#and I am prepared to wreak havoc

[slimylittlemaggot]

Be gay, do crime. The crime I mean is arson. I am going to commit arson.

[lexalovesbooks]

checking in how's it going. u okay?

I think this might actually be my favorite fantasy series I’ve ever read

[baeshijima]

— spoils of war

as heir to the throne, you were more than prepared to face the consequences of losing a war. your duty will forever remain for as long as you breathe, and if that meant bearing the weight of countless sacrificed souls and carrying it with you for the rest of your life, or even being forced to watch your land burn before your eyes was the price you had to pay, then so be it.

the last consequence you could have ever expected and were the least prepared for, however, was an offer of marriage from the ruler of the victorious nation.

CONTAINS : gn!reader, 3.5k wc, fluff, slightly suggestive ending, royalty!au, marriage of convenience (kind of), vague mentions of war & blood, mentioned assassination attempt, mentions of having children (very vague and in the "heir to the throne" kind of way), use of "mydeimos" and "mydei", reader is having an existential crisis; mydei is, um, mydei-ing, written pre-3.0

A/N : is this ooc? um... we will find out haha !! (the moment i saw this man i was wondering how i could royal au-ifiy him (outside of him already being a crown prince, that is). i thought of him being a mercenary or personal guard, but @sfznyxio ty for putting the words 'king' and 'mydei' in the same sentence when u showed his drip in the server bc this idea was born and now i am terminally unwell for him 🙏 but also how did this turn into an actual fic when it was literally a 2 para brainrot in discord... where did this plot come from...)

King Mydeimos, present ruler of Kremnos Kingdom, is infamous across the lands. He is a rumoured tyrant thought to have killed his bloodline in order to obtain this position, whose name alone strikes fear into many, and the very same being who just won the war against your own kingdom.

When marching through the capital to reach the steps of the palace after seizing victory and bathed in the lights of glory, his troops following close behind, you thought he would demand for the materialistic spoils such as the kingdom’s trove, maybe choose to seize control over the defeated land and its troops, or perhaps even wreak further havoc within the castle walls. Given the name he has built for himself, it certainly wouldn't surprise you if he decided to forgo all formality and instead brandish his sword like a blood-bathed barbarian.

And so when he appears in the palace entrance, the setting sun giving his rugged appearance a far more... put together look than expected (you refuse to admit the enemy's ruler to be... handsome, of all things), a recitation of prayers hammered into your head throughout the years of etiquette training spring to mind. If you're destined to fall here, you at least wish to perish with thankful thoughts!

...At least, that was the original plan.

So why is it now you're hearing him ask your father and mother, the king and queen of this now defeated kingdom, for your hand in marriage? Where did this sudden formality come from? No, why is he suddenly bowing to his defeated enemies? And— lord almighty above, did he really have to do this here and now? In front of your nation's high council and his own men, no less!

It is safe to assume every jaw except for Mydeimos' dropped into the nether realm, all eyes gawking at his tall, unperturbed figure bowing in respect towards your parents in the centre.

Having probably sensed the rather awkward air bubbling amidst the dumbfounded troops, your parents turn to you in wait for your decision. Despite the apparent pleas in their eyes for you to not agree to such a ludicrous turn of events, what choice do you really have other than to accept? Who knows what this so-called tyrant could do should you refuse this offer when he is being so lenient!

An audible gulp escapes the base of your throat the moment his scalding gaze locks onto you after your hesitant words of approval, searing a trail of where his eyes trails onto your skin.

Seriously, you haven't been on the receiving end of many — if any — wars, but you're almost positive they don't end this... pleasantly, for a lack of better words.

(Who would've thought you would be a spoils of war, as opposed to the national treasure trove...)

Set to depart when the sun rises, there is little time to gather your bearings and your belongings. Servants are bustling while your parents crowd around you, asking if you're really going to go through with this and, “You can say no! If they don't take your rejection well, we can smite them with our army!”

To that, all you have to say is, “...What army? They're all dead.”

They didn't take that very well, if their concerning increase in flowing tears have anything to say about it.

The send-off is nothing too grandiose, save for the entire palace standing at the gates shouting farewells through tear-streaked wails and blowing handkerchiefs. Your parents are at the forefront of it all. Your mother holds your hands as she tells you to return promptly if it gets too much regardless of the consequences (you appreciate the sentiment, but you don't want to burden your family nor your nation because of a dislike), while your father stands before Mydeimos with an order for him to treat you well and respectfully and, “If you damage even a mere hair on my beloved child's head, I will have your head on display!”

...Perhaps that would have been more threatening if not for the slight tremble of his legs and waver in his voice but, again, you appreciate the sentiment. Mydeimos, if anything, takes it in stride with a calm nod of his head and a promise to take care of you. Really, does anything other than the battlefield phase him...?

Soon you're in the carriage and settled opposite your soon-to-be husband, on your way to your new life with a heavy heart. Is this what all your training to take over the throne has surmounted to? Have all your efforts and dedication spent on being the perfect heir for your kingdom simply come down to being wed to an enemy nation's ruler?

Well, perhaps “enemy” is not the right term anymore; not when both your kingdom's are now in a mutually beneficial alliance, along with the promise for one of your heirs becoming next in line for your kingdom's throne.

Ha! What makes him so sure you will have more than one between you?

...Was what you had asked back when he first made the declaration to your parents, only for him to respond in kind with, “If you'd rather adopt, then we can do so.”

(Bastard. Can't he break composure at least a little?)

As the ride drags on, silence permeates. Whether it is the lingering nerves you hid from your parents or this suffocating intimidation confined within the small carriage space, one question still remains at the forefront of your mind: why did he decide to marry you? Truly, it miffs you. He could have just left you to suffer in the downfall of your nation if he wished to do so, or even let you stay as the heir to the now-allianced kingdom.

Upon questioning his motives for your hand in marriage, his response was merely a slow blink before uttering, "The council wouldn't stop pestering me about getting married."

Oh. Was it really that simple of a reason?

Lips pursed, you press a little more. “Then why did you add benefits, such as an alliance with my kingdom? Even if you, King Mydeimos, were to just—”

“Mydei.”

“—just cut down…” trailing off at the sudden interruption, you blink at his cross-armed figure seated across from you. “Oh, um, what?”

“Mydei,” he repeats once more, attention solely focused on you. “No need to bother with formalities. Just refer to me as such.”

“Oh, well, alright... Mydei?” At your uncertain tone, he nods, as though urging for you to carry on. “Right, well, as I was saying... What was I saying...?”

Without missing a beat, he responds, “You were asking why I offered your kingdom a mutually beneficial alliance when I have the means to cut down the nation with brute force and take what I want through violence.”

“Oh, right…” Huh. Did you say all of that? Well, you certainly were thinking of it, but were you that harsh in your wording? Considering how he recited it all without hesitation, you probably did say all of that, with him being a pretty good listener and you perhaps needing to think over your words before you speak them. “So what is your answer to my curiosity?”

“I simply thought you would be happier if I spared your land and made an offer both of us would benefit from.”

“...I see. Well, thank you for your consideration.”

“Think nothing of it.”

And so the ride continues in silence once more, though this time you find yourself more at ease compared to the prior situation. You, however, still have your doubts about the benefits he gave with the alliance proposal, amongst the absurdity of this entire situation.

...Is the man sitting before you really the feared tyrannical ruler people made him out to be? Surely he is being far too merciful for someone of such reputation. There has been no threats, no coercion (well, if you don’t count the whole marriage fiasco as such, but you did willingly agree to it…), no usage of violence — did people perhaps badmouth the wrong monarch?

Then again, the majority of his prowess and achievements stem from the battlefield. Was all this information just mere hearsay from those jealous of his noteworthy feats, or do their words truly hold some merit in their claim? And really, what do you know about Mydei? From his thoughts, to his motives, to the reasoning behind each action… you know nothing.

Well, considering how he has entertained each of your whims thus far, he has the ability to entertain one more, right?

“Mydei, if I may,” you start, looking to him for approval to continue. When he nods encouragingly, you continue. “You said you made an offer we would both benefit from. While I acknowledge the military and protection we receive from you, what benefit do you reap from us?”

Had you not been eyeing him so intently, perhaps the subtle stiffening of his muscles or twitch of his fingers would have remained unnoticed. 

“Apart from the high quality agricultural and material trade, I have obtained one more thing. Rather than a benefit, however,” he trails off, gaze shifting to the carriage floor. His voice tapers slightly, subtleties of fondness seeping into his tone. When his eyes move to meet your own once more, your mouth runs dry at the undeniable warmth which swirls within his gaze, the rapid pounding of your heart betraying your thoughts. “I consider meeting and having the privilege of marrying you to be the most priceless of rewards I could have obtained.”

