hopes of baiting one particular target into following him. To his delight, that target falls into his trap; Gin notices him leaving and gives chase.

Gin's too caught up in the task at hand to notice Kurojaki's leading him on purpose, but lucky for him Kurojaki is too caught up in his own plan to notice he himself is being ambushed. Akame saw Gin following the cultist, and he's bolted out of the woods to save Gin's silver hide.

Akame smacks Kurojaki face first into the dirt and is about to give him an atomic noogie when Gin's all like WAIT. Gin lets the cat out of the bag and tells Akame he knows that Ben wants to scootch Gin up the platoon's pecking order. Gin wants to use this chance to wipe the forest floor with Kurojaki to prove that Ben's right to think that.

Akame is a touch offended that Gin's a filthy eavesdropper, but he understands his motivation. He just sorta shrugs and lets Gin face off with the warlord. Gin puts up his doggy dukes and gets the ball rolling with some fighting words.

Meanwhile, everyone else is fighting a Koga of their own and they're doing a good job of it. Even Hyena is making an honest, if hopeless, attempt at mauling one of the smaller guys. He's failing miserably when he's aided by Smith, who follows up his generously saving Hyena's life by mocking him for being a wussypants and asking him why he hasn't fucked off yet.

Hyena wants Smith and the others to appeal the No Hyenas Allowed rule of their club because he's decided to be a good guy now. Smith isn't sure if he believes him, but whatever, the traitor can serve as a canine shield if nothing else. The two continue snapping at their enemies.

As the fight rages on, John makes his presence known to the platoon by leaping beside a bloodied Ben. John manages to choke out a sincere word of praise for the other dogs' fighting abilities before more graciously humbling himself to Ben by proclaiming he's ready to fall in line with his commander's orders. Ben's newly-beshitted eyes are having a hard time recognizing John, but he'd know that stuck-up, twatty voice anywhere. He instantly welcomes the shepherd back into the fold.

Gin and Kurojaki are standing off in earnest now, but they're still not really getting anywhere. They're surprisingly well matched, Gin always managing to strike and Kurojaki always managing to either dodge or deflect. They've only faced off for a few minutes more when the rumble of a bazillion dog feet advances towards them.

The Ohu and Iga dogs have managed to subdue the Kogas and now they're bumbling towards the fighters. To make matters more dramatic, a storm has been brewing. As if called in as reinforcements a bolt of lightening strikes a nearby tree and catches it on fire. With a terrified, "Shit!" Kurojaki turns tail and runs, a frustrated Gin following behind.

But before Kurojaki can run very far, someone calls down to him from above. He breaks stride and looks up. It's Wilson, finally appearing onscreen again for the first time in a while. His long, white muzzle is rippled in a snarl, and he calls Kurojaki a gutless coward for abandoning his men. And it's not just his men he's abandoned. Has he really forgotten about...

...his own son? Wilson suddenly lifts a small, mottled bundle of fur into view. It's Kurojaki's infant child, and he's crying with fright. Though Kurojaki cannot see it, Maya's body is lying beside Wilson as well, her neck broken and twisted at an ugly angle.

Gin freezes and looks on in horror, as do the other soldiers who come to a stop beside him. Everyone wants to stop this but they're too stunned to speak. The sky rumbles as if angry, lightening flashing and illuminating Wilson's spiteful white face.

"T-tesshin!" Kurojaki cries in recognition. "My boy! What are you doing with my boy?!"

"Can a fucking demon like you truly feel love for a child?" Wilson wonders aloud. "You certainly didn't show any mercy towards mine. You've never understood the horror of what you did, but now you will. I'll make you see. I'll make you pay."

Wilson begins to shake Tesshin back and forth by his tiny grey scruff. A sickening chorus of wails and squeals comes from the baby. The other soldiers are appaled by Wilson's vengeance, as is a now very desperate Kurojaki. The Koga master begins climbing uphill after Wilson, his paws splayed far out in front of him as if trying to grasp for his son.

"Stop!" Kurojaki wails desperately. "Please, please stop!"

For the first (and last) time ever both the Ohu and Iga soldiers are in agreement with Kurojaki. They also call out for Wilson to put the child down. Gin feels helpless to stop this injustice. It's cut him to the quick more then any adult dog's endangerment has yet to. Ben tries to reason with Wilson to stop, but he's distracted by Cross. She's quaking with some overpowering emotion that's not exactly anger and not exactly fear.

Kurojaki nears the hilltop as Wilson's swinging quickens and he jostles Tesshin around like a ragdoll. The Koga leaps with an enraged roar at the Collie when suddenly the two of them are joined by Cross. Before any of them can acknowledge her, Kurojaki collides with Wilson without thinking to stop and sends both the collie and his son tumbling off the hill's edge.

Kuroj screams in horror as he sees both Wilson and the baby descend into the dark gorge below, and the army dogs join his yelling as Cross mounts the hill and descends down into the dark behind them.

The wind blows mournfully as Kurojaki stands mouth agape on the hill, staring into the black pit with his remaining eye. So busy was he with his child that he has only now noticed his wife's bloody corpse sprawled beside him. His eye fills with tears.

But the tears evaporate quickly as he's taken by an overpowering fury. He turns to the stunned soliders and swears at them, damns each and every one of them for bringing his wife and child into this. He will singlehandedly kill them all.

In a (half) blind rage, Kurojaki flings himself headlong into the gaping crowd. First he tears into the massive Moss. Then he slashes Akatora up the shoulder, gives John a concussion, brings Ben to his knees, bam, bam, bam.

So powerful is his rage that one would think he's about to make good on his promise of Ohu decimation, and for the first time the soldiers and their newfound allies start backing away from their foe. All except Gin, ofc, whose protagonist moral code is preventing him from faltering.

Kurojaki's all too willing to beat Gin's ass for causing just about every bad thing in his life lately, so he runs at Gin with reckless abandon. Both he and the Akita leap at each other. A shooting star's comet trail follows Gin's arch in the sky.

The symbolism of it is enough to trigger a convenient, empowering flashback in Gin's mind of his maybe-probably-mostly-confirmed-not-dead father defending baby Gin from Akakabuto. He remembers Riki's signature bear-hunting move, a hard bite to the top of the animal's muzzle. Thinking fast, Gin performs this move on the murderous merle mongrel flying towards him.

This catches Kurojaki by surprise just long enough for Gin to rabbit kick the shinobi bastard into the dirt, bloodying both it and his foe's face in the process. Gin lands back on Earth with an equally small amount of grace by spraining every ankle he's got upon landing. He plops down onto his stomach and quivers as his muscles relax, and Kurojaki has been knocked down hard enough that he's not yet making an effort to get up.

The other dogs run forward, panting congrats to Gin for being so awesome and stuff before they move to descend on their enemy.

John makes himself known to Gin a second later when he's like whoa hold up everyone lmao chill, this is Gin's battle and he should be allowed to finish the dude off himself. Gin's just now realized John's returned, but before he can say HUH WHAT John tells him to handle business before he's offered an explanation. Already feeling a bit overwhelmed by the gravity of the situation, Gin turns at a familiar female voice telling everyone to hold their horses.

It's Cross! She's holding a fussy but living Tesshin in her jaws. Beside her is a battered, humiliated looking Wilson. The Collie sways unsurely, totally unwilling to hold anyone's gaze.

While Wilson wallows in his post-attempted infanticide guilt, Cross sets the child down. Kurojaki is a total sack of shit, she says, but he's still this little guy's dad and only remaining parent. This decision can't be made lightly because it will always come back around to affect the kid.

Gin takes this as a chance to stall on his decision and runs over to Cross, overjoyed to see she's still alive. Cross, looking even more tired then you'd expect, gives him a coy wink. She's told him before she has a soft spot for kids, yeah? After all, she's always believed they have the potential to be better then their parents. As she says this she allows Tesshin to toddle up to his daddy and lick his bloody nose.

But it's still ultimately up to Gin whether or not Kurojaki lives or dies. The decision weighs heavily on the kid. Yeah, Kuro is a violent murderer, a cult leader, an advocate of genocide, and an all around assclown, but watching Tesshin lick his deadly dad's face with unconditional affection awakens something in Gin.

He can't shake the memories of his own puppyhood. He was taken too early from his mother and only ever got to be held by his father once before he was forever stripped of the chance to have a peaceful childhood. He's steadfast in his decision to be with these soldiers, but can he truly say he's comfortable subjecting another child to the loss of their innocence?

"Kurojaki," Gin starts. The cannibal king meets Gin's gaze with his single eye. "Get out of here. Take your people with you. Don't ever come back."

Kurojaki understands this is the only chance he's got to leave, so he picks his sorry ass up and leaps with a noticable decrease in elegance into the trees. All he leaves behind him is a puddle of nose blood... and his infant son. Tesshin simply sits beside his papa's nose goo and yips pitifully, too small to understand he's been ditched but having enough cognition to know neither mommy or daddy are with him and he's frightened.

"Miserable piece of shit didn't want the kid as bad as we though," Kurotora grumbles.

The others in the crowd can't help but agree. Some of them believe it's time to kill Kurojaki after all, but Gin tells them to lay off. This whole debacle has been a real fuck of a shit and more unnecessary casualties are only going to make things worse. So long as Kurojaki actually fucks off once and for all, that's all that needs to happen.

A new discussion begins about what's to be done with the baby when the Kai Bros finally take notice of Hyena. Akame thoughtfully dashes off elsewhere as the tiger-striped trio start telling the grey-haired square to get the hell outta here. John breaks up the bloodthirsty posse by explaining that Hyena's lowkey alright actually. John's elaboration on his experience in these woods and his opinion about the Weimaraner doesn't mean much to the Kais given they've never met him before, but Gin helpfully explains that John's an old friend of his who's come to join their ranks.

He gives John a warm, appreciative smile. For a moment he looks very much like the boss smiling proudly at all his troops. John's brow is furrowed as per ush, but he can't help but smile softly back.

But John quickly wipes the smile off his face and gets back to business. Yeah, sorry about leaving the pack initially and all, but he had a bit of self discovery to do. Ya see, John went and battled with the boss. Surprised at his insolence, he's now got the attention of everybody there.

Anyway, John tried to beat the leader into submission, but he failed spectacularly and for the first time he can remember. The experience taught him something he's still too proud to state clearly, but the important thing is that it motivated him to come back. Oh, btw, the big guy himself has a message to share, generously saving the audience from further elaboration on events they've seen take place:

Akakabuto's stronghold is expanding further, and, though on a forgivingly smaller scale then the Ohu dogs, he is also attempting to grow an army of followers. The sonuvabitch may be a horrifying monster, but he ain't fuckin' stupid. He is aware that a massive hoard of dogs are coming to get him, so he's setting up counter measures to stay one step ahead of them. The troops have to hurry and expand their numbers fast, for the battle is rapidly approaching. It's only a matter of time before Akakabuto and his bears begin overtaking human settlements.

This is all well and good, like thanks for the update and all, but everyone becomes distracted by the unmistakable smell of shit burnin' down. Cross is the first to notice the orange-gold light and incredible heat illuminating the woods beyond. The dogs rush over to see what exactly is happening.

It's the Iga manor. The ancient house is quickly going up in flames, much to everyone's surprise. Even more Nani? inducing is the culprit of the mansion toasting himself, Akame.

The Kishu is standing unwavering in front of the burning building. He's grasping a burning tree branch in his mouth, no doubt having gotten it from the tree that had previously been smoldering. The night sky is alight with storm and flame alike as Akame's children run up to him and ask him what the fuck he's done.

Turns out Akame's just tired of the bullshit. He's tired of constantly having to hold off the violent cannibals they have as neighbors. He's tired of living separate from those who could serve as close allies and true friends. He's tired of leading his sons and daughters into battles they cannot win.

Fuck the house, Akame's turning a new leaf. From now on he'll be dedicating his power to the Ohu army's cause and he encourages the remaining Igas to come with. At least then their ability to whoop ass will be useful beyond gang wars.

"Akame!" a ragged voice hollers from somewhere in the woods. "You little coward!"

Everyone looks. It's Kurojaki, his mottled fur caked in dry blood, his single eye bulging. He runs over to the Igas but he doesn't make as if to attack them. Instead, he just keeps yelling, his thoughts spilling like vomit from his mouth.

Akame just HAS to be this extra, doesn't he? First Kurojaki loses his wife. Then his own child is used to humiliate him. And now Akame is burning down the one solace he had left, swiftly destroying his life's mission of overtaking the manor. With one last gibbered out swear Kurojaki leaps into the burning house.

The smell of roasted kindling is quickly laced with, then overpowered by, the stench of burning hair and melting flesh. Kurojaki screams bloody murder as the flames engulf him. Gin gazes into the abyss of Kurojaki's one eye before it pops, bubbles, and oozes down his cheek, its gooey remains soon joined by his eyebrows and the last fringes of his white mohawk. Despite his agony the mongrel makes no effort to escape the flames, instead collapsing without struggle on the immolated wooden floor.

If this whole sight wasn't fucked enough, a whole chorus of desperate cries also approach the house. It's several of the remaining Kogas all hollering out to their leader. Loyalty may be a virtue, but the outpouring of devotion from the cult leads each and every one of the mohawked dogs to leap into the flames alongside their master.

Upon realizing the hoard won't stop making like they're campfire marshmallows, Gin tries to stop them. He's just shoved out of the way. The only Koga who neither leaps into the flames or runs away is baby Tesshin. Instead the child begins nestling into, oddly enough, Wilson's ankle as he watches his family burn to death.

Akame squints into the flames as the Kogas' agonized screams fade away. The cloudy night sky finally starts drip dropping rain down on the scene and working quickly to extinguish the house. Once the flames have subsided everyone gathers to stare into the wreckage.

Gin takes the first step into the charred remains of the manor. The blackened, crumbling corpses of so many canines litter the floor. Gin hasn't felt like crying this much since his first beating from Gohei, but something physically holds him back. He lip trembles as he looks from the bodies to Akame.

Despite everything the shithead put him through, Akame, with poise unmatched by anyone on Earth, respectfully wishes that Kurojaki and his people could have dedicated themselves to a cause that wasn't so heinous. He also wishes that they may now rest in peace. Many years of anguish and war have lead up to this point, but if nothing else it served to prove that Kurojaki had a lotta resolve.

Now that nobody's gonna come in the middle of the night and kill them dead the group allows themselves to settle in and get some shut eye. Everyone is curling up beside each other when Wilson awkwardly walks up to the hoard. Tiny little Tesshin follows behind him.

Wilson seems especially interested in speaking with Gin, who is nestled in between Ben and Cross. While the Collie coyly bows respectfully to Gin, Tesshin recognizes Cross and runs to her so he can tug on her ears.

Wilson apologizes for the whole almost-committing-infantacide thing. He's deeply ashamed of how low he stooped to strike back against his Kurojaki. Now that he's gotten to see him die in literally the most painful way possible, Wilson hasn't got any ill will towards any Kogas anymore, least of all the only truly innocent one. He accepts that what he did was super shitty even if he'd been blinded by immense grief. He wants to do right and contribute to something that matters, so he'd like to know if everyone - Ben, Cross, Gin - would allow him to stay with the pack.

Nobody responds for a moment, though Gin makes as if he wants to say something. Instead the first to speak is Cross. She tells Wilson that despite the immorality of his behavior she understands his pain. She takes a deep breath and places her paw over Ben's, which seems to have signaled him to lean soothingly against her. Cross begins explaining to Wilson - and Gin, just cause he's there - what her life was like before she joined the Ohu army.

Cross was, as most of the folks here were, a hunting dog. She met Akakabuto once or twice out in the wild, but it took her a while to stand off against him in earnest. Before then she had been bred to another Saluki (Ben politely doesn't say anything to this) and had a litter of puppies. She was blessed with the chance to raise and live with her children into their early adult years, but this is Ginga so her backstory wouldn't have been brought up if it'd stayed idyllic forever.

Her master brought her and her 2 year old children along on a hunt one day when the group was met with the pants-shittingly horrifying sight that is Akakabuto. The bear struck one of Cross's sons across the face, snapping his neck and killing him instantly. Cross and her other children tried to defend themselves and their owner, but one by one her kids were brutally murdered.

The only reason Cross herself survived was because when Akakabuto struck her across the back - the thing that left the scars she bears to this day - she took a fall so hard that she couldn't get up and he believed her to be dead.

All throughout this battle Cross and her kids had been looking desperately to their master for help, but he never given it. While they'd tried to defend the man with their lives, he had been running away and leaving them for dead.

Akakabuto eventually grew bored of the dead dogs and left them behind. When she felt some degree of safe, Cross had crawled over to each of her children's corpses and wept into them.

For a while Cross had nothing much to live for. She didn't care about her owner anymore - in fact, she hated just about the whole of humanity at this point sans one human child who had once fed her while she was wandering aimlessly - and her children were all dead. The only thing that kept her going was her hatred for Akakabuto, her burning desire to see him pay for what he'd done to her.

But she had never been a stray before, and despite her strength it was hard to make ends meet. She barely ate enough to fill a cavity most days and she was quickly growing weak, emaciated, and depressed. She'd felt like giving up.

It was around this point when a red and white Akita Inu had found her. At first she had been afraid of him given he was a wild-looking, battlescarred character with an unreadable face, but he'd shown her a kindness she hadn't felt for a long time. He'd lead her back to his pack, an impressively large collective of other former hunting dogs, and told them that she was their guest. They were to treat her with kindness and feed her back to health before letting her go.

The soldiers were mostly nice to her, if a bit awkward regarding her emotional state. Most of them were dudes and the chicks in the bunch were more about biting and killing then offering any TLC. There was one dog who was especially kind to her, though. His name was Ben (Ben smiles and twitches his ears at the mention of his name), and he was an extremely noble, involved dog who lead the first platoon. She and him instantly clicked, and so they became fast friends.

Cross quickly regained her lost weight and, with Ben's help, regained her lost muscle mass... and then some! So grateful was she for both Ben's kindness and the boss's generosity that she insisted she stay with the pack. She humbly requested membership to the first platoon, promising that she could keep up with the others. She even offered to train under Ben's supervision if need be.

The leader had smiled at her and responded with a gentle nod and a twinkle in his eye. The rest, as they say, is history.

So engrossed in Cross's story was Gin that he'd barely noticed when Wilson laid down beside them. He also didn't really notice when Ben told Wilson that he was welcome so long as he used violence as a means of achieving peace, not as a means of releasing his anger. Nor did he notice when Tesshin wobbled over to Moss and his son and was happily invited to spend the night tucked between the pudgy Mastiff's enormous paws.

But he does notice when Cross winks at him and tucks herself tightly against her doghusband, and he takes this as a sign that storytime is over.

Gin settles in beside his friends to sleep, now better understanding the depth of their devotion. As he dozes he imagines Riki (or, at least, the dog who looks a shittonne like Riki) offering shelter to a boney Cross, training up gentle giant Ben, and lovingly smiling down from his perch at his ever-growing pack.

He imagines the Riki Dog smiling down at him, too, and reaching out a paw to him. Before he can imagine himself touching paws with the boss he fades into a deep, dreamless sleep.

At the buttcrack of dawn the troops head out. They're now joined by John, Wilson, the remaining Igas, and even Kurojaki's little son (who Moss has begun happily carrying around in between the folds on his back). The mission to find more soldiers continues on, and all the dogs begin the journey southward to scope out more canine meatheads for their cause.

Bust out the water wings, folks, because the troops are headed to the seaside. Gin's never seen the ocean before, so he's super weirded out by so much water in one place. John considerably refrains from mocking him for not  knowing what the sea is and explains that crossing the ocean is necessary to reach different countries. Given that John once lived in some mysterious land called Your Up, Gin takes his word for it.

The gang boards an abandoned ship half submerged in the ocean. Gin takes a chance to gaze over the edge and into the water below. His eyes sparkle with curiosity as the waves wash to and fro before the boat.

His gaze follow the waves as they go out and out and out further and further away, the expanse of water stretching out miles ahead. Also miles ahead is a mass of land that looks no larger then a grain of rice. Gin excitedly calls out that he's found a foreign country.

Wilson politely tells Gin that he's got a good eye, but that's not a foreign country. It's just Shikoku. Ole Willy used to travel there frequently during his circus days, and it's also where he met nomadic Mortal Enemy #2.

Before Wilson has a chance to elaborate, Ben interrupts. He closes his foggy eyes and takes in the sounds of the waves before saying that yeah, Shikoku's pretty lit. Lotsa bodybuilder types over there, dogs specifically bred and raised for battle. This fills Gin with the sort of glee that'd seem excessive in a hyperactive schoolgirl. Gin begs the dane to let him go on a field trip to Battle Dog Island.

Everything is a blurry mass of God-knows-what in Ben's eyes, but even he can tell Shikoku is a long ways away. He asks how exactly Gin plans on getting there, to which Gin responds with, "Swimming, of course." This is foolish, obviously, as doggy paddling that far through these waters would be impossible. Ben kindly but firmly tells Gin that he'll be just as much help in gathering troops here.

Ben turns with a degree of finality back into the captain's quarters, his face turning redder then normal as he bonks his muzzle into the doorframe. Despite his upset at being denied permission to abandon ship Gin follows after him in concern when Wilson calls him back.

He tells Gin that he's sorry the kid can't come, but Ben knows best. Gin disagrees - he HAS to go. It's his duty to take Ben's place on the trip, for the newly disabled dog won't make it very far in these conditions.

Several of the dogs seem confused about what this means before Gin passes around volume 3 of the manga and catches them up to speed on how Ben's poisoning has started sapping away his sight. As some of them "ohhhhhhhh" in realization, Smith chimes in with a haven't you people ever heard of not leaving the commander of a platoon behind.

John insists that Gin's a tough cookie, perfect to take Ben's place. So long as he has his immaculate bestie beside him, ofc. He'll be going with Gin, too. Not wanting to be left out, Smith also insists on going. So do the Kai Bros. So does Wilson.

Cross looks as if she wants to say something, but she restrains herself. Gin notices and asks her if she'd like to Come Along by Cosmo Sheldrake. She unconvincingly says she'd love to but she can't leave Ben alone in his condition. It's pretty obvious she's keeping something from everyone, but before they can pry she trots off to join Ben in his quarters.

Smith mutters about how he thinks Cross has been looking a little differently lately but he can't quite put his paw on how. Gin doesn't say anything. Instead he just watches her leave.

Nighttime comes right on schedule. The Ohu dogs are sprawled across the poopdeck, pooped from their travels. Most of them are asleep, but some are only pretending to snooze.

Gin is one of those fakers. He slowly and quietly gathers the other pretenders to join him towards the front of the ship. He has a moment of hesitation before leaping into the water when he sees how aggressive the waves are tonight, but he tries not to show any doubt. This has to be done.

Just before he's about to go, the ever-so-gentle scrapping of claws on wood directs his attention behind him. The gathered gang looks back and sees the Igas are also awake and eager to join them.

Akame feels it's his responsibility to lighten Ben's load in this regard. He'll be leaving the near-sighted dog in the care of Papa Moss. Besides, God only knows what the dogs in Shikoku are like, so why not bring a ninja along just in case? Finally satisfied with the group's size, everyone gathers their courage and jumps into the ocean.

Huge black and blue waves toss the dogs around as they struggle to stay afloat. Smith hesitates at the boat's edge upon realizing what sorta Jackass stunt they're pulling here, but he can't back out now. He gives a loud squeak as he cannonballs into the water.

John's rolling his eyes and mocking Smith's masculinity from the boat when he realizes that he can see a pair of eyes glimmer from nearby. Someone is awake and moving towards them! "Oh shit," John manages as he leaps gracefully in after the others.

Turns out that the nosy parker was just Cross. Upon seeing everyone abandon ship she comes trotting, then running, to the deck's edge. She can just make out the shining wet fur of the dogs in the ocean. She hopes aloud that they'll make it.

A confused, groggy voice from behind her catches her attention. She turns to see that Ben has woken up. Moss is trailing behind, a still snoozing Tesshin draped across his broad forehead. Ben asks Cross what she's doing awake. All is still. The silence speaks volumes, and Ben realizes that Gin has taken off in one of his hare-brained schemes again. Cross is about to defend the kid's decision when Ben sorta just shrugs and sighs.

Ben figures that when someone like Gin gets an idea in his head, he won't abandon it. He'll either learn his lesson the hard way or live to do them all a great service, and Gin's proven time and time again he's not likely to up and die on them. Besides, the dane admits, he kinda wanted to ask Gin to ride (swim?) shotgun anyway, but he couldn't justify asking the youngest troop to do it. Though Ben can't see the dogs swim away he still looks out towards the sea.

The dogs swim for a longass time, paddling in their namesakeway as the waves threaten to toss them into space. Shikoku both is and isn't as far away as they imagined, and this eats away at their patience while they grow more and more tired. Gin is capable of leading the charge given his childhood waterboardings but he's also losing steam.

The only thing keeping him moving is the sliver of moonlight above. When the partial moon is intercepted by the clouds, the shape it forms bears resemblance to Riki's silhouette atop his Throne Hill. Gin can't let the big man down.

After a while the dogs come across a reprieve from their struggle: a tiny island, little more then a small hunk of muddy, sandy land sticking up out the water. Shikoku isn't much further now, but the whole lot is swung out. There's just enough room on the puny isle to allow everyone refuge for the night.

The dogs all adorably snuggle up beside each other to keep warm against the cold ocean winds. As Gin rests his head across John's shoulders he takes one last peek at the moon. The Riki Clouds have vanished. He just sighs and closes his eyes.

Night turns to day and things are getting interesting in Shikoku. A nationwide dog fighting tournament is in full swing, making everyone reading this instantly a little less comfortable. In this particular fight, two Tosa dogs named Niouryu ("Nio dragon") and Musashi ("master warrior") are duking it out to a screaming crowd of weirdos who like watching dogs sumo wrestle.

Musashi's gotten the drop on Niouryu and is clearly winning via attempted strangulation. For the sake of saving Niouryu's life and so as I never have to write that name again, the fight is broken up and Musashi is declared winner.

This is very exciting news for the Musashi fans in the crowd because it means that the dude has won the Dog Wrastling championship for the 2nd year in a row. True, he's working his way up from middleweight to heavyweight, but this ain't no small potatoes. Musashi's unmatched prowess is celebrated as he is donned in traditional championship garb. The dog proudly holds his scarred head high as he gazes wistfully into the distance. His nose twitches as he detects something strange on the wind.

Musashi's trainer takes him back to his kennel alongside several other competitors. All of the dogs, Mushie Boy included, begin barking, seemingly alerted to something nearby. Musashi's trainer doesn't know what to make of this so he leaves the kennel to go snooping around in the hopes of finding the source of the dogs' intruige.

Unseen to all but the fighters' noses, the Ohu dogs reveal that they've made it to Shikoku by posing mysteriously atop the high stone wall surrounding the kennels. Gin gazes down at Musashi. They GOTTA get this guy to join the army.

The Ohu dogs climb down from the wall and disappear into the nearby woods until the sun begins to set and all the humans are gone. The kennel dogs have just settled in when the same smell from before recaptures their interest. Musashi growls but refrains from barking when he sees three synchronized silhouettes approach his cage.

"Who is it? Who's there?" Musashi says with all the confidence of a lion who's punched God to death.

The shadows whisper in low voices that that's not important right now. What is important is that Musashi agrees to come with.

Musashi doesn't feel like missing bedtime so he tells them to fuck off. One of the silhouettes, the one missing an ear, tells him that if he doesn't willingly join their canine convoy they're gonna force him to. Musashi demonstrates that this is an incredibly stupid thing to say to a fighting champion in a way that surprises the trio. He knows how to open his kennel and he's feeling cranky. He grabs the one eared dog as the stripey group tries to scatter.

Luckily for the Kai Kens the other kennel dogs are barking up a storm, all jerring and yelling FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT. This noise would serve only as an irritant if it didn't cause someone, a human, to call out in confusion. A light inside a nearby building turns on.

Moments later the circular beam of a flashlight can be seen from the other side of the yard. Musashi has an Oh Shit moment and releases the dog he's holding. He tells the three that he's impressed by their ballsiness, but if they wanna live to see another day they need to pound pavement.

The dogs seem less afraid of Musashi's threats then they do of the man with the light. As the man calls out to the dogs the three brindles scramble out of the yard, each making a beeline for the treeline. Once he's certain they've left, Musashi meekly sits down and waits for his master to come find him. The man joins him within a moment and scoffs, scolds Musashi for breaking out again, and finally leads the dog back to his kennel.

The Kai Bros (btw it was so obviously the Kai Bros who came aknocking on Musashi's door) start heading back into the forest, kicking pebbles in their path and muttering about how it sucks ass that they didn't successfully kidnap someone to fight a war with them. As Chutora and Kurotora begin detailing just how much ass the situation sucks, Akatora tells them to shut their yapholes and hide. Someone - a LOT of someones, it smells like - are following them. The brothers dive into the bushes.

An asstonne of quadrapedal silhouettes dot the hills nearby. The strangers smell unfamiliar and are poised as if they mean business so Akatora tells everyone to head back to Gin. His littermates start whining about how running away isn't very cash money of them but Akatora nips them on the backsides to move them along. By this point he wouldn't have needed to put tooth to butt. The pack has descended from their vantage point and is headed straight for them.

The trio takes off in a gallop as tens of angry looking dogs, all barking and yelling for the intruders to stop, give chase. Kurotora's got a terrible Napoleon complex going on so he gives up running and instead tries to fight some of the dogs away. This backfires phenominally badly because the pack swiftly overpowers him, then overpowers his bros when they come running to his defense. Manly, agonized screams ring out in the night.

Somewhere insultingly close by Gin and his coterie have noticed the commotion. John proposes that sending the most overzealous and tactless of them to convince a champion fighter to leave his home wasn't a great decision. Though Gin realizes he fucked up by doing this, he's too proud to show the embarassment he feels for his idea. Instead he just tells everyone they oughta go see what the screaming's for so as to make sure they're not down three soldiers.

The troops head deeper into the forest, each keeping their eyes peeled and ears open to see if they can find the disappeared brothers. The Igas try to contribute to the search by leaping through the trees and ahead of the pack. The thick smell of an unfamiliar group lingers in the air, but no one can be seen.

No, wait, there is someone there. A sliver of moon shine casts a dim spotlight over a muscular dog carrying something red and black and striped all over. It's Musashi! He's got a concerned look on his face and a busted up Akatora stretched across his back.

"I'm guessing the Kai brothers didn't convince you to come peacefully?" Smith asks, the urge to alleviate the situational tension clouding his manners.

Musashi shrugs and allows Akatora to slip from his shoulders and onto the ground. Gin quickly looks over the Kai Ken as John snaps at Musashi for doing this to their friend. Musashi's eyes grow wide and spiteful. He tells the dogs to lay off for chrissakes. Believe it or don't, he's here to help. Akatora agrees in a choked voice; Musashi rescued him when he was too injured to save his brothers.

Gin asks Musashi to explain what the shit's happening so the Fite Club veteran lays it all out. The triplets were attacked by a pack that lives in these here parts, a pack that's lead by a dastardly bastard whos exploits encourage gossip even among the most seasoned of fighting dogs. This aforementioned bastard goes by Bandit Bill, and he's a notoriously brutal brown doberman who lives in an abandoned Buddhist shrine. He's a territorial sort and was probably upset that a buncha insolent strays came piddlefarting around his domain.

Before Musashi goes on about Billy the Kid he gives a broken smile and says he'd gone to follow the obnoxious brothers upon realizing that they might have ties to the giant army of dogs that's been growing and moving across Japan. Gin gapes, somehowhaving been oblivious to how a nomadic collective of dedicated troops might catch the populace's attention.

Musashi states that he's glad the army seems real because it means he can be flattered at how they've come to recruit him. Bee tee dubbya, he's totally down to join them. He's been a fighting dog long enough for it to get dull. The old man is ready to live out the rest of his life as one big adventure.

A second later a white dog drops down from the trees. It's Akame here to say that he and the other fair furred folk have managed to locate Chutora and Kurotora. The good news is that they're still alive. The bad news is that they're in front of a weird, ancient looking monument swarming with buff-looking dogs. Musashi confirms that that's Bill's pad, though he doesn't understand why Bill would keep trespassers around instead of just killing them.

Gin immediately announces a rescue mission. Musashi tells everyone to hold their horses. He's gonna go home and bring back his posse to help sort this out. Bill isn't a bloodthirsty idiot - standing in front of him isn't a death sentence - but he needs to know these guys have backup. It'd also be easier for locals to get information outta him  as opposed to new guys from across the sea. Better to talk then fight, yeah?

Musashi departs while warning the troops that it'll be a hot minute before he busts open all the kennels at home, but he swears he'll be back by morning. Given there's not much they can do til Musashi gets back, the dogs set up camp for the night. The night seemingly passes without incident, and the crowing of a rooster can be heard as the sun rises.

Wait, did I say rooster? Oopsie! I meant Smith starts shrieking to the other soldiers that OH SHIT, GIN IS MISSING. John wakes with a start at his friend's name, and as soon as he's truly concious there's no doubt in his mind as to where Gin is.

Predictably Gin has run off to solve this problem by himself. Only this time he has a moment of self reflection. He realizes aloud that he very often ends up helping, yes, but he also has the habit of tying situations in big, complicated knots by making decisions on the fly... just like he's doing right now.

And yet he can't say he feels remorse for it. He doesn't have the time to. He needs to save his friends. He needs to prove himself to Ben. He needs to do this to protect the village, the people, his family, his Daisuke.

The ancient monument, Bill's Bandit Bed-n-Breakfast, is lookin' pretty eerie in the shady woods. The only thing that makes the dark, imposing forest more intimidating is the two dog heads sticking out of the dirt smack dab in the middle of the monument's front yard. It's Chutora and Kurotora, and both are exhausted from struggling to escape their halfassed graves. A deep, slimy voice cackles triumphantly as something lithe, black, and endlessly shitty exits the building.

It's General Sniper! The bastard merrily licks his lips as he watches the Kais struggle to free themselves from the Earth's unwelcome hug. Mr. S is just about to go on about how great he is or some shit when a dog from Bill's pack, one who had totalled the Kai Bros, runs into view and tells him there's an issue. They have a visitor, someone none of Bill's crew has ever seen before. Sniper runs to the arch out front.

Gin's parked his little silver ass just in front of the arch and is refusing to explain to any of Bill's soldiers why he's here until he has council with Billiam The Bad Guy himself.

"I am a representative of the leader of Ohu," he says in the deepest voice he can muster, "and I shall tell you no more. Please allow me to speak to your boss."

"Oh, no, I don't think that's going to happen," Sniper says snidely.

Gin is surprised to see the hoodlum here, but Sniper doesn't explain himself. Instead, his brow crinkles cruelly as he repeats what Gin said: so, he's here to rep for Ohu, huh? Got himself a promotion, ey? How charming.

Sniper turns to Bill's men and explains that this stupid kid's boss is a tyrant trying to take over Shikoku's prime real estate, ignoring Gin's protests and cries of What The Hell Dude. Bill's men approach Gin to tackle him, but Gin leaps past them before they can.

Gin continues to frog-hop his way onto the front lawn where he's shocked to find two of his compadres buried alive. Little Chu and Kuro, Too yell at him to get out, it's a trap! But Gin's too stubborn to listen. He ignores their pleading begins trying to dig them out instead.

While Gin is distracted, Sniper launches himself into the Akita and sends him flying. Gin quickly rights himself, his nose bleeding, and swears aloud while telling Sniper it's unsportsmanlike to strike from behind. The little German chickenshit better be ready to fight because his treason will not go unpunished.

Sniper yells a barrage of death threats at Gin as if all of Twitter is rushing through his veins when he hears one of Bill's men call for everyone to retreat. Sniper looks up and dumbly utters a confused "Huh?". The Ohu dogs have caught up to Gin, and they're here to stop this madness!

Sniper tells Bill's troops not to puss out of a fight. They've got enough dogs to rival these suckers. The troops comply and the fur starts to fly. For a moment it seems like the Ohu dogs will be able to swiftly end this battle. Unfortunately, they lose the upper hand just as swiftly.

Sniper has made his way over to Kurotora and he's got his fangs pressed up against the black brindle's jugular. He mumbles through a mouthful of dog neck that the Ohu folks must surrender to The Bill Brigade or else he'll start killing the helpless hostages. Gin blurts out for the Ohu dogs to stop fighting without a second thought. Sniper responds by telling his ex-army not to move or else the stripey guy gets it.

Bill's fighters take this as a chance to start beating the shit outta the now motionlss soldiers. Gin's eyes fill with tears of frustration and realization at the severity of the impossible situation before them. Before anyone can die, however, someone else comes in and smacks Sniper so hard he flies back a few feet.

It's another Doberman, a brown and tan one with sunken eyes. This other pinscher says in a deep, silken voice that Sniper can kindly fuck off with this sadism. Bandit Bill can handle his own intruders, thank you very much. Besides, he doesn't believe in killing for the fun of it. If Sniper wants to be his right-hand man he needs to respect the rules of Bill's domain.

Sniper half-snarls, half-whines to Bill about how all is fair in love and war. Gin tells his cliche ass to shut up because the Ohu lads aren't here to fight. They're here to ask for help.

Before any more nonsense can go down someone calls ahoy from the arch. It's Musashi! The big man has kept true to his word and has brought tens of his fighting buds with him, many more dogs then the Ohu guys knew lived in his kennel. Indeed a small army of Tosas trail behind Musashi-sama as he steps up to greet Bill.

Mushmush asks in the voice of a gossiping old biddy if Billy has heard of these guys. They're bear hunters with good intentions, ya know. Bill says that yeah, he's heard about the bear stuff, but their former general here has a different story to tell.