(...Who knew a subtle smile could be so beautiful.)

Settling into your new role as the co-ruler of Kremnos was a far easier transition than you’d anticipated. Despite some initial apprehension at your sudden intrusion into the citizen’s lives and you being from another nation, the reactions you were greeted with upon arrival were well-within your expectations.

Apprehension? Sure. Skepticism? Great. Concern over your abilities? Fantastic! Immediate, wholehearted acceptance with preparations already made for your arrival? Um… Come again?

Yes. Compared to the civilian’s very normal, completely expected doubt and uncertainty about you being thrust into the role of their new co-ruler, the same cannot be said about the palace staff. The moment Mydei helped you out of the carriage, a line of servants were at the ready, lined up with the necessary preparations already made to look after you. Your dumbfoundedness must have been quite obvious for Mydei to take note, squeezing your hand with enough pressure and warmth to anchor you down and fill you with comfort before guiding you through the tunnel of awaiting servants ready to receive his orders.

While a little unnerving the palace staff’s ready acceptance and preparation for your arrival may have been, you cannot deny the flicker of warmth which surges when spotting something that reminds you of home.

That particular fruit you enjoy only found in your homeland? An abundance has been procured with the palace gardener equipped with all the necessities used to grow it, alongside a bed of your favourite assortment of flowers already beginning to show signs of blooming.

There was a certain dessert you enjoyed partaking in? Look no further, for the palace patissier has already mastered all the techniques needed to make it the most delicious version you have ever tasted!

Oh, you’re used to having a certain textile in each of your fabrics and certain colours are more to your preference? Don’t worry, the temporary bedroom used until your wedding is made to your liking, and once the wedding is complete your shared bedroom will have all the necessary arrangements!

Truly, the experience of having practically everything needed for your stay to be comfortable already prepared was an… interesting one, to say the least.

It doesn’t escape you, however, the manner in which everyone is rigid in demeanour and stiff with etiquette when in the presence of Mydei. Ducking their heads to avoid eye contact, tensing their bodies as though afraid one subtle movement will trigger his wrath, rushing away as quickly as possible once given their respective orders.

He doesn’t appear bothered; if anything, matters outside of you and battle don’t seem to move him at all. He merely regards everything as a duty to be carried out, an honour to uphold and see through so long as he bears the weight of his title. 

Despite his admitted nonchalance for most matters, you have seen him be expressive on several accounts.

Like that time you were both strolling through the extensive garden holding pleasant conversation about each other’s day, stopping to admire the roses and ready to sing the gardener’s praises, only to catch the smile and unfairly soft expression directed towards you. (Seriously, the difference a smile and relaxed expression can make on his features should be criminal.)

Or the days you choose to visit the training ground and catch the battle-hardened fervour of a warrior which radiate so starkly within his typically stoic demeanour, easily parrying and holding his own against even a large number of his knights rushing to best him, only to hastily avert your eyes when he takes note of your presence and amble his way towards you with a towel in hand. (Well, his torso is practically on full-display all day, but somehow seeing him entirely shirtless after a particularly gruelling training is a little… different.)

Not to mention that one night during your third month in Kremnos wherein an assassin managed to slip through surveillance and sneak into your room, only to be thwarted mere moments before the fatal strike as a sword pierced their torso, their cries of agony quickly silencing and the flecks of warmth clinging to your skin promptly discarded as the deafening hammering of your heart drowned out everything in the vicinity. You weren’t sure how long you were out of it for, but the image of Mydei’s distraught expression and uncharacteristic loss of composure is a sight you’re certain will never leave, much like the rare vulnerability found in his fragile, broken whispers of, “Not again... I thought I’d lost you again. Why must fate be so cruel? Please… Just this once, stay with me until the end.”

(You never really questioned how Mydei caught wind of the attempt or what he meant by his whispered words, too caught up in your near-death experience to properly process anything, but the immeasurable relief upon being embraced within his familiarity was undeniable as you melted into him, allowing him to stay by your side for the night and then the following nights soon after as his attentiveness only grew.)

The time from your first arrival has flown, and now, five months later, the long-awaited wedding is finally being held.

The ceremony itself was nothing too grand. Despite Mydei asking for your thoughts and preferences on how the ceremony should be held, the ideas he’d suggested aligned perfectly with your own preferences: a simple ceremony with the necessary guests in attendance for privacy, a ceremonial carriage ride through the capital to honour the matrimonial bond between you alongside quelling any uncertainties the citizens may have, and to end it all off with a banquet to diminish the doubt brewing from within the nobility of high society.

Thankfully, everything went off without a hitch. Your parents attended the ceremony and greeted you with a tearful embrace upon seeing you in your wedding attire. As it turns out, they will be staying as guests within the palace for about a week, all thanks to Mydei’s preparations. Apparently.

(Upon asking your parents who is taking care of the kingdom’s affairs in their place, you probably should have suspected it to be the trusted, overworked aide who has been by your father’s side since young. Despite his already cushy salary, he should get a raise for having to deal with all this.)

And as you stand here now, chatting idly with some of the knights in attendance who were present in the whole proposal fiasco, you find yourself believing that perhaps your new life here will not be as bad as you feared.

You have to admit, letting loose every now and then is rather rewarding. After all those mental and passive aggressive battles with some of the nobles before eventually gaining their respect and approval (you didn’t have strict heir training just to have nothing to show for it!), you can now relax and let the night pass by. With the knights talking joyfully amongst themselves, you’re sure the night will fly by.

Their topic of conversation shifts constantly, ranging from battle tactics to which is the best amongst savoury, sweet, or spicy to debates about whether that one maid and apprentice chef are secretly dating.

Eventually, the topic of conversation loops back around to your newly sealed marriage; you know, the whole premise for the current celebration. One of the knights, tickled a light pink in the face from the warmth of the venue and the drink half-emptied in hand, turns to you with a jovial grin.

“Y’know, until you came into the picture, I’ve never seen our king so happy and expressive. It’s a nice change.”

Another chimes, “Yeah! I’ve definitely seen him smile a few times when you visit the training grounds! Though he still glares daggers into my soul when we spar…”

“That’s because you suck and His Majesty gets a migraine just from the sight of your sloppy footwork.”

“Wha— hey! You’re the one with a weak swing and can’t even break the training dummy in one strike!”

“I’m telling you the material is tougher on the ones I’m given!”

A breathy laugh escapes you at their back and forth. Sometimes you forget how playful the knights can be outside of their intimidating demeanour, though you suppose their leader is similar in his own right.

Taking a light sip from your drink, the chatter of the knights slowly die down. Just as you’re about to ask if everything is alright, a warmth you have become able to identify looms over your back. It doesn’t take a genius to know why they stopped their bickering.

“What were you all discussing?” Mydei asks, moving to stand beside you with a drink of his own in hand. You weren’t expecting to see him until later, what with how swamped he appeared with greetings and talks of his own.

His knights seemed to have thought the same as you, if their apparent dumbfounded reactions were anything to go by.

“Oh, um, well…”

“We were, uh…”

“We were just chatting like good ole pals, haha…”

Stifling a laugh at their poor attempts, you decide it would be best to give them a helping hand. Mydei’s curious gaze certainly isn’t helping their case.

With an amused sigh you begin, “Nothing much. Just how much they admire and look up to you—”

“We were discussing how your dear spouse thoroughly enjoys the sight of your body at the training grounds!”

A deafening silence.

…You take back every nice thing you said about them. You hope Mydei exchanges all the training dummies except for his own for super-ultra-mega tough ones, just so they can feel the embarrassment you currently do when they are unable to break a mere training dummy.

First off, how did they even know this highly confidential information?! You most certainly were not openly ogling at your now-husband! (At least, you hope you weren’t…)

Second of all, here you were trying to help them save face from all their bickering, and what do you get in return? A loss of your own!

And third of all, that is blatant slander! In front Mydei, their king and commander, and your spouse, no less!

Ha ha. You don't know whether to laugh or cry at this turn of events.

In hopes of salvaging what remains of your thoroughly battered and bruised image, And there it appears, you quickly turn towards Mydei, a myriad of retorts ready to fire on the tip of your tongue. It fizzles out just as quickly as it appears upon what you find yourself gazing at. Though barely noticeable, the lingering remnants of his laughter which spill from that wretched curve of his lips never fails to speed up this traitorous heart of yours. And when his unabashedly amused gaze meets your own mortified one, your mind regains its former desperation.

Before you can think up a retort in a last-ditch effort to save face, he swiftly leans into your ear and whispers, “I would like to hear more about this. Perhaps you can enlighten me when we return to our quarters later.”

…Nevermind. Perhaps it is Mydei who should be getting the super-ultra-mega tough training dummy so he can taste humiliation for the first time in his life.

(However, despite the horrendously dizzying flush you are currently victim to, if it meant seeing his warm gaze and heart-melting smile more often then, perhaps, you wouldn’t mind embarrassing yourself in front of him every now and then.)

(Not too often, of course. That would be too much.)

if you enjoyed this, reblogs and/or comments are greatly appreciated <33

trivia !!

wanted to add this section in case some might be wondering why i went with the timeloop trope yet again (if u did not figure that out from the bits and pieces throughout the fic + mainly the assassination attempt scene then, um, oops. haha.) BUT !! i actually decided to do a spin of his lore for it.

so in his drip market post, it says:

Kremnos, swallowed by mist! City riven between chaos and war! The blood of patricide flows through its royal line, and its god bears the title of calamity.

The undying Mydeimos, the lion apart from the rest. O Chrysos Heir that seeks the Coreflame of Strife, you must suffer a thousand deaths, be bathed in blood on the path home, and bear the madness of fate alone, for one was must slay a god to become one. Iron-hooves pound across the wilderness for the campaign, and must eventually soak in the blood of their homeland.

and mydei is also known by the following aliases "the last prince" and "the undying". now all of this info is more than likely referring to his ability to survive torturous pain, as opposed to dying and and resurrecting a thousand times (or maybe i am right... who knows...), but my first thoughts went to how he had the ability to come back to a certain point in this past after the so-called fate drove him to madness which he alone must bear.

in this context, i wanted for him to be a king who suffered a thousand deaths, but lived through a thousand lives of the same never-ending fate, doomed to watch the fall and bear the madness and watch as you in each and every lifetime suffer at the hands of a fate he cannot save you from. and that is why he marries you because he knows you even if you do not know him and will always choose to lead the same path if it means he has you by his side once more.

...does this make sense? maybe it does, maybe it does not, but what matters is it made sense to me ;w;

oops got a little carried away there with lore and theories um !! haha !! anywho that is enough from me ,,, if u read this trivia then hi !! ty for sitting through and reading my deep dive into the crumbs of lore and how i put my own spin on it :'D

[honey-on-your-tongue]

FWB

Part two Logan Howlett x fem!reader Series masterlist

You and Logan avoid each other for as long as you can. If you know he's in the kitchen or in the simulation room, you will go around the entire mansion just so you don't run into him. If he hears or smells you're in a room he's about to go into, he won't. He'll leave and wait until you go somewhere else.

A few weeks come and go like this. You and Logan don't even look at each other and it's all fine.

Until you go on a mission. There's no avoiding each other now.

It's not even necessary for the two of you to go. Most likely, Storm could handle it on her own. But she needs backup and Scott is too out of it, so you both have to go with her.

You understand Scott. Really, you do. But you kinda wish he'd be in condition to go with Storm and Logan so you wouldn't have to.

That's the only thought that adds bitterness to your day as you get in the jet. And then you see Logan, sitting in his seat, and your mind goes blank.

You remember him, lying in his bed, hard cock in his hand, precum on the tip. You blush at the memory and glance away.

Flustered, you rush to your seat, sit and buckle up and make a point out of staring out the window. You can feel Logan's eyes on you, but you refuse to react at all. Last thing you need is him getting the wrong idea.

But what is the wrong idea? You can't deny that you felt strangely flattered, and also extremely turned on. You'd had to touch yourself that night before you even considered getting any sleep.

You try not to think about it as Storm takes the jet into the air.

The thing is, you and Logan work together and if things go too far, it'll either end real good or real bad.

Most likely, real bad.

You push the idea away and instead try to focus on the mission at hand. You're supposed to find a group of mutants gone astray, wreaking havoc around a small town. Supposedly, their headquarters is in a warehouse, the remnants of an abandoned factor in a long-since forgotten part of the woods. It's in the middle of nowhere.

Storm lands the jet far from where the warehouse is located and glances back at the two of you. “We'll camp here for tonight. We'll move in on them tomorrow morning, the earlier the better,” she says.

You each get to work, setting up your tents, readying your suits, preparing yourself mentally for the coming day.

Night falls. You're in your tent, reading by the light of a flashlight, when you hear something outside. At first, you worry that maybe the trouble-making mutants have found you, but then Logan's head pops in through the flap of your tent.

-

He'd spent hours debating on whether or not to approach you. He knew it would be easier to let the whole thing blow over, but you two wouldn't be able to work if this doesn't get resolved.

So. What better way to resolve things than by sneaking into your tent long after he knows Storm is asleep?

He didn't think it through. He realizes that when he sees the look on your face at his sudden appearance.

“You scared me,” you tell him, huffing softly.

“Sorry,” he mumbles sheepishly as he crawls into the tent, zipping the flaps closed. He sits across from you, awkward both because he's a rather large man in a tent and also because of the situation. “Didn't mean to scare ya. I just...wanted t'talk.”

“Oh,” you say quietly, a soft blush rising on your cheeks. “Yeah. I guess we...we do have to talk.”

He nods. “Okay. I'm...Look. I'm sorry. Really. About...the other night. I didn't mean—It was disrespectful of me. And I definitely didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I really am sorry. And, for what it's worth, I think you're gorgeous, in case that wasn't, y'know, evident.”

You hold his gaze for a moment before laughing softly. “It's okay. It's...Yeah, it's alright. I guess I should've knocked too, I just didn't imagine you'd be...doing...that.” You nod softly, another blush covering your cheeks.

“So we're...good?” he asks softly.

You nod. “We're good.”

He hums, a weight lifted off his shoulders. He glances at his lap before looking up to meet your gaze. He studies your face, your soft lips, your beautiful eyes, the perfect curve of your nose...

He's gawking without realizing it. He only comes to his senses when you laugh and bashfully ask, “What?”

He shakes his head, somewhat embarrassed, and says, “Nothin'. Just...you really are gorgeous.”

You giggle, a soft smile on your lips, and before he can stop himself, he reaches for you, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

You slowly fall silent, your eyes on his.

Logan takes a soft breath. “Let me kiss you, bub. Please, you have no idea how much I need it,” he whispers, his gaze falling to your plump lips.

You open your mouth to refuse, to remind him that you two work together and to tell him that you don’t want things to get weird. Instead, you hear yourself plafully say, “Only if you promise to never tell.”

Logan smirks and before you can proces your own fucking answer, he’s tugging you a little closer. “I promise,” he whispers before his lips crash onto yours.

He kisses you hungrily and demanding, his mind whirling from the taste of you.

He knows it's a bad idea. You know it's a bad idea. But the way he kisses you, the way his hands grab onto your body and tug you closer…

How are you supposed to resist?

He shamelessly shows you he wants you in the way his hands trace your body, the way he's basically panting.

He licks your neck, kisses it softly before sucking to leave a hickey. And you let him. God, you let him. How could you not? He's everything a girl could ever want.

He maneuvers you with ease, laying you down on the thin mattress before crawling on top of you. His fingers trace the skin of your waist, your hip, while his other hand holds him above you.

“This okay?” he asks you as his hand slips inside your pants, rubbing at your cunt through your panties.

You nod, breathing hitching. “Yeah.”

“’f you wanna stop, just lemme know,” he says, his mouth focusing on your neck as his fingers work your pussy until you've soaked through your underwear.

He's grinding his hips against your thigh meanwhile, his cock aching for more.

He pulls away for a moment to pull your pants off, then your panties. His eyes fall on your cunt, all slick with arousal, and his cock twitches.

Your scent is so sweet, so strong. He runs two fingers up through your folds, gathering the wetness before bringing them to his lips. He tastes you on his digits and loses whatever was left of his rational mind.

His head is between your thighs in a second, his mouth devouring your cunt like he's never gonna eat again.

You gasp, back arching, pretty mouth open in ecstasy, and Logan just has to watch.

He groans, his large hands moving your thighs to rest on his shoulders as his tongue slips up to your clit, flicking it a couple of times before replacing it with his nose. His tongue traces your entrance, licking up all your slick arousal.

Your fingers tangle in his hair and you don't pull at first, afraid of hurting him. But the more the pressure builds in your womb, the more you lose awareness of being gentle and pull his head where you want it.

Logan groans as you tug on his hair, his fingers digging into your thighs. He traces your clit with his teeth, relishing in the tremor that washes over you.

Smirking slightly, he does it again and again and again until you're pushing him away, moaning as you come on his mouth.

He helps you down from your high before pulling away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You good, bub?” he questions, hand gently caressing your thigh.

You nod, breathing heavy, body boneless from your orgasm. “’m fine.”