Gin insists Sniper is a big fat stupid ugly liar. They're not here to steal land or dominate Shikoku or whatever, they deadass just need soldiers for their cause. Musashi interjects by saying he's not one to get involved in work place drama. To him it seems the real issue is that Gin and Sniper need to settle a beef they've been fostering. Bill appreciates the sentiment (as well as any chance he gets to watch a good fight), so he agrees. Let these two handle this shit the old fashioned way: with tooth and nail.

Gin licks the tacky, drying blood from his nose and dives at Sniper so as to get this party started. Sniper catches him off guard and sends him flying into a tree's trunk. Gin starts scrambling to his feet but he's not quick enough to dodge Sniper snagging him by the scruff of the neck. John almost rushes forward to intervene when Akame restrains him and assures him that they can save Gin if it comes to it, but they'd better hang back in case they upset Bill.

Sniper wildly moves his jaw around and leaves big bloody slashes across Gin's neck, his teeth fumbling around the kid's collar. Realizing he can't tear Gin's throat out with the big leather slab in the way, Sniper has another idea. He tells everyone to watch what happens when you fuck with Mr. S as he gives Gin's neck a hard squeeze and an even harder twist. All the dogs gape in horror as they hear a bizarre, powerful snap. Sniper releases his grip on Gin's neck and the Akita tumbles to the dirt.

John swears loudly. He wastes no time in detailing how he's gonna shove Sniper's ass down his throat when a weak cough makes everyone aware that Gin is still moving. Even Sniper is surprised as the dogs watch Gin hobble to his feet.

Blood is oozing from Gin's clearly not-broken neck. Just before one can say "wait so like what happened", Gin's leather collar slips off his shoulders and hits the ground with a small thump. A white tear in the leather ring explains the strange breaking noise.

For just a second Gin is lost in the memory of when he was given the collar. It wasn't Gohei who'd bestowed it upon him. It had been Diasuke. The boy had said that it had once been worn by Gin's dad, which may or may not have just been a cover for a convenient purchase from Pet Smart. Regardless, Gin silently thanks Daisuke for giving him protection he didn't even know he had, and he thanks God himself for giving him the massive muscles he needs to tear Sniper a new one.

And tear he does, for he begins giving this asslancing all he's got. He runs rings around Sniper, leaps down upon him from the trees, and finishes off his display of hypermasculinity by swinging the Doberman from a hind leg until the pitiful would-be dictator cries out for him to stop.

Gin does indeed stop, but not without placing a humilation cherry on this assbeating sundae. He swings the pinscher into a branch of a tree. When he lets go all can see that Sniper's dangling from the branch by his spiked collar.

"Shit! Damnit!" Sniper howls, defeated. "Let me down! Someone let me down!" But nobody comes to his aid. Either they're too stunned or, like Smith, are laughing at the ridiculous sight. Bill takes Sniper's dangling very seriously, though, and he calls up to Sniper that he's ashamed to be the same breed as him. Then he turns to Musashi with a smile. He would be giving a slow, polite clap if he had hands.

Gin relishes the moment by boldly telling Sniper to never show his ugly mug again because he's the one dog alive, the one dog in the whole world, who Gin will never forgive. The youngin gives the stuck up commander one last chance to fuck off and live peacefully elsewhere. Sniper only responds with more swearing and even more desperate pleas for help.

Gin thanks Musashi for his backup. He's about to thank Bill too when the Doberman takes a step back. Oh no, he's not getting buddy-buddy with anyone yet.

Musashi looks like he's about to roll up his non-existant sleeves and convince Bill otherwise when the dobie explains: Bill would like to meet this Ohu Boss guy himself before deciding if he's gonna join anyone else's army. He's willing to go with, but no promises on whether or not he'll be killing any bears.

Gin figures this is as good as it's gonna get, so he nods and welcomes Bill into the fold. John playfully elbows Gin in the side. This is all well and good, but it's about time to get back to Ben, yeah?

Before everyone can start planning the cruise back, Musashi stops them and gives them a tip. There's an even stronger dog who lives out here, some dude who's rumored to be the strongest in the world. The Ohu troops look intrigued. Some of them excitedly ask Gin if he'd like to meet this superdog. Of course Gin's like HELL YEAH. The dogs all depart, leaving Sniper cursing and swaying from the tree.

And so all three of the packs (the Ohu soldiers, Musashi's crew, and Bill's cronies) join together and start their trek to meet the world's strongest dog. Next stop: the city of Uwajima. Gin allows Musashi to show them the way, but he can tell by how his men fall in behind him that they're really taking his lead.

Gin can't help but feel a warm sense of pride well up inside him. He hopes he can be as good a commander as Ben. He hopes he can do right by the Ohu leader.

After another day long road trip the dogs emerge panting from the forest onto a cliff overhanging a seaside city. Seemingly having remembered all the times Ben refused to speak up about his own prospective recruits, everyone quickly asks Musashi to describe the dog they're after. Musashi's less reserved then Benny is so he settles on his haunches and launches into a story for the ages.

Benizakura ("crimson cherry blossom") is his name, and dog fighting is his game. The dude is an astoundingly tall and muscular Tosa Inu mix as well as an honored veteran in the fighting world. Legend has it he was born 10 years ago in Japan's snowiest mountain region. He was born to two village mutts of unknown ancestory and for a while he was a simple housepet. That was before he turned 2, at which point his master realized there was money to be made off of him after having seen him tear a cheeky village dog he hated he limb from limb.

By the age of 3 Benizakura had effectively dominated the dog fighting championships. He'd body slamming his way through medium, then large, then heavyweight dogs one by one. He traveled all over Japan and had made his mark on history by never losing a single fight. It came as a surprise to nobody when he finally entered the running for the nation's top canine yokozuna (highest rank in sumo wrestling.)

When he'd clawed his way to the big leagues, his greatest opponent was Japan's then-current champion yokozuna. This dog was an equally imposing purebred Tosa named Tsuna Arashi ("rope storm"). Tsuna was no spring chicken - by this point he'd been about 8 or 9 years old - but he'd spent the last 6 years of his life claiming and reclaiming his championship title. Though it was apparent upon their first meeting that Tsuna respected Benizakura's perserverance, the champ had no intention of letting the younger dog take his glory.

Musashi says that this fight was one for the books which I guess makes it highly unfortunate that dogs can't read. Hell, even the wet-behind-the-biceps kids Musashi used to train would recount it with awe.

See, the two dogs' gameness had been admirably strong. They'd never once relented in their assault of each other. Not when their muscles began to quake, not when they drooling bloody spittle, not when Benizakura's ears had been torn to ribbons. Kick, bite, snarl, tear, claw, throw, strike.

Their faces wet with blood and their muscles failing, neither dog refused to give in. And because of that the match's thirty minute time limit came to an end. No decided victor could be decided between them.

Tsuna Arashi was carted away by his master and Benizakura was left in an exhausted rage. He hadn't won. He hadn't even lost. He'd gotten nothing. Nothing at all but a face full of scars and two ragged stumps where his ears used to be.

Time passed without much incident for Benizakura as he continued his training at home. He still had the respect of his peers, and the dude was as strong as ever. His ears couldn't be saved, but they could be cropped, and so his master gave him a battle crop so low his stumpy little ear nubs were almost flush with his skull.

After a few more months of training Benizakura's owner suggested a rematch against Tsuna, but the dog's owner declined. Tsuna was an old fart by now. His eyes were riddled with cataracts, he had developed diabetes, and he was ready to retire. And so Benizakura was blue balled cruelly by fate, never managing to win himself that championship from his greatest foe.

Musashi pauses for a moment before Gin asks what happened after that. Musashi continues his tale of whoopass woe by detailing that, being a dog and not having the context to these conversations, Benizakura never stopped itching for a chance to beat Tsuna Arashi for real. He'd continued his training, continued his hoping.

Three years later just before his 6th birthday, Benizakura finally felt ready to try again. When he came to realize Tsuna would never return on his own accord, Benizakura had busted out of his kennel and gone to find Tsuna himself.

Benizakura crossed water and shore and forest to find Tsuna Arashi, and eventually he did. What he found horrified him. The blind, elderly dog was locked in a pen and being chewed up and spat out piece by piece by the next generation of fighting dogs.

Tsuna Arashi had become a miserable bait animal biding his time til one of his master's newest pupils got too overzealous and handled him just a little too roughly. The sight stopped Benizakura's blood cold. It was then that he'd realized that if he stayed in the fighting game this would be his future, too.

Enraged at the injustice of it all, Benizakura leapt into Tsuna's pen and killed the other dogs, their humans looking while the beast of an animal ripped their livelihoods apart. And this is what they would call him from now on: The Beast. A fitting name given his mauled appearance and massive stature.

But Benizakura either didn't notice the humans screaming or he didn't care. Covered in blood, he'd merely leapt out of the pen just as swiftly as he'd leapt into it, this time leaving a dazed and confused Tsuna Arashi behind.

Since then Benizakura hasn't returned to his OG master. Hell, the only evidence that he may still be alive at all is the fact that Uwajima locals catch a glimpse at him now and again. The Beast has become a sort of Japanese Bigfoot. Though the muscleman lives as a cryptid nowadays, Musashi swears by his belief that The World's Strongest Dog is still alive. The hard part will be finding him.

Meanwhile, back at the ship the Ohu dogs have claimed as a temporary home base, Cross has been left in charge because both Moss and Ben have had to take off due to pressing circumstances. Cross is pretty miffed at being left behind, but Ben had just assured her that her service is appreciated and he'd be back in a jiffy.

Problem is that several jiffies end up passing by as Cross waits and she's getting tired of leading troops on simple hunting missions. These dogs can take care of themselves without someone telling them how to hold down the fort. But what about Gin?

Gin's nearing 2 years now, but he's still so young and has so little experience. Dogs don't have cell phones or group chats so there's really no way to tell how he's doing. And so Cross nudges a subordinate named Luke, a speckled pointer mix, and tells him to take care of business while she gets the scoop on the wayward pooches.

Luke seems bashful in accepting, trying to murmur out something about how Cross might not be in the best way to brave the sea, but Cross won't be having it. She says her goodbyes and then dives into the waves. The tide has settled exponentially but the ocean still does a good job at knocking her around.

While Cross is boogie boarding, Wilson and Gin are poking around the peaceful streets of Uwajima. Most of what they see is quiet, amiable people going about their business, but there is one especially loud something happening nearby. Gin says it sounds like a lotta hooplah for boring city stuff, but Wilson disagrees.

Willy had once traveled here when his circus made its rounds in Shikoku and, if memory serves correctly, bull baiting is a common sport in the region. That's probably what they're hearing now. He assures Gin it's not worth getting involved - bulls don't fight bears - but Gin ignores him and goes to see anyway.

The two make like everyone in this damn story does and stand atop a hill overlooking the bullfight. It's a big runny-aroundy event taking place inside a wooden pen surrounded by hooting, hollering humans. Several of them are cheering for someone called "Don", and in the pen with a very pissed-off bovine stands an absolute unit of a dog.

Gin's eyes widen as he examines the pooch: massive Ginga pecs, Tosa Inu mix, ears cropped almost flat against his head. It's him. It must be him. Benizakura. Wilson tries to explain that Musashi said Benizakura is more like a sasquatch then a regular sports enthusiast, but Gin just excitedly grasps at Wilson's fluffy white chest and tells him to look, look! As the two watch, the dog, presumably the aforementioned Don, uses all his chunk to snag the immature bull by the neck and flip it over using its center of gravity against it. The crowd goes fucking nuts, and too Gin is beside himself with delight. Wilson concedes that maybe, just maybe, this dog IS the strongest in the world.

Someone in the pin comes and separates Don from the bull. As he does so a young boy comes running up to grab Don by the neck and shower him with praise. The old dog seems pretty pleased with himself, holding his head high as the onlookers cheer.

Wilson's not entirely convinced this dude is Benizakura, but he does believe that the army could use this veritable canine tank in their ranks. He asks Gin how he proposes they get the Hulk Hogan of animals to come with. Gin deadass just takes off in a run.

Wilson calls out to Gin to slow his roll, but this roll ain't stoppin' anytime soon. Gin leaps over several gawking onlookers, each one alarmed and confused. Then the Akita aims right for Don while yelling, "Forgive my rudeness, Benizakura!"

The old dog falters, confused. He poses as if ready to take a blow from Gin, but no blow comes. Instead Gin pulls the canine equivilent of a pantsing and yoinks Don's collar from around his neck.

Don's boychild seems insulted that Gin dare makey his dog nakey and demands he drop it, bad dog, spit it out. Don stands growling at the Akita and Gin stands growling back in return. Gin's worried for a split second that this dude might really just be some random guy, but his fears fade when the old dog snarls through a face full of scars, "Who are you? How do you know my real name?"

Gin smiles around the collar in his mouth as he's overcome with relief. But he doesn't get more then a moment to enjoy having found the living legend because the big guy is running towards him, scolding him for his unorthidox greeting and offering him a similar one in kind. A huge white paw lashes out at Gin's face, smacks him silly, and throws him off his feet.

Wilson watches in a panic on the hill. He wishes he had either backup or a unicycle so he could fix this mess. Benizakura Confirmed lashes a paw out at Gin's face once more, only this time Gin has the foresight to brace himself against it.

The crowd seems stunned that a dog only 2/3rds "Don's" size could stop his strike. Wilson is equally surprised. So is Benizakura.

Upon remembering that they paid to be here, several people in the crowd encourage the new Little Guy to give his all against "Don" while others encourage the sumo vet to snap the youngster over his knee. But Benizakura doesn't do anything escept look intently into Gin's eyes, staring like he means to find something.

Gin smiles his soft, goofy smile once more and tells Benizakura this is what the lawbooks call a case of Pinch, Poke, You Owe Me A Coke. He only struck Benizakura once. Benizakura has struck him twice. Big Man owes him a free hit, and he'll be coming back for it later.

Benizakura seems first confused, then insulted, then confused again by Gin's forwardness. And with nothing more then a wink and a duck, Gin leaves Benizakura behind, foot raised and jaw slack.

Gin leaps back out of the pen and joins Wilson. The crowd goes nuts once again, this time because they're all wondering what the shit they just saw. Wilson and Gin quickly depart.

The Collie scolds Gin for putting so many human eyes on them. Gin says he'll explain why he did what he did later, but for now they need to let everyone know that The Beast lives. Not only that, but he'll be expecting to see Gin again.

On a familiar shoreline, a white mass of hair is lawling miserably around the sand. The fuzzy mop turns out to be a dog, and the dog turns out to be Cross. She didn't stop and take a break like the other dogs but instead swam until she'd reached Shikoku. Her unusually wide sides heave as she coughs up sea water. She tries to settles down for a second, but her ears don't follow her lead. They perk up when she hears a commotion nearby.

Her legs are killing her, but she hobbles to her feet and sways tiredly as she follows the sound of someone - no, several someones - speaking. One of the voices is high and desperate while the other two are deeper and more threatening. As Cross slinks into a hunting crouch, she sees who's doing all the yapping.

A long dog of very small stature is being encircled by two much, much larger dogs. The short king is a Dachshund. It seems like he's trying to look tough while being harassed by the two taller bullies. The big dogs are peeved that weenie boy wandered into their territory, and now they're making like they're going to eat him.

Though she's tired enough to sleep for a week straight, Cross's unyeilding sense of justice refuses to let her rest. She leaps towards one of the dogs and cracks him upside the head. She stands over the living hotdog and snarls at the two, telling them to beat it, beat it. But neither of them wants to be defeated, so they ready themselves to fight.

That is, they ready themselves to fight until realizing that Cross is a bedraggled woman. They pause to laugh at the absurdity of what they believe is some homeless chick saving a manlet from assault before Cross sinks her teeth into one's neck and begins shaking.

These dogs are little more then overgrown puppies, maybe 2 years old at most, and though they're nasty little things they're not very good in a fight. "Hey, lady, stop! Let Beth go!" says the one Cross isn't ripping holes in. The dog in her grasp, presumably Beth, begins whining and crying, obviously not used to real fights.

"Okay, okay! We'll go, we'll go! Please stop!" Beth whimpers submissvely. Cross lets him go with a loud grunt and swears at the unruly teenagers as they make a break for it.

Cross pants as she watches them go, and suddenly she's back to feeling weak. The adrenaline has all but left her system and her righteous power has been turned to a mushy lightheaded feeling. She turns to the little dog to see he's smiling gratefully at her.

He thanks her for her help, though he assures her he definitely could've handled the delinquents himself. She smiles back at him. She asks him what he's doing out here and he responds in a way that surprises her.

The Dachshund explains that he's heard about a roaming pack of dogs playing military, running their own corps and organizing men to battle a man-eating bear. He hopes to join those dogs and prove himself just as capable as any warrior, but his training hasn't been going so well.

He sighs dreamily as he imagines aloud how wicked it'd be to be one of the cool kids. All the cool kids, they seem to get it. It being fame and glory, of course.

Cross's smile grows encouragingly as she tells the little dude to keep at it, for he's bound to contribute to a good cause someday if he keeps that attitude up. He thanks her, then tells her that it's time for him to get back to training. Maybe this time he'll stick to killing squirrels instead of chasing down bigger dogs.

She asks him for his name, and he grins a broken smile. Oliver is his name, and he's pleased to make her aquaintence. After Cross shares her own name Oliver enthusiastically lets her know that if there's ever anything he can do to repay her for her good deed, all she needs to do is give a howl.

As Oliver waddles off, Cross's smile quickly fades. She's not feeling too hot. She's been put under an unusually large amount of strain lately and hasn't allowed herself a moment of rest. Something in her stomach cramps up. She's been puking a lot lately and it looks like what little she has in her gut is coming back up. She tosses her cookies all over the forest floor as the lightheadedness comes back.

She tries to stumble away but her head is too foggy. Her legs give out under her and she rolls to her side upon realizing just how long she'd been at sea. She allows her eyes to close as she breathes in deeply. So distracted by her tiredness is she that she doesn't notice when a long, dark shadow falls over her.

Back in Ohu, the boss is facing off with not one but two oversized red-backed bears. The unusually beefy animals don't intimidate the boss, but their origin does cause some concern. These two are beary obviously assassins sent - and fathered - by Akakabuto himself, the types of visitors the Akita has gotten very used to in the past couple of months. Clearly Redhead isn't happy with an especially jacked dog keeping his troops from more human BBQs. Whatever dude, it'll take more then a couple of homicidal teddies to down this masterful bear killer.

Actually, check that: it takes a couple teddies doing something unexpected to down him. The two big-boned barbarians combine their powers to knock a goddamn tree over and roll it the boss's way. Captain Canine is able to dodge the attack, but he can't do so without leaping over a lump of debris that's blocking his path. Turns out that bear ninjas and dog ninjas have something in common, as the poor dog learns first hand that bears understand the concept of pit traps.

There's no skewers this time, but as the leader tumbles into pit the uprooted tree trunk comes rolling in after him. He gasps and tries to get out of its way, but it's too late. The trunk hits the bottom of the pit with a loud WHAM. The sound of splintering wood and a yelping dog meets the twin terrors' ears.

The assassins grin between themselves. Yes. Finally. The Ohu leader has been defeated. The army will soon crumble, and Akakabuto's reign will be unstoppable.

But enough of alla that, I know what you people really came here to see: John yelling at Gin for making a rash decision! Yes, ole Johnny Boy is annoyed that Gin plans on not only finding Benizakura alone, but wants to leave the rest of the troops hanging back while he does so. Like, Gin, dude, you have an army of walking powerhouses and you don't want their backup against The Strongest Dog In The World Trademark All Rights Reserved?? Especially after the bastard hit you in the face twice???

Various dogs begin barking their suggestions. Gin should beat the shit out of the old fart for disrespecting him (so says the Kai Bros), and Benizakura would be outnumbered and thus forced to comply if everyone ganged up on him (so says Bill.) Gin politely speaks up with a deliberate, "Be quiet," which gets everyone to settle down. Akame clears his throat and nods to Gin, clearly having something he's gotta say. Gin bows and gives the Kishu the floor.

Akame explains that given neither Ben or Cross are here, the next commander in line is Gin. He admits that Gin is young and his decisions are brash, but he can't recall any time Gin's pigheaded determination didn't end with the Ohu dogs getting what they wanted. Besides, it's probably for best that the kid doesn't wanna face this with violence. You don't convince people like Benizakura to join you through ass kicking alone, and if there's one thing Gin's proven he can do it's convince people to be cool.

Gin's face is flush with relief as he quietly thanks Akame for his support. Musashi also agrees with the white guy's elaboration. He tries explaining things from a fighting dog's perspective.

If they all go in to kick Benizakura's ass, he'll just fight them off til he can't fight anymore. They'd just be another challenger, nothing more. But no matter how good a dog is at fighting, he's still just a dog. There is always a side to him that's soft and doughy and vulnerable to what he feels is important. Suddenly becoming aware of himself, Moss peers up at the top of his head where a tiny Tesshin is curled in a ball.

Gin allows Musashi to finish what he's saying before going on to explain himself: it's childhood rules, guys. He hit Benizakura once, Benizakura hit him twice. Ergo, Gin gets one free punchy. Smith laughs and elbows Gin in the chest, guffawing about how the baby of the team would find a way to skew such simple, immature logistics to work on a hardass like Benizakura. This plan is crazy... so crazy........ that it just might work!!!

A while later Cross finds herself on the wooden floor of an old barn. She rubs her face to clear her eyes of grit. Once her vision is clear she sees that she's not alone in the room. A dark shadow of what seems to be a massive dog is sitting before her, its eyes shining as they catch the room's sparse light. The stranger asks her in a crumpled, kind voice if she's doing alright.

Cross's brain finally reactivates and she's all like OH SHIT. The dog before her is an aged Tosa mix, his jowls greying and his face smattered with scars. But that's not nearly the worst of it, she realizes, because it turns out she's been chained to the wall.

She scrambles to her feet and demands to know who this random senior citizen is and why she's stuck in her own private Hotel California. Oldie barely reacts. He just gently informs her that his owner is willing to care for her. She'll be safe here.

As Cross pries desperately at the metal stake chaining her up - no dice - the mutt explains that she's lucky to have been rescued. She'd been delirious, mumbling strange things in her sleep about bears and wars. She also mentioned something about Shikoku, which, spoiler alert, is where she is right now.

Cross finally stops fidgeting and lets this sink in. So she made it after all. She's so glad at the prospect of finding the others that she stops struggling and smiles to herself, then to the other dog.

She gingerly thanks him for saving her, like really she's super grateful and all, but would he mind letting her off this chain? She's on a mission. The dog does not offer to set her free, but he doesn't not offer it either. Instead, he just says that she needs more rest.

Besides that, he's become very curious about her circumstances. What in God's name is she doing out here? So gentle is the old dog's gaze that she heaves a sigh, sits on her haunches, and begins describing Akakabuto to him in livid detail. And then she continues to tell him about the boss, and Ben, and Gin, and the sea, and then something much more recent.

Everyone who didn't leave with Gin was just chilling out in the woods one day hunting some food and determining where they'd go next when a scout they'd sent off, a black lab named Kurobe, had returned with some pretty shitty news: all of the platoons sent up north had been killed, wiped out in one fell swoop. Speaking of being wiped out, Kurobe was also bleeding heavily from deep lacerations. She'd collapsed in a heap before Ben before her breathing had ceased. Kurobe had died soon after.

Livid over the gruesome sight, Moss told Ben that it was time to get serious about his fucky eyesight and get to either an optomitrist or a veterinarian in a nearby human village. Ben wanted to argue, but Moss pushed that there wasn't much time left before the final full moon. Something had to be done about the slain soldiers.

Besides, how was Ben to lead his platoon if he couldn't see? Cross had looked at Ben, part of her hoping he'd stay, part of her hoping he'd leave and return with his vision intact. Ben had decided to leave.

Moss and Cross had discussed what to do. They'd want a small base camp for Gin and the others to come back to, but someone would need to head north to sort out the whole mass murder thing. They decided that the dogs should be split between the two platoon commanders available, those being Great and the newly promoted Cross.

Cross had then elected to hang around the dock to regroup with Gin and welcome back Ben when he returned. Better yet, she'd take a day or two to lead Ben to a village herself. Moss had buckled at the suggestion, asking warily if she wouldn't prefer to stay with Ben at the doctor's.

Oblivious, Cross had said that'd be excessive. She could stand on her own four feet without her man, and the hubby would want someone watching over his troops. Then her face fell, her cheeks stinging with embarrassment. She'd noticed Moss looking at her distended belly.

"You should resign when you can," Moss had said sympathetically. "Take it easy til then, but resign when you can. For your family's sake."

And with that he had departed, had followed behind Great as the dane had directed half the dogs away. Cross had stood shaking from both frustration and anguish before Ben trotted up and reminded her that he had a hot date with an eye surgeon. She'd just gritted her teeth, licked his face, and led him through the woods.

The old dog had been listening very intently to Cross this whole time, and even now she could tell he was paying her mind despite his focus being outside the shed. The dog remarks that this has all accumulated in her coming to find some scruffy punk kid with tiger stripes, huh? Well, he doesn't believe in guarantees, but he can promise her that she'll be seeing that kid soon. Cross cocks an eyebrow high enough to count as a Dreamworks audition before realizing what he means.

Not 50 feet from the hut is Gin, his nose to the dirt. Cross notices him as he gets closer. She wants to call out to him, but the old dog cuts her off. He says that he understands why Gin's doing this - he'd done similar rash things when he was young - but he won't be going easy on him. If the kid wants a fight, then a fight is what he'll get.

Cross is concerned about a heavyweight champ punching the shit outta a teenager so she tells the dog to fuck off with that idea. But of course he doesn't. Instead he says that if the Akita wants to die for his cause, then he will.

As Cross struggles to free herself Gin pads lackidasically into view. He calls out to Benizakura and lets the old meathead know he's here for that second hit. Cross gives up trying to loosen her chain and tells Gin to make himself scarce before his head gets lumped in.

Gin's surprised to see her and asks what she's doing here, but she just continues to tell him to get away. By it's too late. The old dog, Benizakura, has climbed onto the roof of the shed, and now he's plummeting down towards Gin. He lands inches in front of Gin. Gin boldly tells Benizakura that he wants him to join the Ohu army. Benizakura's like dude, we've had plenty of exposition for the day. He already knows what Gin's here to do.

That said, The Beast isn't going to abandon his cushy life as a bullbaiter because someone asks him nicely. If Gin wants him as an ally, he'll have to convince him. Gin says he agrees to a fight, but on one condition: if Benizakura pummels him into an early grave, he has to promise to take Gin's place in the army.

Benizakura accepts this offer without hesitation. He shows the exact same amount of hesitation when he grabs Gin by the neck and throws him like a football. This surpises Gin so much that he can't do anything but take the L.

Cross tries to escape the shack by pawing at a wall covered in loose boards, but she can't quite seem to make them break. She looks out at the two brawlers in a panic. Benizakura continues his assault on Gin by headbutting, kicking, biting, and finally throwing him into the side of the hut.

Cross doubles back from the wall as Gin smashes through it, splintered wood flying in all directions. When the dust settles Cross can see that Gin might have met his match. He's bleeding from the face and ribcage, and his eyes are rolling around without focus.

Cross commands Gin as his superior to leave immediately. Dying like a showoff isn't going to help anybody. Gin stubbornly picks himself up, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, while Benizakura looks in through the new window he just installed.

"Get back out here!" the Tosa demands. "You think you're tough? You call yourself a man while you're in there cowering behind a pregnant woman?"

Gin never received a birds and the bees talk during his younger days so it never occured to him that Cross's rapidly growing ponch was the result of her and Ben's alone time instead of her taking seconds during meals. Cross pulls away from him as if ashamed. She says she didn't tell anyone because she was worried they'd think lesser of her for being with child. None of the other chicks in Ohu's ranks have let this happen.

Feeling awkward but sympathetic, Gin tells her that she managed to get here fulla babies so clearly she's not as weak as she's worried everyone would think she is. Before he can further reassure her, though, he remembers what he's here to do.

Gin climbs out of the wall his spine obliterated and tells Benizakura that he refuses to leave until The Beast joins him. As he nears Benizakura, Cross climbs out of the wallhole and chases after him before she's clotheslined by the chain. As Cross flops around in desperate rage, Benizakura takes a moment to look at Gin's bloodied forehead.

One of several massive scars he hadn't noticed before has split open on the kid's forehead. And yet Gin's still here, still standing before a muscleman who has broken dogs' legs like toothpicks. The kid snarls in determination as his forehead blood runs into his face.

Benizakura is distracted for only a moment before snapping out of his stupor and lunging at Gin again, but that pause was all Gin needed to plan his next attack. It should be familiar to Benizakura given he invented it. Making like he's Benizakura and Benny is a bull, Gin snags the Tosa by the flabby skin of his neck and uses his massive weight against him to fling him off his center of gravity.

The two leave the Earth behind for a nanosecond before Gin slams the dog, a monster 3 times his own size, face first into the Earth. Blood gushes from Benizakura's nose as he falls into a heap.

Cross has ceased using her words and is barking like a maniac, but nobody but the three of them is listening. Benizakura wriggles on the ground as Gin looks over his shoulder at Cross. His face says "hell yeah" but then his body goes "oh no" as Benizakura rights himself and slams as hard as he can into Gin's side. The Beast pins Gin to the ground with one massive paw on his neck and the other on his rib cage. Gin squirms violently and Benizakura stands over him panting and swaying. He seems to be... smiling?

Yes indeed, the bull of a dog is smiling ear to ear. And then he begins to laugh. His laugh grows into a bellyfull of guffaws and snorts, his eyes squeezed shut in hysterics. His laugh is as coarse as the rest of his voice, but there's no malice in it. He genuinely sounds like he's heard the funniest joke of his life.

Beizakura sits back on his haunches, still laughing, and allows Gin to get up. Gin doesn't understand if this is an insult or a mental break. Cross is so confused she quits yapping. Benizakura finally stops his chortling and wipes his eyes dry of tears.

The old dog proclaims that this was great. It's been a long time since he'd felt so alive. To think he'd almost forgotten what fighting other dogs was like! He thanks Gin for the fun and says that he'd intitially thought Gin was just some punkass kid who'd grown too big for his britches. But he understands that Gin's got real dedication.

And if he's the youngest in his army's ranks - woof! The other troops must be just as amazing. So sure, he'd be happy to live out his winter years fighting alongside the Ohu dogs. Why not?

Gin's jaw falls open in a dopey looking smile of its own. He's kinda amazed that this whole thing actually worked. While he catches his breath, Benizakura pads over to Cross.

"Benizakura, thank--" she begins, but he politely cuts her off.

"So formal, you people," he says. "Just call me Zak." And with that, he uses his powerful jaws to yank the chain from Cross's collar. The thin but sturdy metal loops snap in half.

The three are just about to head out when the door of the nearby house opens. Everyone stands surprised as the boy who was with Benizakura at the ring steps out with a large bowl of dog kibble. He seems confused and asks his dog Don what's going on. He watches as the Akita and Saluki run away, and then panickedly follows when the Tosa joins them.

"Don!" the child cries out. "Where are you going? Don't leave!"

Gin notices this mildly underwhelming goodbye become a melodramatic one as the boy trips and spills the food he was carrying. Benizakura pauses and looks back for one last time. His gaze meets the boy's, and the child begins to cry tears of confusion and hurt.

Gin's own eyes glaze over as the sight fills him with a sense of familiarity. The child's desperate face reminds him so much of Daisuke's. Is this how Diasuke felt when Gin left? Was it worse given Gin took off without saying goodbye? Gin doesn't know. All he knows is that it hurts to watch the dog give the boy a solemn smile before turning away forever.

Cross lopes up beside Gin and they wait as Zak catches up to them. The boy is still calling out and blubbers desperately. Gin's wet cheeks match Zak's. The old dog isn't so proud that he hides his pain, and he simply chokes out his desire to leave. The others nod and lead him away.

Gin lags a few feet behind as his thoughts jumble with memories of Daisuke. Gin had forgotten how much he missed his boy. He'd forgotten the last time he'd felt like a dog instead of a soldier.

The dogs slow their pace. This allows them some time to share their thoughts with each other. Zak is pretty broken up about leaving his boy. He's not so steadfast in his decision to fly the coop anymore.

Gin pauses thoughtfully before sharing his own experience with the Tosa. Gin had to leave his boy behind when he joined the army too, and it was one of the toughest decisions he'd ever had to make. Even though it hurt him in a way he's never been hurt before, he did it because...

Gin pauses as his eyes well up. The other dogs wait for him to finish his thought. Gin chokes on his words as he says them, but he still manages to spit them out.

"But I had to leave him because I knew it was the only way I could keep him safe. Because if we succeed, he'll never have to face that kind of danger again."

Everyone falls silent. Cross's eyes are wide as she takes in Gin's words, and Zak's face is stony before he nudges Gin's side encouragingly.

"Okay," is all the big guy manages to say. "I understand."

But the waterworks gradually subside and Gin's focus shifts back to the mission at hand. After running for a shorter time then you'd expect, the trio meet up with the Ohu dogs in the area.

Everyone is very impressed to see The Beast in The Flesh. He's impressed by them, too, and he quickly takes on the role of everyone's surrogate grandpa by telling them stories from the good ole days and calling them variations of "whippersnapper." The strongest dog in the world easily finds comraderie among his fellow punchy people. While he worms his way into everyone's hearts, Cross meets up with Musashi, Bill, and their comrades.

This vacay has come to an end, so everyone goes to cross the sea once more. Benizakura chauvinistically offers to help Cross carry her pregnant self across the waves, but she blows a raspberry at him and jumps in before she has to answer any questions about what he old dude said regarding pregnancy.

This will be the last bit of goofing before the journey back because oh my god there's a lot to do when they get to shore. Ben has to be retrieved, John is set to lead some of this gang to find more soldiers, Moss's crew up North needs to be checked on, and, most importantly, everything must be organized before the end of the month. That's when the war will truly begin, and everyone will have to contribute.

----------

AND SO THE SERIES CONTINUES. Just two more episodes after this one, get ready for ‘em. They should both be up before the end of the month. Also keep your eyes peeled for something else, visual stuff this time, that’ll be coming shortly too.

Episode 6: The Battle

[jay-cult]

Homecoming

Aka, SJ finally makes a movie fic.

Have this little 1200 word oneshot that was inspired by my life currently! I’m in a crisis that’s for sure. Anyway, enjoy :3

Totally PG and also there’s Jaya in it as usual so heads up.

-

Homecoming

  god, I’m done for>

  <f dude

  <f

  Jay put down his phone and buried his face in his hands. He couldn’t believe it; junior year of high school had already sprung upon him like a pouncing leopard. Just yesterday he must have been a bumbling freshman, papers flying, late classes he felt like disappearing away from.

  But that was, after all, a good thing… it wasn’t exactly why he was headfirst in a problem... the biggest problem ever in his life.

  The phone face down on the bed he was sitting on buzzed. Picking it up, he stared at the notifications.

  <idk man. we can try to help

  <yea

  He sighed. Cole and Lloyd were nice to say the least. But Jay was sure that nobody he was good friends with had any experience with girls besides Kai, and well. He’d be sent to hell by the red ninja himself if Kai ever found out about his “motives.” Zane wasn’t much of an option either, since he had a hard time understanding how to talk to even close friends.

  Jay laid down fully clothed on the top of his bed, staring at the ceiling. He reached to his desk and for the hundredth time that day double checked if maybe this time, the paper seemed okay enough to give.

  Jay grabbed the paper and read it over again.

  “Hey there Nya! It’s me, your cool friend Jay :3 you’re going to the homecoming dance right? Don’t suppose you have a date? If not we should go together! Please give this back with an answer :)”

  Jay picked up a pencil from his desk and reluctantly erased together. It made it sound a lot cheesier than he had intended.

  He still decided it wasn’t good enough, and smacked it back onto his desk.

  ill see what i can do tomorrow. after that ill need a FULL advice session>

  He looked at the clock. 10:30 pm often marked the time for a sleep attempt before a school day began. Maybe he could get away from this nightmare for a few hours.

 -

  Jay downed the last few sips of his coffee and bolted out the front door. If he didn’t leave now, traffic would envelop him like a swarm of wasps. His backpack bounced on his back as he ran to his bike, his scarf flying in the wind.

  “Have a nice day at school honey!” He heard a shout from the door.

  “I-I will, Mom!”

  He climbed onto his bike at lightning speed. Multiple times in the past he had asked his mom why he wasn’t driven to school or took the bus; every time the answer was “You need your exercise to grow up big and strong!” He thought about the computer sitting on his desk that held a much-procrastinated driving course as he sped out of the driveway and into the fray of the road, helmetless.

  Minutes later he pulled his bike into the rack, panting. He was early enough to calm down. Jay wearily like so many repeated times before walked up the steps into the school building, going through the assignments that were due in his head for the fourth time that morning.

  The school was in its one-week-before-a-dance state. Naturally, it was full of idiots, chatterboxes, and nervous wrecks that were even more active than during finals. He walked down the halls into his first class.

  He looked down one hall and saw a sophomore boy in glasses strumming a guitar and looking up at a brown-haired girl, singing a home-posal. “You’re tall and white and pretty, you’re really really skinny…” he sang.

  Yeesh, I don’t even wanna know what’s going on over there, Jay thought.

  Classes went by in the slowest fashion ever. He saw a friend in them here and there. Finally, the lunch bell gave its holy ring, and he slung his backpack over his shoulder and drowsily snuck out of class.

  He saw Kai and Nya casually hanging out together in a corner, probably waiting to meet up with their other friends. Before he knew it, his body was turning in their direction, going Mission: executed mode.