Logan adjusts his hard cock in his pants, his breath hitching at the little bit of friction. He's never wanted it this bad…

He stares at you, all spread out, half-naked, blissed out, and he loses it.

“Lemme fuck ya, bub,” he begs, eyes wild, pupils dilated. “Need to put my cock in that pretty cunt ‘f yours.”

You hold his gaze, cheeks flushed a pretty pink. “Do you have a condom?”

He grins. “You bought some f’r me, remember?”

You giggle softly. “I—Yeah, I did, huh?”

He licks his lower lip. “Does that mean I can fuck ya?”

You nod. “Yes.”

He almost growls in relief, his hands quickly undoing his pants. He tosses them aside, then grabs a condom from the pocket of his jacket. He takes the jacket off as well, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

He rolls the condom onto himself, his cock hard, the tip an angry red as precum drips from it.

He kneels in front of you, grabbing your legs and tugging you closer to him, making you gasp. His eyes darken at the sound and he jerks himself once, twice, before aligning his cock with your sopping entrance.

“You tell me if you want me to stop,” he says firmly.

“Okay,” you reply, breathless.

He holds your gaze for a moment before he thrusts into you, filling your sweet pussy smoothly.

You cry out, gasping, eyes fluttering shut.

He grunts as you clench around him tightly, his eyes rolling back. “Fuuuuuck, bub. Such a good pussy.”

He glances down as he starts thrusting, watching your cunt stretch to fit him. He grabs one of your legs and moves it onto his shoulder, allowing him to go deeper.

You squeal, eyes wide. “Fuck! Fuck!”

He fucks you hard and deep, the sound of skin on skin loud. He's grunting and groaning like an animal, his dog tags clinking with each thrust.

“Look at ya, bub. So pretty. Such a good girl for me,” he says, voice low and rough. “Look at that cunt. She's so greedy, look how she clenches around me.”

You whine, tears of ecstasy in the corners of your eyes. “L-Logan! Logan!” you moan, thighs quaking.

He chuckles. “Such a pretty slut f’r me. You enjoying yourself, bub?”

You whine, eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Logan!” you squeal.

His hand slips between you, thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in messy circles. He laughs lowly when your pussy tightens around him in response.

“Yeah, you're enjoying yourself.” He smirks, proud of himself, and he fucks you harder.

You begin to mumble, blubbering incoherently, unable to form words. You're just a gasping, sobbing, moaning mess and he's loving it.

“Gonna come already?” he mocks. “I just started with ya. Has no one ever fucked you this good?”

You squeal, gasping. All he can make out is a chorus of please please please please please that you repeat over and over again.

Eventually, he caves. “Yeah, alright. Go on, bub, you can come.”

His words are the final straw. Your orgasm hits you with so much force that you're left seeing starts for a minute or two. Your ears are ringing and your body is weak.

Logan wasn't prepared for how gorgeous you looked as you came. The sight of you along with the way you tightened around him sent him over the edge beforehand, making him gasp and grunt as he spills into the condom.

“Fuck,” he gasps, body shaking as he recovers from the climax. He glances down at you, watching you regain your breath.

Slowly, he lowers your leg from his shoulder before pulling out of you gently.

“You alright there?” he asks you, his knuckles rubbing your cheek tenderly.

You manage a weak nod and he smiles. “Can you talk, bub?”

You open your mouth to try and decide you cannot. You shake your head and he chuckles.

“Fucked dumb. ‘m gonna have a lotta fun with ya, bub. A lotta fun.”

---

Taglist

@nerrivm @rosiahills22 @d3vils-adv0c8 @thychuvaluswife @18lkpeters @daddy333 @e-nonsense @ch3rryblossms @ayamenimthiriel @thesecretlifeofmo @simming4sims @raideaters-blog @1cam8 @angelicbbsblog @giuliahowlett @lemonsquaredd @meadow-field @secretpandaconnoisseur @givenoutlaw @wunder-blunder @aredheadednerd @fictionalmen-dilflover @insanesociopath @m1cky-y-y @fictional-hooman

---

Blog masterlist

[viridwns]

The way I've been daydreaming about an innocent and go lucky darling slowly being caged by demon!Chrollo.

Also I wrote this at 2 AM so expect spelling mistakes and the plot making no sense. Tbh this sounds like regular Chrollo as well.

Demon!Chrollo, who was summoned by some low ranking mob boss. The idiot thought that with a demon by his side, he would quickly rise the ranks.

Demon!Chrollo, who manipulated said boss in summoning his troupe as well. After he didn't even need to flick his wrist or bloodsplatters already tainted the walls

Demon!Chrollo, who has waited millenias to be summoned again. Being locked away by the zoldyck's for messing with their affairs was a greater problem than Chrollo would've liked.

Demon!Chrollo, who kept a low profile, preparing him and his troupe to start hoarding things from the human world again. Especially rare ones that were not easy to obtain. He was crazy about that.

Demon!Chrollo, who slowly but surely gained power again, wreaking havoc on everyone who did him wrong. He stayed in the shadows while he did, pouncing on human souls when they least expected it. Oh, how he missed feeding of the people from earth.

Demon!Chrollo, who first saw you in your pretty white sun dress wearing a big white bow in your hair to match. You were sitting by a window reading in a smalltown bookshop. He had been planning on taking over this town soon enough. He needed to gain as much strength as he could before terrorizing the big cities like York New.

Demon!Chrollo, who grows curious of you. The bookshop itself was deserted. It also didn't help that you were wearing something so bright in contrast to the dim shop. Even the town was somber, so why were you dressed all pretty and light?

Demon!Chrollo, who couldn't help but focus intensly on your soft face. You honestly looked like the human version of a bunny. Is this what humans meant with cute?

Demon!Chrollo, who is amused by your lack of awareness. He's been standing in the middle of the shop for 10 minutes staring at you, and you were totally captivated by your book

Demon!Chrollo, who can't help but clear his throat. Biting back an involuntary smile when your head moves into his direction, but your eyes stay on your book a while longer.

Demon!Chrollo, who says he didn't mind when you apologize vigorously for making him wait once your focus shifted on him. He finds it strange how he didn't kill you yet. You were alone in a deserted place, this was the perfect opportunity, but yet he can't help to find out more a about you.

Demon!Chrollo, who finds out you were the owner of the shop, but business has been running slow. You were still weirdly upbeat, even when you were on the verge of going broke.

Demon!Chrollo, who buys a few books based on your recommendations, you just keep rambling on to him, not a care in the world. He lets you reach for books on the highest shelves, just to see you stand on your tippy toes. Your frilly dress lifting ever so slighty for him to see where exactly your stockings stop. Mid thigh. He swoops in last second, when you were about to get a ladder, leaning over you from behind and getting the book; apologizing for letting you do so much work.

Demon!Chrollo, who can't get enough of your soft smiles, small giggles and your sunny personality. When you're from a world that has only seen the worst of mankind, you were a welcomed refreshment.

Demon!Chrollo, who thinks it's stupid how fast you trust him, but it bothers him more to think about how quickly you would trust others. You just don't seem to think you can get hurt.

Demon!Chrollo, who takes the initiative to visit you every day. He must protect his angel.

Demon!Chrollo, who is surprised by how little you know about the actual world. You see the world in rainbows and glitter, not having seen what's out there beyond this smalltown life. When he told you one of his 'adventures' (leaving the not so pleasant details out) you couldn't get enough of it.

Demon!Chrollo, who has to hold back when you listen to him with your eyes wide and big, your mouth slightly parted, and your overhelming load of questions.

Demon!Chrollo, who secretly wants to corrupt you. Every time you wear a pretty bow or a white dress with lace stockings hugging your legs so nice, he can't help the urge to bend you over the cashier, lift up your so easily accessible dress to find out you are wearing silk panties and fuck you so hard your purity ring shatters right off your finger.

Demon!Chrollo, who wants to show you what he is, what an angel like you has been spending time with. He wants to drag you with him to hell, to consume your soul and make you like him.

Demon!Chrollo, who likes to show off just a fraction of his strength to you by moving furniture where you want it. Or who uses his speed to steal some of your stuff from right under your nose. You won't know it was him, you're too oblivious.

Demon!Chrollo, who never had such intense attractions to a human before. He wasn't inexperienced when it came to mates, but those were all to quench his needs. He couldn't help but want to lock you up and keep you at his side forever.

Demon!Chrollo, who uses his alluring voice to make you do what he wants. You won't even remember the next day. Thinking the bruising on your thighs is just from bumping into too many corners (even though some bruises look like very clear bitemarks of something that has sharp canines)

Demon!Chrollo, who won't penetrate you just yet. He wants you conscious for that. He uses his outwordly looks to seduce you. You're very playful, he finds. He never knows if you are flirting or just being...you. When you steal his book from him and he responds with cornering you, coming up all nice and close in your face, but you only respond with giggles, slapping the book in his chest and booping his nose before escaping his trap.

Demon!Chrollo, who also wants to keep you the way you are. Who wants to keep you as his little human who fills his day with a lovely smile. He wants you at his side as he destroys town after to town, as he becomes stronger and more powerful.

Demon!Chrollo, who keeps his cool with you but slowly cages you in. You don't leave the bookshop that much anymore, not when he is there most of the time, keeping you company and somehow taking care of your every need. He has taken a personal claim on your pure soul, and demons are very posessive of what is theirs.

[lisalamona]

𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 - V

Chapter V: Warrior Of The Mind

. Summary: Despite your brother's insistence, you stubbornly decided to join him and his men in the war. Now, are you prepared to face the consequences of your actions? . Pairing: Various x Fem! Reader (platonic) . Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, death, trauma, and other sensitive content. . Notes: I'm starting to upload this story here on tumblr, I am really sorry for clogging the tags.

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Masterlist

The buzz of the town was impossible to ignore. Voices swelled and clashed, rising higher and higher until they formed a chaotic symphony of excitement and unease. Conversations overlapped, each one trying to be heard over the next. The streets were alive with movement, a current of people flowing together toward what seemed like a singular destination, their footsteps quick and purposeful, filled with excitement and curiosity.

You, Polites, and Odysseus had just wrapped up your morning training and were wandering through the marketplace. The lively stalls were bursting with bright produce, fragrant herbs, and the scent of fresh bread wafting through the air. Your stomach growled faintly, and the sight of a vendor warming something delicious up over an open flame made Polites steer you all toward the stall.

While Odysseus lingered behind, his sharp eyes darting between the flurry of townsfolk, you leaned against the stall's counter, swapping bits of gossip with Polites. He chimed in with his own comments where he saw fit.

"—they want her to marry the shepherd's son," you said, the words heavy with disbelief. Polites shook his head, dropping a few coins into the vendor's waiting hand.

"Wasn't she in love with Damianos?" he asked, his tone tinged with quiet sorrow for the girl whose future had already been decided.

"I know! That's what makes it so heartbreaking!" you replied, your voice rising slightly with the injustice of it all.

Odysseus stood nearby, silent but attentive. As your conversation continued, his sharp eyes began to roam, scanning the market and the shifting crowd. His brow furrowed, the chatter of distant voices pulling his attention away from your words.

His gaze lingered on a growing crowd in the distance—close enough to see, though their voices were faint. Tilting his head, he strained to catch fragments of their murmurs.

At last, curiosity overtook him. "What is going on over there?" he asked, his voice cutting through your exchange like a blade. He turned to the vendor, who paused mid-motion to follow his line of sight. You and Polites, now drawn from your exchange, also turned to look where he was pointing.

"They say a wild boar is wreaking havoc near the edge of the forest, my prince. They've been trying to subdue it for hours," the vendor said, resuming the task of handing you three your food.

"Oh! We have to go see it!" you exclaimed, your voice brimming with excitement as you grabbed your brother's arm, shaking it with a childlike insistence. A small smile tugged at his lips, as though you'd just voiced the very thought he was entertaining.

Without a word, he took your hand, threading his fingers securely through yours to keep you close. The bustling crowd surged like a tide around you, but your brother carved a path through the chaos, guiding you toward the commotion.

Polites trailed not far behind, attempting to wedge himself into your other side—though he struggled to match the brisk pace you and your brother had set. "I—I don't think this is a good idea," he stammered, his breath hitching as he tried to keep up. "The poor creature is probably terrified."

You arrived at the gathering, where a crowd had formed in the open space between the edge of the forest and the boundary of the kingdom. They stood in a loose semicircle, their faces alive with anticipation. Some cheered, their voices rising like a victorious chorus, while others whispered in hushed tones, their words just out of your reach. Yet, what commanded your attention most was not the crowd but the boar. Its cries pierced the air, a sound unlike anything you had ever heard—raw, primal, and haunting. Overlaying this were the shouts of a few men, barking frantic directions to one another as they struggled to take the beast down.

Odysseus guided you and Polites toward the front of the crowd, weaving through the tightly packed throng of onlookers. He pushed forward with determined ease, clearing a path so you could all get a better view. Once at the front, you caught sight of the chaos just as one of the men was hurled to the ground by the boar. At this point, you weren't even sure if it was truly a boar, as the vendor had claimed. It looked nothing like the creatures you and your brother used to hunt with your grandfather—not that they ever let you get close enough to truly study them, but still.

The men struggled desperately against the boar, their movements a chaotic dance of fear and determination. One lunged with a spear, only to have it batted away by the beast's gnarled tusks. Another tried to flank it, his shouts drowned out by the boar's enraged snorts, but he was quickly forced back, tripping over himself as the creature charged. Their efforts seemed disorganized, and the boar, wild and untamed, appeared to grow more furious with each failed attempt to subdue it.

As you focused on the scene, you noticed Odysseus looking off into the distance, his expression thoughtful and almost puzzled. Following his gaze, you saw what had caught his attention—an owl perched silently on a branch. It was an odd sight; owls weren't common in Ithaca, much less during the day. Before you could speak, the bird spread its wings and took flight, disappearing into the bright sky.

You nudged Odysseus, pulling him from his reverie. "What are you staring at?" you asked, your voice cutting through the din of the crowd.

He blinked and shook his head, as though shaking off a strange thought. "Nothing," he muttered, his tone distracted.

Curious, you turned back toward the tree just in time to catch a glimpse of the owl's shadow retreating into the horizon. "You're weird," you teased with a playful smirk, your words colored with the casual sharpness of sibling banter.

Odysseus rolled his eyes but said nothing, his focus already returning to the fray before you.

The three of you lingered, watching the scene unfold as the men continued their struggle. Each attempt to tame the boar ended in failure, their exhaustion evident in their staggered movements and labored breaths. The beast was relentless, its every charge scattering the men like leaves in the wind.

Odysseus's brow furrowed in thought, and you recognized the gleam in his eyes—a spark of determination you'd seen countless times before.

"Oh, he's going to do it," you leaned close to Polites, your voice low as you whispered into his ear.

"Do what?" he asked, his brow furrowing as he tried to follow your gaze.

"Something stupid," you replied, your tone laced with dry amusement. "That's his 'something stupid' face."

Without a word, he stepped forward, weaving through the edge of the crowd until he reached one of the men standing off to the side. This man looked weary, his shoulders slumped, his face streaked with dirt and sweat. A few weapons lay discarded at his feet, a sign of desperate measures tried and failed.

"Excuse me," Odysseus said, his voice steady but tinged with urgency. "I have an idea. Do you mind if I try something?"

The man looked at him, his gaze a mixture of skepticism and fatigue. He sighed heavily, running a hand over his face before nodding. "Sure, kid. Be careful," he replied, his voice rough but not unkind. He stepped aside, motioning toward the weapons.

Odysseus flashed a quick, reassuring grin and picked up a spear, its shaft worn but sturdy. You exchanged a glance with Polites, both of you silently wondering what, exactly, your brother had in mind.

Odysseus beckoned Polites to his side, his voice low but firm. "I'll need your help for this," he said, his confidence unwavering. Polites nodded, stepping forward without hesitation, though you could see the flicker of nerves in his eyes.

The weary man called out to the others, his voice cutting through the noise. "Hey! Over here! The kid's got a plan!"

The men turned, their faces a patchwork of exhaustion and skepticism. They exchanged incredulous glances, some muttering under their breath. To them, Odysseus was just a boy—a bold one, perhaps, but still a boy. What could he possibly do that they hadn't already tried?

You followed close behind, eager to see what your brother had in mind, your heart pounding with both curiosity and concern. But before you could step any closer, Odysseus turned to you, his expression serious. "Stay back," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"But I can help!" you protested, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

He shook his head, his resolve unyielding. "No. It's too dangerous."

Frustration bubbled up inside you, threatening to spill over. Before you could protest again, Odysseus's gaze shifted past you, his expression firm and commanding. "Look after her. Don't let her get near," he said, addressing a boy around his age who stood nearby.

The boy blinked, momentarily taken aback by the sudden order, but he straightened quickly and nodded. "Yes," he replied, his tone hesitant but obedient.

You shot him a glare, your annoyance directed as much at Odysseus as at this newfound guard. "I don't need looking after," you muttered under your breath, crossing your arms in defiance.

The boy, clearly uncomfortable, avoided your gaze but stepped closer, his presence a quiet reminder of Odysseus's command. You bit back another retort, resigned to watching from the sidelines as your brother and Polites prepared to act.