  “Hhey, you guys!” He smiled nervously, beginning to shake a bit. Nya raised a hand and smiled. Kai looked at him with what was probably pity.

  Nya was typing away at her phone. Jay wasn’t sure what for.

  “So it’s just wild that we’re juniors now, huh?” What am I doing?!

  Kai nodded. Nya looked up. “Yeah, that’s so crazy! It doesn’t feel like it at all.”

  Her eyes gave him a warm welcome before darting back to her phone again. It made him shake a little more.

  “Yeah, and th-the dance is coming up and all and…. I dunno… we’re so old now, I think yknow, it’s time for me at least to make the most of it. I-I kinda want a date, haha! Just because we’re older and all and I don’t wanna waste the dances. And all.”

  Nya stayed in silence, an uninterpretable silence.

  Uh oh. ABORT MISSION. ABORT.

  Kai looked up at Jay with a look that definitely spelled disappointment. “Like the homecoming dance?”

  Jay stared down at his own feet. “Uh, yeah.”

  That’s it, I’m outta here.

  “I’ve got a teacher I have to practice work with,” he lied. He waved goodbye and walked away a little too quickly.

  Not saying he hid in the bathroom for the rest of lunch, but he totally hid in the bathroom for the rest of lunch.

  The rest of the day was even slower, and as Jay finally slid off his bike like jelly and unlocked the front door to his house, he was mumbling to himself, “Yeah, that’s it, I give up, not like she even would say yes anyway, it’s better to just leave the situation alone.”

  The door creaked open and Jay was suddenly looking into the faces of four disappointed teenagers. Even Zane was peeking out the doorway with an obviously sad face. Jay looked up and was staring into the eyes of the tiger on the face of the lion. Kai.

  Run.

  Jay whipped around and started bolting across the street without giving a second thought to look for cars, but a robotic arm extended and grabbed him by the back of his shirt. It pulled him in swiftly, and the door slammed behind him. Jay was released and fell flat on the floor, his keys sliding across the wood.

  He sat up, rubbing his head and staring again at Kai. “...It’s not what it looks like?”

  “It’s exactly what it looks like,” Kai sighed, his palm on his forehead.

  Zane smiled and took up a chipper voice. “Dude. That was just sad!”

  “The face doesn’t really help, Zane,” Jay said.

  Cole and Lloyd looked at each other somewhat guiltily. “It’s ok Jay!” Lloyd smiled reassuringly. “Plus it wasn’t even my idea so haha don’t be mad at me! Ow!”

  Cole had smacked him on the back, signifying he should get silent.

  “You have a lot to learn about my sister,” Kai looked at Jay. He reached out a hand to the blue lump on the floor and smiled.

[darkpoisonouslove]

3-7, 13, 16-17, 21, 25-26, 28, 30-32, 36, and 41. (If you're still doing ask thing.)

I’m doing it! Wow, you sent a lot of numbers. Okay XD. Let’s see.

3. if you were any historic trope, what would you be? (i.e., the knight, the town baker, the witch of the forest, etd.)

Totally witch of the forest but if you can also mix writing into that.

4. tell us about your ideal battle outfit.

A body suit that covers everything and is made of very strong materials so that it won’t tear and will protect me from injuries (idk why the hell I would even need a battle outfit, I am not the type of person that goes well with battles). Also, def a headpiece to protect me from head injuries and keep my hair where an opponent can’t grab it and drag me by it.

5. what would you be a god/goddess of and what would people sacrifice to you?

I would be the goddess of forgiveness and people would have to sacrifice their anger and desire for vengeance to me because that’s the only way to forgive and heal.

6. name five iconic quotes that make you feel things.

Time to go through the quote tag, I see. It’s a good thing I’ve been collecting all those quotes. So idk what qualifies as iconic, but here you go - five quotes that make me feel things:

“I am somebody. I am me. I like being me. And I need nobody to make me somebody.” - Louis L’Amour

“Maybe it’s because I take everything as a lesson, or because I don’t want to walk around angry… or maybe it’s because I finally understand.” (I haven’t written down where this is from (pretty sure it was some TV show that I definitely HAVEN’T watched) but it does make me feel a lot of things)

“Love the animals, love the plants, love everything. If you love everything, you will perceive the divine mystery in things. Once you perceive it, you will begin to comprehend it better every day. And you will come at last to love the whole world with an all-embracing love.” - Fyodor Dostoyevsky

“When the whole world is running towards a cliff, he who is running in the opposite direction appears to have lost his mind.” - C. S. Lewis

“Hurt people hurt people. That’s how pain patterns get passed on, generation after generation after generation. Break the chain today. Meet anger with sympathy, contempt with compassion, cruelty with kindness. Greet grimaces with smiles. Forgive and forget about finding fault. Love is the weapon of the future.” - Yehuda Berg

And a little bonus because I had this one in mind ever since the beginning but I got five before I managed to find it:

“She took a step and didn’t want to take any more, but she did.” - Markus Zusak

This really needs a cut:

7. scythe, battle axe, broad sword, spear or trident?

Scythes are cool, but I’m not sure how functional they are. I definitely do not get the trident as a weapon, and spears are not good weapons imo if they’re the only thing you have going into battle. Axes look cool but are a little bit brutal for my taste, I think (though, you’ll be killing people with all the weapons - it’s why they’re weapons!). I think I’d pick a broadsword. That would suit me best.

13. cabin in the woods, apartment in the city or mansion in the suburbs?

I’m a bit torn between cabin in the woods and a mansion in the suburbs. I think I would take a mansion on the very edge of town where there are as few people as possible.

16. describe your ideal fantasy outfit

I really love the look of Regina Mills’ outfits (from OUAT) because she has the dress aesthetic but the skirt is open at the front and she wears pants underneath so that she can ride horses and, generally, be more mobile than a normal gown would allow you to be. I imagine her outfits are also a lot lighter than typical gowns were throughout history. Idk, I really like how that looks. Also, I would love some floaty veils - they look so magical and dreamy.

17. of all the fantasy races to ever exist, which one would you be?

A mermaid. God, what I wouldn’t give to be able to breathe underwater and swim with the sea creatures.

21. an evening in the forest with elves, a night in the caves with vampires or a morning in the garden with fae?

I think I’ll take the evening in the forest with elves. Though the vampires also sound kinda tempting tbh.

25. favorite childhood story? (doesn’t have to be a fairy tale)

It is a fairytale and I do know how it was called but no idea how that will be in English. Anyway, the story was about a king with three sons who sends them on a quest to bring the most beautiful puppy they can find. They have one year to do that. The brothers set out on a journey together but reach an agreement to separate at the inn they’re staying in and meet back there when the year is up. From there on we follow the youngest son who gets robbed and lost and stumbles into a castle in the woods. The door opens but he can see no one. Only floating wooden (I think?) hands that lead him through the castle. Once he’s settled in, they lead him to the owner of the castle who turns out to be a white talking cat. For the next year he stays there and the two of them have all sorts of fun along with all the other cats that live there. At the end of the year, the cat reminds him that he needs to return to his father, and he gets mad at himself because he wasted the whole year and didn’t find a puppy. She gives him a walnut and tells him only to crack it open when he gets back to his father’s palace. He meets with his brothers at the inn and sees what beautiful dogs they’ve found. Meanwhile, he’s brought a dirty mutt that his brothers mock him about. When they go to their father, though, he cracks the walnut open and from inside shows up the smallest puppy that also dances. The king is impressed but decides to give them another task. He tells them to find the finest fabric that can go through the eye of a needle for which they have a year again. The youngest prince returns to the castle of the white cat and spends the next year with her again. Then she gives him… some sort of other nut (I don’t remember what it was anymore) and sends him back to his father. When he gets there, he cracks the nut, but inside there is another nut. And another. And another. Until finally there is an entire piece of fabric in the last one that actually does go through the eye of a needle. Everyone is absolutely shooketh, but the king gives them one final task. He tells them that they need to find wives in the next year and come back to him so that he can decide who will inherit the kingdom. The youngest brother returns to the white cat again and spends that year with her as well. On the last day of his stay she tells him that at midnight he has to cut off her head and her tail and throw them into the fireplace. He starts crying because he loves her and can’t do that but she tells him to trust her and do it. He does and she transforms into a woman. She is the princess of the castle but she and her whole retinue were cursed to become cats (I don’t remember why anymore, the backstory escapes me). He takes her to his father who pronounces him the next king but the cat-turned-woman-again says that she has a kingdom of her own and so they leave the kingdom to his brothers.

Wow, I can’t believe how much I remember from that fairytale. There must have been at least ten years since I’d last read it. Anyway, yeah, I adored that tale and my grandparents and parents weren’t happy about it because it was the second longest fairytale in all the books we had and I made them read it to me all the time. It was my absolute favorite. Damn, i wanna go search for the book and read it now!

26. tell us about an experience you’ve had that seemed unreal or supernatural. (doesn’t have to be scary)

A few weeks ago I saw a cat that had these eyes that immediately let me know that that cat could understand absolutely every word I would say to it. I do think that animals in general understand us but in a reading-our-emotional-state kind of way. Not in a I-totally-get-all-the-words-you’re-saying kind of way. But I’m pretty sure that was exactly what was going on with that cat. It was kinda weird, but not a bad weird.

28. tell us three sayings that you live by.

Ah, goddammit! There are a lot of Bulgarian sayings that fit my views on life but they’re not exactly translatable, y’know?

Treat people the way you want to be treated is one principle that I *try* to follow.

Forgive but don’t forget is another principle that I believe in (I know the original is forgive and forget but I don’t believe in that. And also, remember all those things I remember from that fairytale I haven’t read in years? You think I know how to forget things? I’m a lot better with forgiving, tho, I promise.)

Everyone deserves love is a hill that I will die on tbh. I know it sounds corny, but love is the one thing that can save people and I firmly believe in that.

Not exactly sayings, but close enough for me (hopefully for you, too.)

30. describe your ideal masquerade ball outfit (mask included).

Ehh, I have no idea. It’s gotta be purple and black, tho.

31. splashing around in a river with mermaids or flying through the sky with harpies?

Definitely splashing in a river with mermaids. God, I love mermaids.

32. what would you end up in the dungeon for?

Voicing my opinion. I have literally zero respect for authority. If you’re wrong, you’re wrong and you’d better believe I WILL call you out on it. I don’t care if you’re god or whatever.

36. would you rather be a pirate or a king/queen?

Eh, I don’t know. I really don’t want to be a queen. That’s too much responsibility that I could handle, but I really don’t want to. Can I write if I’m a pirate? If yes, then that’s settled.

41. stained glass windows or fairy lights?

This became long. I’m sorry if some answers are a bit sparse. I just really didn’t know what to do with some of the questions. 😅

[wordsturnintostories]

we're pack, moonchild.

Masterlist

Seokjin | Yoongi | Hoseok | Namjoon | Jimin | Taehyung | Jungkook

Summary: You know Min Yoongi is a werewolf. He has to be. [a drabble in which you go to the same school with the Bangtan gang and are tiring to figure out if that's what they really are. a gang? or a pack?] Word Count: +1,7k  Note: Yoongi. I love writing Yoongi. Makes me feel focused and introspective. This one has such a long "wolf part". idk why, Yoongi is special somehow. ✨

Gif not mine, credits to the owner.

You know Min Yoongi is a werewolf. He has to be. If he isn’t, this entire concept you’ve created about your school’s society (or more precisely, the Bangtan gang) is for the trashcan. Oh, and the faith in your own ability to judge. It’s not that there’s evidence stacking up against the quiet senior student, not officially at least, because not one teacher complains about him. Actually, it’s quite the opposite. They favor him. Maybe that’s due to the fact that Min Yoongi doesn’t disrupt the class with incessant and unnecessary chatter. To be honest, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Min Yoongi “chat” in a vivid manner. Of course, in the presence of Jimin, but Jimin is an exception, with that magical ability (and laugh) to coax words out of people, but that’s always inside the safe confines of the Bangtan gang.

GBut even if you’re not sure about Kim Namjoon or the other boys within the gang, you’re sure about Min Yoongi. Living in the same neighborhood as you, just a few streets over, there’s been incidents you’ve heard of. Incidents as ominous as the word incident itself. As a child, there have been numerous times you’ve witnessed a growl, a baring of teeth, long canine teeth at that. Back then, it hadn’t mattered, you were a child with enough fantasy to spin some wild story out of this, but looking back you realize things for what they really were. Teenage years had brought new issues not only to you but also to him, as it seemed. People rumored about massacred bunnies and chickens, whispered about a hunter’s mysterious experiences one night in the local woods. Those weren't stories you would tie to the pale, stay-inside type of boy back then. Now, you’ve seen him run (even though it doesn't happen often, and if it does, he's probably going after a cheeky Taehyung), you've even seen him almost break a particularly nasty kid from his grade in half - hadn’t Jimin and Hoseok been there to stop him.

Even in school, the lazy attitude of Min Yoongi just hides the reality of a wolf shimmering underneath that milky skin. Or maybe it’s exactly the laziness that lets the wolf attributes show through. You’re not sure. You’re not even sure if others see it too. However, you spot the animal behind those eyes. In a blink, it tells a story about a burning rage that almost eats the boy up from the inside. In another, it shows you how gratefulness spreads through him as the younger gang members plus Seokjin gather around Yoongi (and as Jimin brazenly plops into his lap with a giggle). And whatever the rest of the school rumors and believes, you know the truth. You've seen the facts. (Additionally, you have witnessed an ab slip and there’s no one on this earth who can tell you 

But despite knowing this truth, your relationship with him happens from a distance. It’s quite different than with Jimin or Taehyung, or even Jungkook. From a distance you observe and from a distance, you draw conclusions. And while your friends babble about this or that, you take notice of how on some days, Yoongi’s head turns towards every sound, just very very slightly, but visibly if you pay a lot of attention. And then he groans, which in turn attracts Jimin’s attention, who puts his small gentle hands on the elder’s face and ears. Obviously, there’s some complaining involved when Yoongi grumbles, but it’s clear that the wolf is irritated by the hectic bustling of the students, by the enormity of the sound landscape inside the cafeteria. To prove your assumption that he must be a werewolf, Yoongi does bare his teeth a little but then his eyes rise, meeting yours and you quickly look away, heart pounding. Your friends don’t notice. You hope Yoongi doesn’t know what you’re doing.

Even though the Bangtan gang is rarely ever doing anything gang-like, you see how Min Yoongi could be genuinely scary. Not to you, not scary at least, because you’ve walked past (and stopped) the young man sitting in front of a white piano in the music rooms during breaks. His hands know chords that make you cry. But out of all the Bangtan boys, the rumors about gang fights and violence kind of fit best with his cool outward attitude. He’s a fighter, no doubt, always ready to defend the young ones under his wings. Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook seem to know it well, and still, annoying the elder is one of the first things that comes to their minds. Considering he wouldn’t mess up a hair on their heads - because he hasn’t - you figure that behind that scowling mask, there must be a sweet person.

There’s only one time you think he might come for you and your stupid nosiness and that’s when you’re standing by the school’s vending machine, watching him under the pretense of waiting for a friend. Since the morning bell, Yoongi has acted strange, not that anyone around you has really noticed. Yoongi has been hanging out with Namjoon instead of Hoseok and gripping Jimin’s hand tightly with a newfound record-worthy clinginess. At one point, Jimin shrieks and pulls away with shock in his eyes. There’s a drop of blood running over his hand that’s visible for a second before they cover it up. Still, you see it. It’s highly suspicious and worth a note in your Bangtan-related research.

Before you can even build theories and collect your previous assumptions to come up with a good explanation, Yoongi is gone. It’s a blink but Yoongi’s gone. And Namjoon and Jimin look more than worried. When your friend grabs her drink and talks to someone next to you, you can’t focus. So, when they leave, you stay. To wait and see what will happen next. What Namjoon and Jimin will do. And boy, does something happen next. It takes a breath to be pressed into the wall behind you, another to realize this is Yoongi with his forehead against yours. It’s all so sudden, such a pee-in-your-pants-moment that you can’t help but gasp, but let your heart pound and pound. Yoongi’s hands just grab your shoulders, and then there’s something he mumbles before leaving. You don’t understand it at first, but it comes back to you in a dream.

“The moon, pup. Next moon.”

It doesn’t make sense at all, just like this encounter that essentially has you be scared more in retrospective than it did in the present. Whatever issue Yoongi had that day, you hope he got it figured out. When you ask Jimin in a note, he draws a valerian flower and says, “Don’t worry about hyung. I hope he didn’t scare you. He's really embarrassed too.”

After that, your eyes meet Yoongi’s a couple of times in hallways and through the fence at the basketball court, but there’s never an indication that he wants to talk to you. He’s occupied with the younger ones and you’re occupied studying them.

As a wolf, Yoongi approaches you directly. He comes after Taehyung leaves and doesn’t waste a second before his snout travels over different parts of your body. Maybe it’s about safety, maybe it’s curiosity, but Yoongi is thorough. When he is done, there’s a second of eye contact, a nod from him, a lick at Namjoon’s muzzle, a lick at your mouth (a promise of protection), and then Yoongi leaves.

His presence is nice, a presence of safety and a thrumming of saved up strength. You learn later that he’s the packs’ primary speed dial contact.

When the pack welcomes you in their midst as the Alpha’s companion, it’s Yoongi who guides you through the process side by side with Jimin. It’s Yoongi who stays by yours as the younger wolves play in the dark. It’s Yoongi who licks Jimin clean after the younger one returns and presses him delicate body into the elders’. It’s Yoongi who ushers the other wolves together, who is granted the first howl to announce the Alpha.

The second Yoongi’s jaws close around your wrist for the pack bite, a blurriness creeps into your vision. The white wolf’s mouth is hot around your arm but all you can focus on are the movements in front of your eyes. You make the mistake of looking straight into Yoongi’s eyes. His intense gaze draws you in completely. It’s like looking into a laundry machine through the glass door. As everything gains momentum, colors, textures, even fabrics melt into each other.

The same kind of storm rages in Yoongi’s eyes. It spits out films worth of images that seem to be memories from Yoongi’s point of view - a heaving scene with puffs of winter breath in front of your eyes, a dead deer bleeding away under your nose, the warm and iron-y smell of blood dancing around you while the animal’s heart slows audibly, then trees that pass, nights of warmth, nights of icy cold darkness, finally other wolves, a pack, a boy - Jungkook - who goes through the first shift with tears of unimaginable pain, a young wolf who runs in freedom for the first time, who pants against Jimin’s flank later. It’s all there, you see it all through Yoongi’s eyes, how the family grows, how he secures the borders.

And then you realize. Yoongi is a beta. The Pack’s protector, the first-rank warrior.

And with the fall of a shooting star, there’s a rising of new wonder inside of you. It comes with the realization that Yoongi was born this way, alone for such a long time, alone with that burning rage you’d seen a couple times. Uncontrollable it had been, but with a pack of seven, the intensity of that loneliness and pain divides into seven parts, leaving behind a tiny burden to carry.

When you finally look up from where you had fallen to your knees as Yoongi's visions overwhelmed you, you find his soft gaze. He's a precious friend, loyal to the end, worthy of keeping. His cheek feels warm next to yours, his tongue like a welcoming kiss on your neck. “I’m looking forward to teaching you everything, pup,” he says.

Thanks for reading! :)

Masterlist | moodboard masterlist

taglist: @xmagicxshopx, @jiminnies-baby, @inappropriatepirate, @dope-boss

Seokjin | Yoongi | Hoseok | Namjoon | Jimin | Taehyung | Jungkook

[kittae]

Nocturne (M)

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Words: 9.2k

Genre: Smut, a dash of greek mythology, fantasy, male nymph!Yoongi

Warnings: Graphic sexual descriptions, magical intoxication, virgin!reader, unrealistic depictions of sex inside water

summary: The world, human as well as divine, would rather forget about a shocking scandal that occurred amongst the gods, and so they also forgot about the beautiful, but cursed creature that had been conceived through said event. This caused him to live a solitary life, one where the gentle breeze through the leaves, the chirping birds in the trees, the koi in the springs and the fireflies in the night established the only form of companionship. And then, he felt your eyes on him

A/N: FUCKING FINALLY! this fic has been long overdue, as i have been tweaking and rewriting this since last year! I’m very happy i can finally share this with you guys. Since this is a different approach, some experimenting with my writing style, i hope it doesn’t disappoint and that you can still enjoy it! 

special thanks to @vankoya and @tayegi for reading it over and giving me advice! @trbld-writer , @thules , @sydist ( stella idk if you’re still active on tumblr rip :( ) i’m sad the collab from which this fic originated never happened, but i’m dedicating this one to you guys! 

MASTERLIST

You never knew air could hurt until the moment it burned through your lungs as you sprinted as fast as your feet could carry you and then some. You ignored the burning acid rising up your throat and stomach, the twigs smacking into your face and the thorns scratching at your legs, rushing to just run empty-headed with no sense of direction or where you wanted to go, as long as it was away. To say you were lost was an understatement.

What else did you expect, dashing barefoot through the night and into the woods with the moon and the stars as your only guide and light source. Every few minutes, you could hear wolves howl in the distance, your nightgown sticking to your damp skin when you broke out in a cold sweat on top of the hot one induced by the long run. It sounded like they weren’t too far off, and you started to wonder if you’d really chosen the right option out of the two you were presented with.

Burned alive at the stake or ripped to shreds by a pack of wolves?

You’d never believed in the tales and legends of your town. They were often even more ridiculous and fantastic than the fairytales you'd grown up with. Yet, it could’ve been one of the reasons why they accused you of witchcraft. That, and the fact you knew your way around healing potions and herbs. When you had managed to cure a child who was on the verge of dying from a severe illness not even the best doctors knew what to do with, you had gotten the label practically slammed onto your forehead. But you know what they say; no good deed goes unpunished.

They came for you in the night, forcefully breaking down the door of your humble house with the intention of making their way to your chambers to capture you. To make you their prisoner and most probably torture you all night to force you to answer questions you didn’t know the answers to. However, you were always one step ahead. The barricade in front of your door didn’t serve to keep them out as much as it did to buy you some time. Time to climb out of your window and escape from the back. Time to bolt towards the only place you knew they would never follow you.

The haunted forest.

The people loved to pass on tales, tell the stories their parents had told them whose parents before them had shared with them, and so on. Legend has it that this forest was structured like a labyrinth and harbored an ancient soul. One that somehow ensured anyone who ever dared to enter the forest never came back out. No, people didn’t come here. They haven’t for centuries, until you. Then again, you weren’t one to believe in old wives’ tales, especially not those told by the same mouths that accused you of witchcraft.

The forest appeared harmless enough aside from the usual threats of wild animals and losing path. There was no sign of the air bearing the suffocating pressure the townspeople often spoke of, nor was your vision clouded with thick fog rising from the dirt. None of the horrors you’ve been told were present in these particular woods and this only motivated you to rush deeper into them.

When the flickering yellow lights and loud, threatening shouts of the torch-bearing crowd seemed to have died out behind you, you knew they went no further when you did.

All sounds had turned to silence aside from your panting breaths in the air and the dull sound of your feet hitting the soft soil, and finally, you deemed it safe enough to catch a breath.

Another spine-chilling howl pierced through your nerves, and even though your feet were sore and chapped, twigs and stones occasionally digging into the bare soles, you found yourself striding the opposite way of the sound that made your skin crawl. The more distant it became, the more you found yourself relaxing, the pace of your restless steps turning languid as the realization you'd probably escaped death twice tonight started to kick in. You felt exhausted, if not from the long run then surely caused by the whirlwind of emotions you got put through in the last couple of hours, the adrenaline rush finally dropping and leaving your body to be completely spent. You wanted to lay down so badly, sleep for a bit and recover your strength, and when the woeful cries of the canines had come to fall completely silent, the thought started to feel all the more tempting.

The moon stood tall and bright, its beauty seemingly only reaching your eyes now you were no longer focused on surviving the night. With its perfectly round shape and white glow, you were almost tempted to believe in this thing called magic, this thing your fellow villagers prosecuted you for.

As on cue, a small swarm of fireflies emerged from between the flowerbed a few feet further, emitting a comforting and warm, yellow glow that lit up your path like little stars. Slowly treading through the field of blooming bluebells, a hundred more tiny lights appeared in the air and surrounded you. You must've disturbed them by stepping through the flowers, but what a sight it was! What tragedy it must've been if the villagers got to you and you'd never have witnessed this indescribable beauty. And just when you'd convinced yourself this had to be the most breathtaking phenomenon you'd ever behold, you heard it.

Suddenly accompanying the nocturnal silence came a mesmerizing melody, humming from the distance and weaving through the forest to reach you. Those tones of allure and love incarnated were spellbinding; composed to fog the minds and feast on the hearts that listened to them. The little flying lights seemed to change formation, forming a long luminescent ribbon as they followed the sound. Afraid to lose your tiny stars and incredibly drawn to the foreign song in the distance, your feet were moving before you could think about where they were going. The music filled your head until there was nothing else left, your heart swollen and bursting with an inexplicable desire, throbbing with a yearning unknown to you. You felt what could be described as entranced, thoughts about how strange and suspicious it was to hear such soft and lovely melodies in the middle of the night, so deep into the forest, not once crossing your mind. You could only take in the swaying notes, leisurely being carried by the midsummer breeze, hushing you and convincing you not to question why they were there in the first place.

Your little lights unexpectedly came to a stop, where they left their ribbon formation to spread themselves out and float over a small spring a little further down. The sound of a gasp falling from your lips got interrupted by your breath getting caught in your throat first, your hand promptly covering your mouth when your eyes grew the size of the moon above you. There, waist deep and naked in the spring, was a man so beautiful you finally started to wonder whether this had all been just a very vivid dream. Hiding behind the nearest tree you could find that was broad enough to conceal your shaking body, you leaned against the stem to steady yourself as your knees turned weak and trembled in shock, trying to calm your hammering heart that threatened to break through its cage.

Still, you couldn't seem to tear your gaze away, even when the sight before you pained you so mercilessly you thought you'd collapse. Never in your life have you witnessed such sublime beauty before, such majesty exuding from a person as if he might as well be a fata morgana.

The silver beam of the moon paid him absolute tribute, his slender muscles and tightening tendons a kind of delicate strength rippling underneath a coat of untouched, unsullied ivory as if he was bathing in the white splendor of the moon instead of the dark waters of the lotus lavished spring it was reflected in. His hair matched the shade of onyx the night carried and the contrast with his skin was that of the one between the sky and the moon.

Although you were facing his back, you felt like you were being watched. Being watched as you were watching him while he continued to scoop up palms of shimmering moonlight, the droplets making his pearl pale skin illuminate an almost blinding brightness in seemingly utter ignorance of your mere presence.

The soft clattering of the small waterfall into the spring continued as undisturbed as ever, as if your heart hadn’t just plummeted to your stomach, your body stiffening up entirely at a foreign voice calling out to you.

“Would you have yourself standing there behind that tree and spy on me for the rest of the night or will you at least show yourself?”

The voice sounded lovely like the melodies that brought you here, soft and clear and more than slightly enthralling, in contrast to the words that made your blood run cold. Screwing your eyes shut, several bated breaths passed for you to register the question, and another five to remember that you were being expected to answer it. He’d seen you. The tension was thick in the air as you felt his eyes on you the same way you’d been scrutinizing him only moments ago, even through the with thick bark covered stem that concealed your shaking form. You felt like you couldn’t move at all, even if you wanted to. Your heart went frantic inside your chest, almost painfully so while you stayed put behind the tree that was the only thing that currently prevented your legs from giving out underneath you. You had to stay there, pretend he couldn’t see you, call bluff.

“Are you afraid?” the same soft and tender voice asked again, speaking directly to your hammering heart and tempting it to give in, “I promise, i bear no intent of hurting you.”

You drank those words in like sweet nectar, letting them sink into your soul to stir longing and curiosity there, swaying your screaming instincts telling you run once more that night to make place for a more comfortable feeling. How could such magnificent beauty, in any way, be something bad?

“Let me lay eyes upon you, too.”

The warm honey of his voice trickled down your chest with every word, clearing the last of your doubts. While words still could not find their way to your throat, your feet dared to take a single step away from your vegetal hideaway, revealing the white of your dress and the colour of your hair to this perfect stranger. Not so much fear, but rather bashfulness held you back from approaching the delicate beauty of this raven haired vision. Silly old you, in your ripped and dirtied nightgown, hair tousled and tangled and still bathing in sweat. Were you allowed to present yourself like this in front of such a stunning man?

He did not ask a second time, disregarding the fact he never asked in the first place. Instead, he carried on creating embellished melodies identical to those that led you here, soft hums on pink lips like the morning dew on a blushing rose. They tugged at your heartstrings and beckoned you closer. Your little firefly friends appeared as if they were dancing, no longer only hovering over the surface but swaying back and forth on the notes as they surrounded the pale male. Their yellow light threw a soft and subtle warmth on the cold hues of his skin, making the sight all the more alluring.

Again, your feet moved on their own accord, even if you were already planning on telling them to do exactly that. The moss underneath your bare soles felt soft and cool, soothing the stinging scratches the twigs and brambles inflicted on your skin as you were running earlier. Excitement stirred inside your stomach the closer you came to the white lotuses in the spring, and most importantly in the middle, the fairest of them all. A pleasant haze resided inside your head, buzzing only with a lingering desire to listen more closely, to see more vividly.

Sooner than expected, your toes had reached the edge of the spring, only needing to dip down a few inches to feel the wetness of the clear water. You didn’t realize how you were just standing there, mesmerized as you never let your eyes wander away from the bathing man in front of you. If you’d thought he was enchanting from afar, you needed to reevaluate your standards because up close like this, his ethereal face and glistening, naked torso only a mere few feet away from where you were standing, you were scrambling for the right words to describe him.

“Hello, sweet maiden.” The raven beauty finally faced you as he spoke, creating gentle ripples in the water as it carried his body effortlessly when he came even closer, looking up at where you stood at the waterside. “Will you tell me your name?”

With his head slightly tilted to the side, he waited for you to answer him once again, sparks of curiosity gleaming in his dark eyes but you did not want to speak, you only wished to listen. To hear him speak and sing, oh how you longed for the sound of his voice the moment the last word has left his rosy lips in a question. To all the gods in the heavens, the stars in the skies, you wished he would soon speak again. You’d been so focused on his voice, you momentarily forgot about the words it had formed and when you did remember, you realized you could make your wish come true by giving him what he asked for.

“My name…” You spoke for the first time in a long while that night, a night that seemed to have lasted two lifetimes by now. “My name is ____.”

Your throat was dry and your lips were dryer, your tongue coming out for just a second in a reflex to wet them. Your voice was slightly hoarse from both the physical and mental exhaustion you’d been put through and you winced at the sound. It was in stark contrast with the honeyed tones you’d been clinging to since the moment you’d heard him sing them.

“___.” He repeated, his eyes following the movement of the flash of pink darting out between your lips and his gaze lingering there long after. Your name felt foreign when formed with his lips, like something that sounded so beautiful could never belong to you. He seemed to like the weight of it on his tongue, if the small movement of a single corner of his mouth curling up was anything to go by.

You nodded slowly, your own gaze fixed on either his rosebud lips or his dark eyes on yours. You couldn’t quite decide.

“Will you join me, ___?” The perfect stranger, feeling more familiar with every word he spoke, proposed as he let his hands wade through the water in an invitation. “The water feels very pleasant.”

You seemed to be unable of doing anything else than dumbly nodding your head at everything he says, but your mind went truly blank in beholding such a sight, the fizz of inexplicable desire ever present. In that moment, nothing else but this man existed for you. It was more than just simple infatuation as you knew you would give your life to be with him, without hesitation.

You were about to plunge into the pool, nightgown and all, when your ears registered a series of disapproving clicks coming from the tongue of the radiant man in front of you. The skin between your eyebrows creasing slightly, you silently wondered what your mistake was.

“Bathing is not done while still wearing garments, now is it, sweet ___?” He answered your unspoken question without intent of getting response to his own, his dark gaze critically gliding over the dress concealing your curves and contrasting with the suggestive twist on his lips. There was no maliciousness to be detected in those slightly scolding words, spoken so gently you could have taken them as the caressing words of a lover.

Heat flushed underneath your cheeks, your eyes briefly cast at the ground for the first time within his proximity. Nevertheless, your hands eagerly moved to your shoulders, fingers hooking around the hem to let the gown slide down your hips until it was a pile of white fabric, bundled around your feet. Unexpectedly, you no longer felt shame underneath the scrutiny of his eyes when you stepped out of the discarded dress, your bare body for him to examine and approve or disapprove of.

“Slowly now.” He murmured as your pointed toes made the first transition from dry land to wet water, the rest of your leg following as he silently but thoroughly took in every inch of your skin, every little freckle and blemish there was to observe.

He waited until you had fully entered the pool, the bottom half of your body underneath the surface but still very much visible albeit a little distorted through the clarity of the water. Your breasts were only half immersed, nipples steadily growing harder underneath the cool temperature while the swell of your bosom peaked slightly above the surface.

For a few moments longer, the dark-haired beauty let his gaze linger there before slowly making its way up to your face, his eyes boring deeply into yours as he whispered, “Exquisite.”

A million wings appeared to flutter inside your chest and stomach, butterflies and hummingbirds, upon hearing that single word meant only for you. You couldn’t keep a dazzling smile from curling around your lips, your heart about to burst out of its cage in pure euphoria, especially when he graced you with a smile of his own. It wasn’t as wide or as exuberant as yours but it was all the more blinding, lighting up the darkness of the night as it still mirrored the same wantonness. You so wanted to please this man.

“This night has caused you much distress, has it not?” He hummed with a hint of compassion in his voice as he brought up his hand to let his fingers lightly brush over your temple and you did not question how he knew. “Allow me.”

One large and elegant hand curled into the curve of your waist, gently pulling you closer to him, while the other formed a cup with tightly enclosed and slender fingers to scoop up the spring water much like you’d seen him do before. He brought it to your naked shoulders to wet them as well, emptying it onto your skin before smoothing the water over with the palm of his hand to wash off the dirt.

“How does that feel?” He asked when he felt your muscles tighten only slightly with every touch of his hand.

“Truly refreshing.” You sighed in contentment, your body relaxing when it got used to the cold water. All the stress your nerves had endured that night slowly dissipating and making place for a strange kind of excitement that had started stirring in the pit of your belly.

A satisfied, but soft snicker tumbled from his lips. “I apologize if my hands are a bit on the cold side.”

“They say that if your hands are cold, it means your heart is warm…” you mused softly, as if you weren’t aware you were speaking your thoughts aloud. Suddenly, you’d become so much more comfortable around his bewitching persona.

“Is that what they say?” He hummed, amused, smoothing down your hair as he sweeped it to the side, baring your neck and all the while not taking his eyes off yours.

“I don’t know...I might have just plucked thoughts from my mind.” You boldly stated, feeling less like strangers the more he touched you, the more you spoke. You wished you could touch him, too.

You were hesitant, however, since you had never touched a man while bearing such impure intentions, such sinful thoughts in mind. Never have you been touched this way in your life, either. It awakened a craving inside, one that felt very strange to you. Exciting, yes. But strange. The unfamiliarity of it kept you from acting on your desires...

“You must be thirsty, are you not?” he pulled you out of your pondering thoughts as he plucked a half-open lotus from its leaf to fill it with fresh spring water, holding it in front of your parted lips. “Drink.”

Your own fingers gently closed around his slender ones cupping the flower, the petals soft and cool against the flesh of your lips as you let the liquid flow onto your tongue and against the dry walls of your throat. It tasted sweet on your tastebuds, too sweet for what you’d expected to be just plain spring water. You’d never had anything like it before. There were hints of honey and nectar, a floral delight you could not get enough of so you drank eagerly until the flower was once again empty.

When the last drop graced your tongue with its exquisite taste, leisurely trickling down your throat, your chest suddenly felt light as a feather. It glowed hot with a golden warmth, like the sun had liquified and you’d swallowed all of its light. You felt what could only be described as unadulterated euphoria, all doubts and fear that might have been lingering up until now evaporating as you looked at the perfect face in front of you. You noticed a dark strand atop his midnight shining hair, curling up as playfully as the corner of his mouth and this time, you did not hesitate to reach out and briefly touch it, gently twirling it around your finger.

He did not mind you playing with his obsidian locks and resumed his ministrations as before. His lean fingers lingered longer than necessary on less innocent parts of your body as he continued to bathe you. Cool hands wandered from your shoulders to your arms, from your arms to your waist, down your waist to your hips until his arms were wrapped around you like vines around a tree. A certain line had been crossed between the both of you without you even realizing it, but when your chests as well as your pelvises touched skin on skin, you found your sanity back the same time you lost it.

Not for the first time that night but for very different reason, your breath hitched in your throat when one hand found the curve of your belly, further descending at an agonizingly slow pace only to come to a halt when you wanted him to continue the most.

In an act of slight desperation at the thought of losing his touch, your hands came to lay upon his shoulders, aiding you in pressing your body closer against his until not even a single strand of hair could escape from between them. You opened your mouth to speak, only to close it again when you found your mind absent words, but filled with this craving you no longer feared.

You held the moon in your arms, his eyes shimmering like stars as they captured yours, a smooth palm coming up to cup your jaw tenderly. When he slightly craned his perfect neck and dipped forward, his lips but grazed the shell of your ear in a whisper.

“Give voice to desire and i shall see it satisfied.”

A delightful shiver crawled down your spine upon receiving those words, his cool breath tickling the sensitive skin of your ear and the sensation shooting straight to your core, hot and yearning despite being enveloped by slightly frigid water.