Sensing your tension, the boy hesitated for a moment before attempting to make conversation. "Hello, I'm Eurylochus," he said, his tone cautious but friendly.

"Uh huh," you replied absentmindedly, barely glancing at him. Your focus remained fixed on the back of your brother's head, as if staring hard enough might make him change his mind.

Eurylochus shifted awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable with your lack of interest. Picking up on his unease, you sighed and softened your tone. "I'm sorry. I'm [Name]. It's just... my brother drives me crazy sometimes."

"I'm sure he does it because he cares about you," Eurylochus offered, though his words felt more like an attempt to fill the silence than genuine reassurance.

"I know," you admitted, your frustration slipping into your voice. "But he keeps acting like I'm made of glass, like I'm going to shatter if something goes slightly wrong."

Eurylochus glanced at you, his expression earnest but a little awkward. "Well... you look strong," he said, the compliment tumbling out clumsily.

You blinked, caught off guard by his words, then chuckled softly. "Thank you? So do you," you said, reaching out to pat his arm in a gesture of affirmation.

For the first time, a faint smile crossed his face, and the tension between you eased just a little.

──────🗡️──────

Odysseus crouched down, tracing the end of the spear in the dirt as he quickly outlined his plan to the men. They listened with skeptical eyes, but his confidence and precision seemed to sway them. The goal was simple but dangerous: corner the boar into a spot where it could be struck without risking any injuries to any of them.

The group spread out, encircling the boar cautiously. Polites, holding a shield and spear, was positioned as bait to distract the beast. Odysseus and a few others crept into strategic positions, their weapons at the ready. You watched from the edge of the crowd, heart pounding, as the plan began to unfold.

Polites took a shaky step forward, banging his spear against the shield to draw the boar's attention. The beast's ears twitched, and it let out an earsplitting snarl before charging toward him. Polites stood frozen, the shield trembling in his grip as the boar bore down on him with terrifying speed.

"Polites, move!" Odysseus shouted, but his friend was paralyzed with fear.

Eurylochus, standing next to you, didn't hesitate. He sprinted toward Polites, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him out of the boar's path just in time. The boar's tusks grazed the edge of Polites's shield as the two boys tumbled to the side, the impact leaving a gouge in the dirt where he had stood moments before.

'Oh, so he gets to join?!' you thought, utterly dumbfounded.

With the boar momentarily distracted, Odysseus seized his chance. He lunged forward, spear in hand, aiming for the beast's exposed side. The spear found its mark, sinking deep into the boar's flank. The creature let out a guttural scream, thrashing wildly as it tried to shake off the pain.

But it wasn't over. In its frenzy, the boar twisted and lashed out with its tusks, catching Odysseus across the thigh as he stepped back. He stumbled, blood staining his tunic as the gash began to bloom crimson.

Gritting his teeth, Odysseus steadied himself, gripping the spear tighter. With one final, precise thrust, he drove the weapon deeper, ending the boar's fight. The creature collapsed with a heavy thud, its labored breathing fading into silence.

The crowd erupted into cheers, but you barely heard them. Your eyes were fixed on Odysseus as he pressed a hand to his wounded leg, trying to stem the bleeding. Eurylochus and Polites ran to his side, the latter pale and shaken but alive.

"You did it," Polites said, his voice a mix of awe and guilt.

Odysseus offered a faint grin, though his face was pale with pain. "We did it," he corrected, his gaze sweeping over the group. But as the adrenaline faded, he winced, leaning heavily on Eurylochus for support.

You surged forward, no longer willing to stay on the sidelines. "Let me see that," you said, kneeling to inspect his wound despite his protests. "We need to get you to a medic."

──────🗡️──────

Once your brother's wound had been cleaned and stitched, your group began the walk back to the palace. The atmosphere was lighter now, the earlier tension melting away into teasing and banter.

"I can't believe you actually listened to me this time," Odysseus said, his tone playful and tinged with surprise.

"I can't believe you were stupid enough to do what you did, but here we are," you shot back, your voice dripping with mock exasperation.

"Aww, come on!" he said, grinning as he lunged to pull you into a hug.

"Ew, no! You're all sweaty and bloody!" you protested, trying to dodge his outstretched arms. But it was no use; he managed to trap you, his embrace sticky and suffused with the smell of sweat and iron.

"Ugh, Odysseus!" you cried, squirming in his grasp, the cold, clammy feel of his skin making you want to gag. Your futile attempts to push him off only made him tighten his hold, laughing as he did so.

"Polites, help me!" you pleaded, casting an imploring look at your friend.

"Why?" Polites replied, smirking. "This is adorable."

"It's gross!"

"Alright, alright," Odysseus said, finally releasing you. But before he let you go completely, he gave your hair a rough ruffle, leaving it thoroughly disheveled.

As you resumed your journey to the palace, you noticed the boy from earlier, Eurylochus, walking in the opposite direction. Without thinking, you called out to him. "Hey! Come with us!"

He stopped, looking a little startled. "Oh, I wouldn't want to intrude—"

"Nonsense!" Odysseus interjected, his grin infectious. "You saved our friend! The least we can do is invite you to come with us."

Eurylochus hesitated for a moment before offering a small smile and falling into step beside you.

Polites sidled up to you, nudging your shoulder and wiggling his eyebrows in a way that made you frown. "What?"

"Nothing," he replied, the smirk on his face betraying him.

You rolled your eyes but said nothing, and the four of you continued toward the palace, the day alive with the soft hum of camaraderie.

[tomionefinds]

Fluff/Soft Fics

Things are hard. Here are some softer Tom, some humorous, and some fluffy fics to cuddle with. Graphic by Mod April - TF Team

Just Another Girl Alone at the Bar by Spork_in_the_Road

M | Complete | 8k

“Oh Ron-Ron, you’re too funny,” a feminine voice says, giggling. Hermione thinks she might vomit. In which Hermione pretends Tom is her boyfriend until he actually is.

Hot Lips by nauticalparamour

E | One-shot | 3k

When Tom Riddle finds out that Hermione Granger has a phone sex line, his first inclination is to use it to blackmail her. But, once he gets her talking, he doesn't want it to end.

Forever Means Forever by cocoartist

T | Complete | 7k

If she ever saw Unspeakable Number 37 again she would kill him with her bare hands: Hermione's research into the Veil has an unexpected side-effect. COMPLETE.

A Naughty Niffler by bunnystealsyourcarrots

E | One-shot | 2k

Hermione finds herself sucked into an unknown world with an old familiar face

Youth in Retrospect by provocative_envy

E | One shot | 8k

She’s buying a box of condoms when she meets him. “Those are shit, you know,” he says, jerking his chin at the pale purple box in her hand. “Can’t feel anything.” She stares at him for a moment too long. The bell above the door jingles merrily as a rowdy group of schoolboys enters the store. “Excuse you,” she replies, cheeks turning pink.

Nerve Damage by januarywren

T | Complete | 6k

“Working late again?” Hermione asked, leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, her raised eyebrow daring him to make a smart remark. That look had sent more than one ex fuming—but not him. Never him. Tom glanced up from his paperwork, his usual mask of indifference giving way to a slow, lazy smile. “Someone has to keep things running smoothly around here. I thought you’d be fast asleep by now, Miss Granger.” She let her gaze wander over the surprising disarray of his desk, piled high with case files and pages dotted with notes in his precise handwriting. She'd teased him more than once about his borderline obsessive need for order, how every pen, every scrap of paper, had its place. But she didn't mention it now or comment on the faint stain on his collar. Losing a patient did things to a person—things no textbook or professor could ever prepare them for. House M.D. Inspired AU | There’s a sickness between Hermione and Tom that neither has any desire to cure. (It isn't love. It isn't. 🖤)

communication errors by esotyric (devilrie)

T | Complete | 7k

sender: tmriddle@walpurgis.net recipient: hermionegranger@gryffinsdor.org subject: Today’s Meeting Granger – Attached is the dry-cleaning bill for the shirt you ruined when you threw your tea at it. I’m not sure if you noticed, but I happened to be wearing the shirt at the time. You are lucky it was cold. Pay the bill and I won’t sue you for assault. Regards, Thomas Marvolo Riddle CEO of Walpurgis Corporate sender: hermionegranger@gryffinsdor.org recipient: tmriddle@walpurgis.net subject: re: Today’s Meeting Riddle – I did notice, because unlike you, I can identify when something is being inhabited, you forest-destroying monster. You do not require a dry cleaner to get herbal tea out of a shirt. The shirt was black, the tea was camomile, and you have no grounds on which to stand nor sue. Your company, however, WILL be exposed for the havoc it is wreaking upon our natural world. Sincerely, Hermione Jean Granger CEO of Not being a Twat

Domestic Bliss by airgloweffect

M | one shot | 693

A snapshot into the life of Tom and Hermione Riddle.AU

Avada Kedavra Anonymous by Speechwriter

K+ | Complete | 8k

No one missed Riddle's pale fist tightening around the useless wand in his lap. "I am Tom," he ground out. "I am here for the sole reason that the alternative was community service." / Hermione moderates a post-Avada Kedavra support group. Chaos ensues.