“Thoughts of being touched by your hands plague my mind, but,” your fingers wandered along the curves of his shoulders until they occupied themselves by tracing the cavities of his beautiful collarbones. “I have yet to experience a more intimate caress of a man… Nor have I ever had the pleasure to...pleasure.”

Once again, you surprised yourself with your unexpected boldness. Usually, such words would kiss burning heat upon your cheeks but in this moment, you felt shameless. Your objective the only thing of clarity in your foggy mind, it fueled your imprudence beyond belief. You would fall to your knees and beg if he would will it so. During your life within the small village, you had already prepared to see it to its end a spinster. No man you had ever encountered had grasped your attention in that sense. They were either dumb, a pig, or both. Not to speak of all other things they could be, or rather, could not.

This man, however. You barely knew him but this very man before you defied any premade judgments and prejudices you’d convinced yourself of, about the male species. He was elegant, attentive, almost fragile. So much different from anything or anyone you’ve ever known.

“Your experience or lack thereof matters not, sweet ___.” He smiled against the skin of your neck, his small nose feeling ticklish as he brushed it along the curve. “I would see you tasting the many delights the body has to offer.”

When he pulled back, separating his lips from your skin, you released the breath you didn’t know you were holding in a slightly disappointed sigh. They had barely touched you, but you already found yourself addicted to the way they felt. The disappointment did not last, however, for the sublime beauty of his face was only a hairsbreadth from your own.

His lips all but brushed against yours as your eyes locked, dark pools of night sky with flickering stars inside of them staring down into your soul and all of its harbored desires. The hand still cupping your jaw shifted a little, only to smooth a single thumb down your bottom lip. “Let me serve them to you.” His voice still like a silk ribbon wrapping itself tightly around your heart as he spoke.

You could only nod once, your jaw slightly slacked, before he tenderly captured your parted lips with his own in a chaste kiss. Those pink cushions felt cool and soft, small but plush as they performed the lightest of movements against the delicate flesh of your lips.

A tickling sensation arose inside your chest where the tips of his fingers drew downward lines until they rested atop your sternum, the small space between your breasts where the swell of your soft mounds already grazed the sides of his digits. His other hand, momentarily forgotten about when his lips touched yours, still laid resting a mere few inches above the small hill of your burning core. The water did nothing nothing to cool it down, as it ached desperately for his touch, right there. You did not know why you wanted his long, slender fingers inside of you, or whether it would even feel good. You just knew that you needed them there, have something to fill up the throbbing emptiness between your legs.

You chose not to speak your desires, fearing that if you would separate from his lips, they would not find their way back to yours. Instead, your hand slid down your own waist until it nudged the arm that was squeezed between your hips. Your fingers trailed along the edge until they found his hand, only to envelop it and guide it further south.

His digits disappeared between your thighs, clenching when you felt his lips curl into a small but satisfied smile against your own. The tips but grazed your hot sex, the feeling slightly ticklish against your sensitive lower lips. In all honesty, you had explored your own body on multiple occasions in the past. You had touched yourself like you imagined a man would if you would ever invite one between your sheets. You were what the people back in your village would describe as a ‘sinful woman’, yet you had never paid it any mind since they had condemned you for much less. Your fingers had been where this enthralling stranger’s were in this moment, but the sensations they enticed were incomparable with those you had induced by yourself.

A gasp tore from your mouth, your eyes fluttering shut in delight from the shock of a single pinch around your swollen, little nub. A lighthearted chuckle tumbled from his lips against yours, briefly pulling you back to reality after the surprise of this foreign pleasure.

You had half a mind of asking him to seize his teasing, right when a finger spread your fleshy folds, allowing the cold water of the pool to titillate the raw and vulnerable skin of your entrance for a brief moment. An almost inaudible hiss slipped from your lips and he took that opportunity to slip his tongue past them. The slickness of the muscle tentatively exploring the crevice of your mouth matched with that of your slit, a fresh flow of arousal coating the digit rubbing shallowly between your folds. Every movement, however small, brought a slight shift in the water with it, tickling and simultaneously relieving your blazing hot core.

Spreading your legs, you widened the space between your thighs in a silent request for more. One your angel of seduction picked up on immediately, judging by how his single digit that was yet a teasing spark mere seconds ago, suddenly turned into a scorching wildfire when it fleetingly prodded at your tight entrance before breaking through the barrier of hot flesh when it penetrated you for the first time.

The feeling was not completely unfamiliar, considering you had also simulated penetration with your own fingers in attempts to pleasure yourself long before this encounter. But just like the fleeting caresses, coming from his touch instead of yours, it was a whole different experience entirely.

Your mind was high on pleasure already and you found it hard to focus on the steady rhythm your tongues were dancing to together, barely grasping the reality of the fact that his perfect lips had still not left yours. All while that one long and slender finger was slowly pumping in and barely out of your wet crevice, your inner walls greedily sucking around the digit. Your head was filled with a haze, pink and sweet and thick like fog, yet your senses had never been this sharp, this heightened before.

The quiet mewls spilling from your mouth directly onto his lips had slipped past your attention, but had only grasped his all the more. He interrupted the breathtaking kiss for a moment, briefly taking your bottom lip between his teeth in the gentlest of a nibble, before slightly opening his eyes in a half-lidded gaze. The sudden absence of his lips slightly alarmed you, causing you to mirror his expression when you looked up at him, your chest slightly panting from the exertion of the kiss.

He said nothing while his ministrations carried on, content to watch your facial features scrunch up in pleasure, making a soft groan filter past his lips as his teeth dug into the bottom one to keep him from gasping at such a sinful sight.

“Aphrodite would be struck by envy like a tree by lightning if she would ever catch sight of you, my darling.” He murmured distractedly, watching as the pace of pants entering and leaving your parted lips increased with that of his finger still rubbing your walls. “Do not worry, for i will never let her wrath find you.”

Having trouble making sense of his soothing words, you still let his voice comfort you as you searched for your own through the labyrinth of overwhelming thoughts and sensations. You came up blank, save for a single question, difficult to formulate in between frantic pants and gasps, mewls and moans when his finger reached unexpected places with a particularly well-aimed thrust.

“Y-you never told— told me your n-name,” You managed to get past your lips with great effort before he stole your breath altogether when he diligently added a second digit inside of you, doubling the fullness, doubling the brain-blistering pleasure.

Another one of those satisfied smirks graced his already striking features, and you managed to catch it right before your eyes screwed shut and you threw your head back in pure ecstasy, registering the sound of his voice when he answered, “You may call me Yoongi, my beautiful maiden.”

“Yoongi!” His name rolled of your tongue in a sigh annex a moan when the two fingers inside of you worked as one to rob you of any thoughts save for that single word. Your forehead sought support against his shoulder as you could not keep your hips from rocking onto his hand, trying to get the maddening pleasure of his defined knuckles deeper into your tightening core.

“I would hear you speak my name in such a manner for all eternity,” Yoongi let you know, a strange expression marring his beautiful face while he seemed to be missing yours, his free hand once again coming up to gently pull your chin up under a feather touch.

His eyes caught yours for the shortest of moments before your lips connected as if they had never been separated. You were overjoyed, back to being devoured as before, but the feeling was short-lived when his fingers abruptly disappeared from the snugness of your hot walls, leaving a woeful emptiness behind.

A soft whine sounded from within your throat, but you could not find the strength to pull away from the mind-numbing kiss to form a real complaint. Choosing not to break the kiss as well, Yoongi answered in similar fashion, a playful and reassuring groan echoing into your mouth while your lips molded against each other like melted wax. Slowly backing you against the edge of the spring, the grass tickling your naked shoulders, his hands slid from your hips and underneath the back of your thighs.

You did not expect to be lifted up so suddenly, so when your feet no longer touched the muddy ground of the spring, a surprised squeal became smothered against his lips as you braced yourself with your hands on his until you found security back in the form of soft moss and grass underneath your backside. When Yoongi broke the kiss once more, your confusion only intensified.

“Would you lay back for me, sweetheart?” He requested in the softest of tones, the heat that never left your cheeks flaring up tenfold as you looked down at the raven haired cause of your demise. He appeared extraordinarily sinful, presented between your legs as he was still waist-deep inside the water while you did as he said and laid back into the comfortable bed of vegetation on land.

“W-what will you-” You started, curiosity getting the better of you as you still attempted to peak down, your weight supported by your elbows. Before you could formulate the whole question, one of your legs found rest on top of one of his perfectly sculpted shoulder while his lips left a trail of slow, wet kisses along your skin.

He started at your calf and worked his way up until he reached your inner thigh, gentle sucks and nibbles littered across every available spot, the more north he traveled, the more the leg he held trembled with anticipation and sensitivity. All the while, his eyes were hooded as he focused on mapping out every hill and valley. When he reached your mound of Venus, his gaze found its way back on your face, which expression was dazed with the feeling of a thousand buzzing nerves humming in contentment at the pleasurable prickles he left behind across the entirety of your leg.

“The first delicacy i will serve you, sweet ___.” he murmurs, planting a chaste peck next to your groin and having you shiver at the proximity of his mouth near your sex. Never, not even in your wildest fantasies, would you have imagined a man’s lips so close to your lower ones. You’d heard stories of women and their husbands, where they had been requested to perform oral pleasure on their partners… the women as the performers, mind you, you had always thought it a strange but intriguing concept, like a special service. Nevertheless, you had always written it off as a way for men to feel superior to their spouses. You had not even once thought about the possibility of the men as the performers, despite your critical mind. Assuming that this man, this miraculous person, is going to do to you what you had heard women were expected to do to their husbands… With the roles reversed, what did that make you? What did it mean?

Your thoughts were rudely interrupted when a slick wetness glided along your hyper receptive slit, quite shallowly at first as he but licked a long stripe on the outside where both your outer and parts of your inner folds were bared before the caresses of his wet muscle. Just this simple action, knowing the more sensitive of skin has not yet been reached, already has you reeling in rapture. Two of his fingers spread your lips apart, revealing the soft, velvety tissue, so vulnerable and delicate to his touch.

Another soft groan, bordering on a whine, willingly slipped from Yoongi’s beautiful, swollen lips as he took in the sight of the treasure between your legs, needing a moment to take it all in. The moment was indeed exactly that; a moment. It did not last long before he dove face first into your hot center, eagerly lapping up your essence, richly flowing from the crevice of your tightness. The experience was entirely ludicrous, a fleeting note that if you had thought his fingers felt divine before, this was launching you directly into the heavens.

A strangled moan forced its way out of your lungs when his tongue curled around your little nub, hot and swollen with want, and his lips followed suit to suck not so gently as you would have expected him to, nor would you have wanted him to. Your whole body staggered, back arching from the ground and your head thrown back in utter disbelief of the insane onslaught of pleasure he was inflicting on your poor virgin vagina. Your fingers found shelter in his midnight locks, tugging at the strands and accompanied by your lips, a waterfall of lewd moans mixed with chants of his name with a mind absent thought, you appeared as if gone completely deranged.

Your delectable noises and the urgent tugs at his silken hair moved Yoongi to lose himself further into the devouring of your begging mound, paying special attention to your red hot clit as it made you spout particularly delirious nonsense when he did. You tasted absolutely palatable on his tongue, the nectar of the lotuses bland in comparison in his modest opinion, and the more he licked, the more he sucked, the more your own nectar flowed.

You would have considered him a man starved, not taking note of the context, considering how desperately he buried his face between your legs to lap up every single drop. He enjoyed it so much, he was almost disappointed to see you topple over the edge much too soon for his liking. You did so bathing in sweat, muscles tensing up and white blasting behind your tightly screwed eyes as you sobbed an attempt at his name, your fingers clenching around your angel of sin’s locks as if they were reigns. Your skin glistened with the exertion of pleasure rather than the water from the spring, your body steaming in the cool night air as your first orgasm attacked your every nerve. Never had you experienced anything of the sort in your life before, a feeling as though you were possessed. Maybe the people in your village did have a point.

Panting in aftermath, small sighs and gasps of lingering disbelief continued to fall from your lips, your eyes widely staring at the stars above you and your hazed mind trying to make sense of what had just occurred. Yoongi licked a final stroke of wetness across your slit, making you hiss in sensitivity and having him snicker mischievously in response. Your hands fell limp and slided from his hair to lay uselessly next to your weak, spent body.

He carefully pulled you back into the water, hands guiding your hips so you would slowly slide down the edge without hurting yourself. You had trouble finding your balance, your legs still wobbly and weak and your mind drunk on the bliss of a hard climax, but he made sure to support you well with his arms locked around your waist and your chests pressed together.

“Well,” He started, a smug smile plastered on his almost marble-like face as he studied your delirious one in amusement, “Did you enjoy your first course, sweetheart?”

An incredulous laugh found its way past your lips, your forehead resting against his as you couldn’t keep the stunned smile off your face, “That was...was....It was…” You shook your head and giggled softly, not for the first time that night unable to find words that matched with what you felt.

“Agreed,” Yoongi chuckled, pecking a soft kiss on your cheek that made you want to curl into a ball, “If you still have an appetite, we can move on to the next one.” He proposed, the tone in his voice tempting and promising.

“Consider me a glutton, then,” You bravely stated, a daring look in your eyes and an accepting one in his when they met again, “For i will be hungry as long as there are courses.”

His thumb fondly smoothed over the skin of your cheek as he looked at you like you were a dream. “Oh, sweet ___,” He sighed in wonder, “If only.”

You wished to ask him If only what? but you did not get much chance to when his lips were back on yours in an instant. This time, they moved with a purpose, an untamed craving that came from deep within. His arms dropped from your waist to settle on your behind instead, his large hands squeezing your asscheeks as he pulled you impossible closer to him. The hardened buds of your nipples grazed his torso and even the smallest of sensations like that made a shiver trickle down his skin, raising goosebumps on his arms that had nothing to do with the nightly breeze.

A strange object dug into your hip, your eyebrows creasing slightly as you let one of your hands descend into the water to identify it. Heat flared underneath your cheeks, your eyes wide in realization when your fingers closed around a hard, meaty shaft, attached to the god-like man in front of you. You have seen many a manhood during your life in the village, especially when the men got drunk and liked to boast with their cocks. Not that you had ever thought they had anything to boast with. You had never touched one before, however, feeling the weight of Yoongi’s in your hand, it felt nice. You felt excited, the nervousness somehow never breaking through. Not once during your encounter with your beautiful stranger since you had entered the water with him, had you felt nervous or scared. Despite this being your very first sexual experiences with a man.

A soft moan broke through your pondering thoughts, making you remember the fact that you were still holding his hardened length in your hand. Closing your fingers around the shaft a little more tightly, you attempted a hesitant stroke, making his hips respond immediately by bucking into your hand further, so you did it again. Gaining more confidence, you tried experimenting with varying pressure, smoothing your thumb over the head like he’d done with your bottom lip and earning a delicious moan from his lips. Within a minute, you were getting the hang of it, even finding enjoyment in the action as you watched various expressions cross his beautiful features. Mesmerized by the sight, you lost track of the vigor of which you were pleasuring him with, too absorbed in the way his lips parted for drawn out moans and furrowing eyebrows.

You had not expected a hand coming down and joining you underwater to halt your ministrations so quickly, panting breaths hot against the nape of your neck where Yoongi’s head laid to rest for a moment.

“Your enthusiasm leaves me in awe, sweetheart,” He chuckles breathlessly into your ear, “but it is time for me to serve you once more.”

Your heart leaped in your chest when his hand left yours to lift up your leg, hooking it over his arm to keep your thighs widely spread as you stood in the pool of water. Your back still rested against the edge of the spring, making it easier for you to keep your balance. His free hand replaced yours that was still wrapped around his girth, his hips nestling between your own as the head of his cock kissed your wet entrance.

The anticipation picked up the pace of your breathing, your chest heaving quickly as he brushed the engorged tip between your slick folds, collecting your arousal to make it nice and slippery. His eyes found yours again after both sets were temporarily staring mesmerized into the clear water, watching the distorted image of your actions through the ripples of the pool. A single nod is all it took for him to get permission to enter you, tentatively guiding his length inside your tight core, your walls mercilessly clenching around him. Whether it was to try and push out the foreign object or suck it further in, you could not tell. There was a screaming, nagging pain when you took in more of him, his girth significantly more broad than the two fingers he had used to pleasure you before. It felt like small tears on the inside, and the uncomfortable feeling lasted until he was sheathed to the hilt.

“How do you feel?” His breath staggered as he asked the question, his arms and legs shaking with sheer effort to keep still inside of you.

“It’s… quite alright.” You answered in all honesty, the pain ebbing away steadily as your tightness grew accustomed to the intruding thickness of his shaft. “Go on.”

Yoongi nodded, lips softly moving against your own in an attempt of soothing the awkward feeling of the first strokes inside of you when he slowly started to move his hips, coaxing you through the pain. It hurt no longer, although the feeling was not exactly to be described as very pleasant. You had started to miss Yoongi’s mouth on your little nub, but were surprised by the replacement of pain with pleasure after a few seconds of getting used to the stretch.

“Oh!” You exclaimed when a slightly sharper thrust hit a spot deep within you that had your eyes roll back for a moment. Uncomfortable grunts turned into delighted moans when the repeated movements started to feel good, making you feel full and satisfied instead of tolerating a painful stretch. “Yoongi…”

The sighed out moan of his name was his cue to take it up a notch now you were no longer uncomfortable, but receiving pleasure out of the way his hips snapped up and buried his cock deep inside. He pulled your leg up just a little higher, only to plummet himself deeper than he’s ever gone, the head of his cock hitting your inner sweet spot directly. Judging by the way your voice raised in pitch as well as decibels, he knew he’d aimed well. With this newfound angle, Yoongi continued to pound into you with a steady rhythm, hitting that spot over and over until you were a mess with your fingers tightly clutched into his hair once again, a warbling mess unable to form coherent words. He could not keep from moaning either, the feeling of your tight walls holding his cock in a vice-like grip and milking him for all he’s got.

“Y-Yoo-oon-gi!” His name left your mouth in sounds pulled apart by the powerful thrusts making you bob up an down and steal your breath, a pathetic attempt of a warning.

When he added pressure on your neglected little nub, sparks practically flew from your skin. You were tumbling head first into your second orgasm that night, dangerously fast for someone who has never experienced one before. It was all too much, too overwhelming, too sensitive and powerful and you let the tears stream down your cheeks as you could feel yourself reaching your peak, the knot in the pit of your stomach almost painfully tightening while Yoongi continued to rub your clit diligently.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” He cooed, giving you adoring kisses on your lips, your cheeks, your neck. His breathing was heavy as he, too, neared the edge of his release, “Let it all go for me.”

You could not hold back even if you had wanted to, so you did as he said and let go with one last choked back moan, one last swallowed sob, one last pull at his precious head of obsidian hairs. This climax knocked the wind out of your lungs, your clit on the brink of painful overstimulation but also not wanting him to stop the rubbing while you came all over his thick cock, still thrusting mercilessly into you in a less controlled rhythm compared to before. This announced the fact that Yoongi, too, was at his limit as his grunts and moans rose in pitch and frequency, your walls hot and wet and tight as they pulsed around his length until he could not fight it anymore and erupted inside of you, coating them in a layer of his hot, white, sticky seed. He kept you close to him as he filled you up until not a single drop was left to spill. He slowly slipped out of you when he went soft again, but held you inside his embrace for a little while longer so you could both relish in the afterglow. You listened to each other’s heavy breathing, soft sighs and relieved moans as fingers lazily caressed skin, soft kisses landed on the first patch of skin they could find. It was intimate, close, like you had forgotten you had been strangers at the beginning of the night. It felt like you had known each other your entire lives.

“You are divine,” Yoongi sighed in utter bliss, gently brushing your mussed hair back much like he had earlier this night, planting another adoring kiss on your lips, “my sweet ___.”

You wished you could revel in this warmth, this love, forever. With your head far up in the clouds above, you had nearly forgotten about the question that had burned on your tongue since you first laid eyes on him.

“I must ask,” you started, hesitantly, as you worried your bottom lip between your teeth, “are you human?”

A silence fell, but it was not uncomfortable. It was expectant, innocent. You watched the way his eyes never seized to shimmer like stars as he mulled over his answer while lightly caressing your face with the tips of his fingers.

“I can not say that i am.” He finally answered, a light huff leaving his slightly curled up lips.

“I never thought you were.” You admitted. “Then, if i may, what are you? Are you an angel?”

An adoring smile giving you a peak of the slightest bit of gums spread across his face, a beauty you were sure you could never get used to even if the heavens would grant you an additional thousand years of life. “I’m afraid I am quite a bit older than the angels that you know, sweet ___. My heritage goes back further than the existence of your God.”

You looked at him expectantly, knowing there was more to his identity, his story. Noticing the curious gleam in your eyes, he continued.

“My father was a lover of the beautiful Goddess Aphrodite,” He sighed, not out of exasperation but more so out of a strange kind of acceptance of the story he was going to share with you, “she was rather fond of him, you know. He wasn’t handsome but he was beautiful. A delicate beauty that seemed to make the moon look bleak in comparison.”

“You are much like your father then?” You carefully inquired, a soft smile encouraging him to go on.

“In terms of looks at least, i suppose,” He smiled back, letting you know it was alright to ask questions, “I have never met my parents, personally. I only know their story, since it is also mine.”

“What happened?”

“Aphrodite wished to keep him for herself exclusively. She was not possessive of nature and was content loving each and every man that appealed to her the same. For some strange reason, with him, she felt differently.”

You listened intently, intrigued by the tales of which you’ve read about in books you secretly stole from the town’s library from time to time. Gods, Goddesses, Aphrodite...lovers. It was all true.

“He fell in love with a Naiad, a water nymph from Megara. Her name was Yiloise.”

��Your mother.” You understood.

“My mother.” He confirmed with a small nod of his head. “Does that answer your question?”

You nodded back slowly, amazed at that single fact , “So you are a nymph…”

“I am. Does that repel you?” He teased.

“On the contrary,” You suppressed an excited giggle. You had never thought nymphs and other mythical beings to exist up until you’d slept with one. “What happened to the Goddess Aphrodite, though?” You wondered out loud.

“That, my sweet ___, is why i am here.” Yoongi explained, a slightly sombre expression casting a shadow on his radiant beauty, “In a fit of jealousy, she punished my mother by taking me from her after she gave birth to me, only to banish me to this forest forever. I was meant to waste away here for all eternity.”

Having not expected such a tragic turn of events, you fell silent. You pitied him, even though you tried to fight it, and he picked up on it.

“Do not feel sorrow for me, sweetheart.” He gave you another reassuring, soft smile, halting the welling tears in your eyes from spilling past the border. “I am not alone. I never am.”

“I do not wish to leave you.” You told him, your voice but above a whisper as your heart felt crushed by a stone at the mere thought of being separated from this exquisite being.

“You will never have to.” He hushed you, his soft lips pressing a familiar kiss to yours and lifting the weight from your chest instantly. “I will see to it.”

As you melted away in each other’s warm embrace within the cold spring, time seized to exist as all that mattered was that he was yours and you were his, and you forgot about the village, about the wolves, about the world. Your only wish was to stay by his side, forever.

And so another never returned from the haunted forest, fallen into the clutch of the ancient soul it harbored.

[fanartfunart]

A Little Daydream

*puts this here and runs away* OK writing. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh. (also, links to some pieces of the art is embedded in here because, yeah, some of it I’ve drawn small snippets of. Here’s context. HEH.) YEET. 

Summary: Daydream AU- Local Unicorn, Patton, was strolling through the wilderness when he hears some disturbances in the pattern of life. Roman is quite distressed at encountering some magical beings.

Ships: N/A, Platonic Logicality? I guess?? (idk, open to interpretation I would say.)

Warnings: Roman hit’s his head and falls on the ground....think that’s it. Tell me if I should tag anything!

Words: 2495 (ish. I edited a little since I last checked...)

~

Patton was having a fairly normal day. Just wandering around, enjoying the day. Fall had settled into the kingdom, and the near laziness of summer was starting to wear off for most. A fresh breeze pulled the smell of the last rain through the kingdom. The sun warmed his back with a golden glow. The wash of the river filling his ears. Even some of the animals of the forested grove took time to greet him out of their busy days.

Patton trotted along the riverbed, greeting the busy creatures and occasionally helping them collect their winter needs. He didn’t particularly need to do anything in preparation for winter, his plans would stay the same as they were last year and the years before.

His ears flicked up and toward a loud ruckus of movement. He let out a huff of a breath, frowning. A human or two, most likely, were running through the forest and causing a mass exodus of wildlife. Patton shook his head and weaved further into the treeline as his precaution and continued along. He kept careful attention to his footing as he moved.

“Stop!” came a shout. Patton whipped his head towards the voice. The snap of branches and twigs underfoot seeming to echo through the nearby clearing.

“Roman!” the voice shouted, “Stop!”

A shout rang out as a slide of rocks tumbled down into the river waters. Patton watched the human in a blur of white attire crash into the water, apparently not stopping fast enough before he hit the riverbed, and disappear under the waves. He was moving before he could think and dived into the water.

Shapeshifting, at this point, was normal for him. He was vaguely aware his form had changed, that, instead of hooves, a pair of webbed paws pushed through the water. It was normal, nearly instinct at this point.

He let the momentum of the water pull him toward the individual in white and collected him with his mouth before his form was changing again and he stood, belly deep in water. He tilted his head up, holding the human by its coat, and tried, as careful as he could manage, to get out of the rushing water without slipping.

The climb back up was awkward and made him heavily aware of his hooves and ankles, bending in awkward directions from the rocks. He pushed himself up and carefully set the human down before shaking himself off.

He huffed out a breath and glanced down at the creature that was wet and tired looking, and… He pushed it gently with a hoof. Asleep. He could distantly hear the sounds of the other human and it did not sound happy. Patton frowned at his new human and picked it up, throwing the creature somewhat haphazardly onto his back. He trotted along and hopped when the human woke up that it wouldn’t be too distressed.

Roman groaned, a jostle of movement plaguing his senses.

“Wha-” Roman’s eyes finally let him take in the sight of a horse’s forelegs, while his ears began to register a voice chattering away.

“I haven’t met many humans, however, so maybe you’ll be the nice kind! I wonder if we could be friends! Oh, you might want to go back home though. I don’t think I’d do too well in the settlements you have. Perhaps I could visit.”

Roman sat up and stared at the horn protruding clearly from the animal’s head.

“Oh, you’re awake!” Patton announced brightly, turning his head to look at him.

Roman screamed. Patton abruptly jolted, and Roman was on the ground before he could register he’d been bucked off. Patton froze and turned around, facing Roman with sympathy in his wide eyes.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry! Are you okay? You just startled me, that’s all. I hope I didn’t hurt you!”

Roman took in frantic breaths as he watched the unicorn (A real-life unicorn!) lean down to look at him. Talking to him! “You- what- How?”

Patton smiled, which was an odd expression on a horse (unicorn)’s face, but somehow seemed reassuring. “I assumed you were running away from the other human-person and you fell into the water and I think you hit your head, which should have healed ok by now, and I decided to take you with me until you woke up!”

“You’re talking. A unicorn- is talking to me.”

Patton laughed and the unicorn’s large form shifted into a human one, “Is this better?”

Roman’s eyes only widened, “You can shapeshift?” he screeched, scrambling backward.

Patton smiled brightly and nodded, glancing down at himself, inspecting the fabric of his shirt. He glanced at Roman, “Yep! It’s kinda fun!”

Roman shook his head and let himself fall onto his back, covering his eyes with one arm, “Am I dead?”

“No?” Patton said, leaning over him, “I’m fairly sure you’re alive.”

Roman let out a heavy breath and blinked a few times. He nodded, head bobbing faster as he began to sit up, “Okay, okay,” he swept his hands out as he let out another breath, “Alright, I got this. I’m cool. Cool as butter.”

Patton tilted his head, brow furrowed, “Feeling okay?”

Roman nodded and stood up, feet wavering under him. He held out his hands as if pleading for the ground to allow him to stay standing. Roman glanced up at the face of the- “Oh my gods you look kinda like me.”

“Oh do I?” Patton patted his face and frowned, “I don’t usually think too much about it- Should I-”

 “Don’t change it-” Roman yelled, voice squeaking. He held out a shaky hand, “Just-” he let out a breath, “I’ll adjust easier to- this- than to seeing you do that again.”

Patton gave a gentle smile and shrugged, “Alrighty.”

Roman then began to inspect the area around him. Eyes flickering over the terrain, brows furrowed in concentration.

“I’m Patton. By the way.”

“A pleasure to meet you Patton,” he said distractedly, kneeling down to touch a plant.

Patton leaned down next to him, “What’s your name? Can’t keep calling ya’ ‘human’.”

Roman turned, eyeing him, “You understand how strange that sounds, correct?”

“Well, I don’t have anything else to call you!” Patton said, pouting as he put his hands on his hips.

Roman sighed, “You may address me as-” he paused, eyes focusing on the ground. He stood and dusted off his pants. He glanced at Patton, “Ah. Roman. Yes, that will suffice.”

“Oh, right, that was what the other hu- I mean person,” Patton corrected himself slowly, “-was calling you.”

Roman forced a smile of sorts and nodded, “Yes. That’s my name.” Roman let out a laugh and inspected a leaf with far too much interest.

“I’ve heard it before that too,” Patton muttered, tapping his chin in thought, squinting over at Roman.

Roman stiffened. “Where are we?” he complained loudly, twirling to look at Patton.

“Uh-” Patton glanced around, “A forest?”

“You brought us here!”

Patton made an uneasy laugh of a sound, “I- get lost easy.”

Roman trudged along the path, kicking dirt and twigs as he walked. He cringed at the sound of Patton mirroring him and giggling.

“Why?” Roman shouted, turning to face him, “May I ask! Are you following me?”

Patton looked up, “Do you prefer walking alone?” He tilted his head like a puppy at the question.

Roman raised a finger, opening his mouth with an indignant sound. He let out a huff and turned back around. Patton smiled and jogged over so he was next to Roman.

“Where are you going? Home? Where do you live?”

Roman folded his arms around himself, fingers running over the raised patches on his shoulders, “Nowhere.”

“You can’t go nowhere, and surely you don’t live ‘nowhere.’ Even I live somewhere.”

“And where is that?” Roman said, turning slightly to look at Patton.

“Home is wherever I am!” Patton announced cheerfully, “Today, this forest shall be my home.”

“What about your family?” Roman said quickly, brows furrowed, “Friends?”

Patton blinked, “I make friends easily. Everyone can be a friend if you treat them like one!”

Roman glanced back down at the path, “Not everyone,” he mumbled. Patton tilted his head, concern written on his face. He took in a breath to speak before deciding against it.

Roman looked up at the sky and flickered into a smile, “Alright, I think we better get some food and shelter before the night falls.”

Patton smiled brightly, “I’m great at finding food!”

“Alright,” Roman announced, “Then I’ll collect things for a fire and some shelter.” Roman turned to find Patton replaced by a very excited unicorn, and he yelped.

“Warn me next time!” Roman complained.

Patton gave a sympathetic smile, the horn on his head glowing brightly. He bent his head down and glanced up, “Ooh, perfect!” he announced and with a flick of his tail, began to trot through the forest.

“Just remember to come back here!” Roman yelled after him.

“Okay!” Patton yelled back.

Roman rolled his eyes. “He better not bring back grass.”

He let out a heavy sigh and glanced around, “Alright. How the hell do I make a fire?”

 Roman had collected himself an assortment of wood, moss, leaves and various other items to set up a shelter for himself and his new friend. He frowned at his collection. It was not enough to cover a horse. Roman let out a frustrated huff and let it all drop. He brushed down his jacket, the white of the fabric turned green and brown in several areas.

A buzz of sound. Like the wingbeat of a rather large insect. Roman frowned, eyes darting over the region. For a moment, he was certain he was siking himself out. In the corner of his eyes, a blur of motion. Roman froze, eyes watching for whatever it was.

He heard it again and shifted quickly to find himself face to face with a fairy. The winged being looked rather offended by Roman blocking his intended path.

“Don’t turn me into a frog! Please!” Roman cried quickly. If there was one thing he knew about fairies and fae it was that they were not to be trifled with.

The fairy's stoic and annoyed expression turned into one of confoundment.

“Turn you-” Roman’s eyes widened as the fairy lifted his arms, wings a flurry of motion as he hovered in front of him. Roman took an instinctive step back.

“How!” he shouted, “Do you understand the scientific impossibility of such an act? It’s essentially shapeshifting! It makes no sense!”

Roman furrowed his brow, tilting his head, the fairy continued, now pacing in the air, “I can comprehend the idea that shapeshifters themselves have some genetic flexibility wired into their DNA to the point that they can manipulate their genetic sequence to become that of another being.”

The fairy paused and turned to look back at Roman, practically livid, “But you are a human and I am a faerie. It would make no sense!” By then the fairy’s voice began to sound like high-pitched bells, either too high or too small for Roman to properly make out.

“‘M back!” Patton announced, with a mouth full of... something in a basket. (Where did he get a basket?) Roman looked past the fairy towards Patton. Patton dropped his basket and gasped. The fairy had turned, and the unicorn and fairy met each other halfway. Patton crouched down so that he was at eye level with the creature, a smile breaking across his face.

“Logan!” Patton announced happily, his tail swishing with excitement, more like a dog than a horse in Roman’s mind. Unicorns were beginning to confuse him.

The fairy's voice was still unregistrable to Roman’s ears, but he could tell he was talking...maybe yelling actually. Roman frowned, the fairy was probably talking bad about him, wasn’t he? Patton looked at him with intent and interest before announcing, “Ooh! Ooh! I can do that too!”

Roman at first thought that Patton had entirely disappeared. Until he noticed the second small being flying in an excited manner. Roman leaned down only for Patton to grow in size, a sheepish smile on his face, “I think I surprised him a bit.” Roman glanced down, finding a small fairy lying limp in Patton’s palm.

“Did you kill him?” Roman announced loudly, pulling on his hair.

Roman watched Patton and Logan chat, voices too quiet or high or something for Roman to hear. He let out a loud sigh before muttering, “Excuse me. What is happening?” Roman asked, frowning down at the pair.

Roman gulped when the motions from the two blue-winged creatures paused and he could feel the color drain from his face as the fairy- Logan- was now much taller than him.

Logan tilted his head and looked Roman over, “Patton,” he said, voice sounding cold, yet casual, eyes still fixed on Roman. Roman glanced towards the unicorn (who was once again a unicorn, thankfully). Patton had a small smile on his face as he stood beside them, eyes looking between them. “Care to properly introduce me to your human?”

Roman made a series of noises and Patton smiled brightly, “Oh! Yeah! This is Roman, Roman, this is Logan. Oh hey, your names rhyme!”

A chill ran down Roman’s spine as Logan continued to stare down at him. The fairy’s lips turned up into a small smile. “Yes, it is quite amusing that our names rhyme. I quite like rhymes, don’t you Roman?”

He furrowed his brows, hoping his confusion didn’t show on his face.

“You are aware of what a rhyme is, yes?”

“Of course!” Roman announced, “I was just-” Roman swallowed down the rise in his voice’s pitch and let out a calming breath, “I- was just- put off guard. Is all. I didn’t know that Patton was friends with a-”

Logan quirked a brow and Roman wanted to fold in on himself.

“Logannnn,” Patton said chided playfully, “You’re scaring himmmm.”

“I am not,” Logan said, a matter of factly.

“Are too,” Patton said, pushing his lower lip into a heavily exaggerated pout. He stopped a hoof, punctuating his point.

Logan groaned loudly and readjusted his glasses. “My apologies, Roman, it appears I have frightened you in some manner and it was not my intention. I will not curse or harm you in any way, as I am sure Patton will ensure.” Logan turned towards Patton, “Does that suffice?” Patton nodded and Logan let out a huff of a sigh, shrinking and sitting on a twig Roman had collected.

“How do you know each other?” Roman gawked, looking between them with wide eyes.

Patton paused a moment before blinking and smiling, “Oh, we were kids. He helped me with some magical-ness and we just- pow- took off as friends!”

Logan furrowed his brow, giving the unicorn a small frown before he glanced back towards Roman.

Roman was looking up, the branches of the trees rustling as the cool winds fluttered through them. The moon rising overhead. “Uh... do you know how to build a fire?” Roman muttered, “I am,” he bit his lip, “mostly clueless as to the process.”

Patton shook his head.

Logan regarded Roman quietly before he stood up, balancing on his twig, “I am aware of the practical application of fire-building.” Logan jumped off the twig and grew to a larger size, “Would you appreciate my assistance?”

Roman looked the fairy over, “For what purpose to you?”

“The pleasure of teaching an individual such as yourself, practical skills?”

Roman glanced toward Patton. He sighed heavily and leaned back, “Finnee.”

Daydream AU taglist:

@importantrunawaystudentstuff @phantomofthesanderssides @nightmarejasmine @bunny222 @sealover89 @taleofacomet @syleon-lover-crazyfangirl1415 @justanotherpurplebutterfly @i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing @anonymous-gay-rainbow164 @thefallendog @khadij-al-kubra @pandagirl0730 @princeanxious @punch-you-with-friendship @spookilyfingergunsoutofexistence @pendulumtess @patton-in-name @ab-artist

I....I don’t know if I should tag my gen. art tag?? it’s not art?? but...they might also want to see this?? Fudge it. I’m doing it. If you don’t wanna be tagged in writing just lemme know.

@famders-positivity-blog @teacupfulofstarshine @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @punsterterry @i-will-physically-fight-you @youreacherry-blossom

Also, since I’m being brave: @broadwaytheanimatedseries

Since you asked about how they meet Roman. Virgil’s next. Don’t worry.