A Nose that Can See by Colubrina

Hermione Granger has found herself inexplicably tossed back into time to Tom Riddle's Hogwarts. And he's a Veela and, wouldn't you know it, she's his mate. Could life get worse? But he seems to have an endless supply of out-of-season fruit so it can't be all bad, right? Tomione. Major character death, musical theater, and all that fruit. COMPLETE. Hermione Granger has found herself inexplicably tossed back into time to Tom Riddle's Hogwarts. And he's a Veela and, wouldn't you know it, she's his mate. Could life get worse? But he seems to have an endless supply of out-of-season fruit so it can't be all bad, right? Tomione. Major character death, musical theater, and all that fruit. COMPLETE.

Tommy Played Guitar by PacificRimbaud

E | One shot |3k

Tom Riddle takes his coffee black and plays in a rock and roll band.

Playing Cupid by Meowmers

M | Complete | 14k

"I'm beginning to think that I would love to hear you scream." Tomione. Regency AU. Rated-M.

A Four Letter Word by elizabethriddle

E | One shot | 4k

Tom Riddle was not impulsive. He was a planner. He never did anything without carefully considering all possible outcomes and controlling all of the variables. And he never let emotions impact his decisions. He had planned, meticulously, for the post as DADA Professor. How did it all go so wrong?

Sailor Trouble by The-Empress-of-Snark (uleanblue)

Not Rated | Complete | 9k

Hermione Granger attempts to restore the Founder's Relics, with unexpected results.

you did some bad things, but i'm the worst of them by coffeepolariod

E | Complete | 22k

“You want to watch your back, Miss Granger,” Dolohov gestured to Tom with his head. “This man won’t go easy on you, won’t entertain your parlour tricks, and most definitely will not hold back as he tears your confidence down: brick by brick.” or: Hermione Granger needs to win this poker game but Tom Riddle is there at every turn.

Tempora Abducto by Flaignhan (almost anything by this author)

T | Complete | 53k

Inconveniently it's the things that need fixing the most which are often irreparable.

[peachy-writings]

PARADOX | Viktor AU Pt. 2

Summary: With access to a lab, Viktor and reader can begin creating a method to get him back to his original timeline. Meanwhile, reader’s past wreaks havoc in Zaun and more context into their true relationship with Viktor comes to light.

Content Tags: Gender neutral reader with They/Them pronouns (no use of Y/N), Kinda follows S2 Pt. 2 canon, Angsty, Vi and Jayce deceased in this universe, Strangers to Friends?

Note: Not edited!! This will definitely be getting its own masterlist because it’s definitely becoming a whole ass series. I’m getting super into all the lore I’ve been imbedding into the characters.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

The keys to the lab drop into Viktor’s dainty hand with a finality in the way they clink against one another. Metal on metal bounces off the hallway walls like the resonating ring of the town’s bell tower. Professor Heimerdinger and you share a concerned look as Viktor’s hand shakes whilst unlocking the door.

“It is quite the journey to get here from Zaun,” the Yordle remarks.

“Yes,” you concur, the three of you entering the large room together, “Viktor is looking worse for wear today.”

“I can hear you,” the aforementioned snarks. “And I am perfectly fine.”

He is already settling down in a chair at one of the desks, fiddling with the various instruments supplied by the university.

“If you say so…”

Heimerdinger claps his small hands together, eyes widening as he goes into a long winded speech. Viktor and you nod along as the professor scurries around as he speaks about safety and the scheduled check-ins he will be abiding by. He preaches the value of never underestimating the power of magic. Many people have attempted to harness it, some with good intentions, others the latter; but all have failed to do so effectively.

“Devastation is the only conclusion to the story of a great mind attempting to master the powerful forces of The Arcane.”

The way he speaks of it, of the dangers wielding so much power can have, causes a chill to trickle down your spine. Not because of the sentiment itself, but the look in Viktor’s eyes when this subject is brought up. An expression that you can only explain as the pain of having learned such a lesson first hand—or maybe witnessing this happening to someone else.

Heimerdinger leaves the two of you alone in the lab. Silence caresses the tall walls and Viktor seems to already be in his groove, gathering materials on his desk like a bear preparing for its hibernation.

“Eager to start?” You ask as you pace the extent of the room, taking everything in.

Large pipes loop in and out of the walls, lending an industrial feel to the room, and a long desk stretches the width of two walls. On the far side is a smaller desk that Viktor immediately gravitated toward. This lends to a personal theory that he is more of the solitary type. You eventually land in front of a window that overlooks a good part of Piltover from above.

“Indeed. I must get an idea of what materials we have so that I can create the blueprint mockup.”

You hum in acknowledgment. “We should ask Heimerdinger if he could provide dorming for you. I know you refuse to acknowledge it, but these long walks aren’t feasible for you.”

The sounds of his tinkering halt and your eyes meet his when he spins around in his seat. “My leg will not stop me from doing what I want to do. I have walked many miles and will walk many more.”

“While I understand that, this is a longevity thing, not a dig at your disability,” you state firmly, holding his gaze until he relents and tears his eyes from your face. Though he does not move otherwise, body still pointing at you. The conversation is clearly not over.

“How am I to know that the next time you return to Zain won’t be the last time I see you?”

You guffaw in disbelief. “I’ve survived long enough in my city, there’s no need to worry about me like that.”

“No.” For as firm as the word is when it leaves his thin lips, there is a vulnerability in the silence that follows. “I am asking if I can trust that you will come back?“

He wants to say more. You can tell by the way his lips part and then close twice before he dares to look at your face again. His insecurity takes you by surprise. It also offends you just a bit.

“Why would you think I’m that kind of person? Surely you know my character from being around me in your world… As unfortunate as it may be for my sake, I can’t just abandon you.” You turn toward the window, thoughtful. “Not until I have all the answers to my questions.”

Viktor huffs a small laugh, seemingly amused. You let him bask in this confession, if only to placate him into staying at the university. Maybe a little space from him will do you good. His presence is slowly growing on you, and you want to reject it before it can bud into anything. You cannot let yourself care for somebody who has a timer ticking down on when they will leave you behind.

Viktor is working on his list whilst you stay attached to the window, enamored by the details of the city. It disgusts you that this place thrives whilst the under city lives in its shadow, but you still can’t help but to marvel at what you had in another life.

As your eyes map out the streets and count the many people on them, a blue mass catches your attention. You squint at the bridge to the city, watching as a cloud of vibrant, powder blue grows bigger. Your stomach drops, throat tightening as realization takes over. Back when you were younger, after Vi passed, Powder showed you the flares her sister made her.

“She told me that if I ever needed her, to set one off and wait,” the girl explained to you as she fiddled with the canister.

“I will take on that promise,” you vowed, to which she smiled sweetly through budding tears.

In the present, your feet move quicker than you can think, pounding down the tiled university floors. Viktor says something when you fly out of the room, but the pounding heartbeat in your ears drowns it out. All you can think about is Powder, that sad little girl, crying out for your help.

The flare canister clatters to the ground when you nearly crash into Powder, squeezing her in a hug. She hugs you back tightly and you struggle to let go because you know that bad news awaits the space that will separate you.

“It’s your father,” she explains, eyes full of grief. “He sent some of his goons to find you and they burnt down your house before anyone knew what was going on.”

“They what?”

All of the paranoia you had been working on letting go of comes back tenfold, head spinning with multiple realizations crashing into one another like dominos. They found you, they intended to do something terrible to you, and now you have no home. Again.

“I’m sorry,” Powder breathes. “Vander and Silco arranged a search for the culprits, but I don’t think we’ll be able to find them. I’m glad you were in Piltover, it could’ve been so much worse if you were there.”

Her voice shakes, and you can only imagine how traumatizing this all must have been for her. “Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault,” you soothe, and then you pause to think for a moment. “I have to go investigate.”

“But they could still be in the city!”

“I know, but I have to do something. That was my home.”

Hesitantly, the girl nods, and the two of you make the journey back down to Zaun. Realization hits as soon as you see what little remains of your dwelling. Powder watches silently as you scrounge through the rubble for anything of meaning you can recover. You find the city alarm invention Viktor mentioned on the first night you met, and you carefully pick it up. The metal is scorched, the face more lopsided than usual, but it’s still somewhat recognizable.

What will you do now? Where will you stay if not your home? The thought of residing in the upper city makes your skin crawl. Being up there is already an internal battle of ethics for you, but it may now be your new primary stay. If not for anything but your temporary safety.

It’s clear that you are being hunted and those wretched people have information on you. If they already have their eyes on you, the safest option for you, Powder and Viktor would be to stay within the safety Piltover offers. At least until you can figure out what your next move will be. Hopefully that happens before your quest to get Viktor home ends.

After spending a long while mourning the place you’ve called home longer than anywhere else, you talk to Powder and quell her worries. You are sure that you can ask Heimerdinger to make accommodations for you as well as Viktor—he’s already offered—so you have options. While you don’t fully explain what the two of you are doing in the city, she is satisfied that you have somewhere safe to go.

You spend a couple more hours in your city, friends and neighbors give you kind sentiments and some goods for your troubles. An impromptu gathering takes place at The Last Drop and you get a couple of free drinks on the house. You try to enjoy your time as much as possible before Vander basically forces you to get back to the safety of Piltover.

A tearful goodbye with Powder at the same spot on the bridge and you’re off to the city with the little tangible items you still own on your back.

“Where on earth were you?” Viktor immediately questions as soon as you get back to the lab, eyebrows furrowed so deeply they almost eclipse his irises.

Him and Heimerdinger seemed to have been having a conversation before you arrived. Both do a double take of your appearance and you realize you must look an absolute mess. You walk over to the long desk and drop your backpack onto the surface, sighing before turning to the two of them.

“I got a distress signal from Powder… My home was burned down.”

“Oh my,” the professor remarks. “While this is a great tragedy, I do have a dorm room just down the hall set aside. Viktor and I were just speaking about this. If you don’t mind sharing, you are both more than welcome to stay there.”

You nod numbly. “Thank you.”

“I will leave you to it then. And Viktor, those supplies will be requested immediately.”

Without another word, the Yordle scurries out of the room and you slump into the nearest seat. You drape an arm over your eyes and lean back, pulling yourself together for the time being. The clicks of Viktor’s cane on the floor barely register in your frazzled mind, and then you feel a hand on your shoulder.

Slowly, you uncover your eyes and find him sat in front of you on a rolling chair with such concern in his gaze that your heart aches. You can’t break, not in front of him. A deep breath clears your mind for the time being. Compartmentalization does happen to be a talent of yours.

“Are you okay?” He asks softly, that look in his eyes too much for you to bear.

You lash out, compartmentalization out the window in an instant. “What do you think?”

A pregnant pause as he readjusts his grip on his cane and pulls the handle inward, toward his chest. “That’s fair.”

You huff, indignant as you push off the floor to gain some distance from him. It’s petulant the way you spin so your back faces him.

“Was it… on purpose?”

“Absolutely,” you mumble, dismissively. “That fucker is out to get me once again.”

“Who are you talking about? I truly don’t appreciate your secrecy,” Viktor drolls out, as though the words themselves exhaust him to speak.

You chuckle, back still facing him. “I’ll tell you when you answer my questions from yesterday. And don’t act dumb, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

A glance at him over your shoulder satisfies you just a bit. Viktor looks extraordinarily annoyed, but you know he can’t deny the fairness of such a trade. For a single moment, you think you’ve backed him into a corner, but you should expect more of such a sharp mind when it comes to a debate.

“How about we get to know one another a little better then? Before we go diving into the deep, dark depths of our pasts.”

“You probably already know about my fucked up family, that’s not fair,” you reply, one foot gently turning your chair to the side, so that you can see him from the corner of your eye.

His head shows side to side, and his voice softens as he says, “No. I don’t. That’s one thing you never got to open up to me about.”

More questions about his relationship with the other version of yourself arise. If you were close enough to be romantically involved, how couldn’t you have gotten that deep? You suppose that the ferocity in which you hold your past close to your heart could still exist, even if you were to have lived a better life.

“Tell me,” you say, fully turning toward Viktor, “how did we meet? Maybe we can start there.”

He smiles softly and settles in his chair, getting comfortable for the long yarn he intends to spin.

Jayce Talis was a vision of charisma and ambition since he was a child, the perfect foil to yourself. Yet somehow, he was attached to you by the hip like a protective brother. And his mother—that sweet woman—saw you for what you could become and nothing less when she came across you. A tween begging for food on the streets, the same age as her own son. She couldn’t keep her heart from melting at the sight, and her past struggles ignited the decision to take you in as her own.

She was like an aunt, never wishing to replace your parents—not that you wouldn’t wholeheartedly accept her as so—while Jayce became your closest friend very quickly. Going from an extroverted only child to having a new sibling caused him to take on the task of drawing you out of your shell. He would ask you every question under the sun, wanting to know everything about you.

Jayce was the only person you had told about everything that happened before. About your retched father and missing mother. Nary a judgement came through in his words nor his expression. He didn’t look down on you, and for that you loved him dearly.

He knew who he was through and through from the start. His passion for science and his visions for what the world could be drew vivid images on the horizon in your mind. He would create magnificent little gizmos and you would always be enamored by his ingenuity. You liked to doodle silly faces on his contraptions, and instead of being mad that you tampered with his things, he would only encourage you to draw more.

Eventually, he went down the science route and you went into the arts. You attended the same university, but your classes and living arrangements were pretty far from one another. Once the whole Hextech explosion destroyed his Penthouse and nearly took his life, his mom pushed you to look after him more.

This is when you met Viktor, actually picking a fight with him when he came to talk about Jayce’s invention after the authorities confiscated all of his work. You have always been a hothead, naturally. After spending the better years of your life being fiercely protected by Jayce, it was your turn to become that person for him after such an incident.

You were very cold toward Viktor in the beginning, not trusting this stranger and worried about the dangers of their joint project. In an attempt to quell these concerns, you invested as much time as you could into helping them with it. You got to keep an eye on the boys and maintain Jayce’s safety.

Little did you know, it was you who was in the most danger.

Viktor was enamored by how bright you were, how you could come up with such ingenious safeguards for each stage of their inventions. You were practically the safety committee, which led you inherently to look after Viktor as well. Since you would opt to stay in the lab when Jayce was spirited away to do PR, you would spend this time cleaning up and organizing materials. Getting closer to Viktor was inevitable during these times. The two of you slowly built a friendship and would stay up late in the lab, working on your own projects while he did his work. Silent but comfortable; alone together.

As a matter of course, you would talk about any and everything when it became late and the drowsiness loosened your lips. During one of these such nights, you ended up confessing your budding feelings to Viktor, then immediately took it back and told him never to speak of it again.

Of course the ever mischievous Viktor took every opportunity to tease you behind Jayce’s back. You would always scold him, telling him that it would only lead to bad things if you got together. He said he was willing to risk it and sealed the statement with a kiss. You felt ethereal in that moment, like a star sparking in the night sky. It was a special moment, the first kiss the two of you shared, but you were right to worry.

This little budding romance was always fated to be a tragedy.

last chapter here • next chapter here

Taglist: @eternalsams @cosmicporos @omniscientsock @night-fall-moon

[homoquartz]

it's the first day of fall!!

🍂🍃🍁🍂

i am back, i am alive, this is the season when i scrape and claw my way from the grave to wreak havoc on the heterosexual.

i got my queer, season-appropriate shows lined up. i have pumpkin spice muffin mix and scented pinecones locked and loaded. i am prepared to be a problem.

all hail homoween!! 🎃💀

[lucisfavoritedemon]

Through The Portal: Chapter 3

Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Stan finally learns what really happened to Y/n back in 1973. Stan realizes the sweet girl he once knew isn’t as bubbly as she used to be, but is determined to bring her back however he can.

Pairing(s): Stan x reader (platonic present, romantic past), Ford x platonic!reader, Dipper x best friend!reader, Mabel x best friend!reader Bill x reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of hopelessness, mental manipulation, unrequited love, flashbacks.

A/N: The events and ideas are based on a theory I have about the Nightmare Realm. This is in no way canonically true, just my theories based on what we canonically know about the Nightmare Realm.

“Wait, New Jersey?” Mabel and Dipper questioned simultaneously.

I nodded as Stan gave me a look of, ‘don't tell them just yet’. I guess in a way Stan was right, I probably shouldn’t tell them about the fact I technically am 61 years old. So I decided to tell them a little white lie.

“Yeah, I grew up in New Jersey. Just like Stan and Ford did.”

“So, how did you end up here? Did you work with Ford?” Mabel asked curiously.

“Don’t be silly Mabel, she’s not old enough to have worked with Ford on the portal.” Dipper interjected.

“Then you must be his daughter!” Mabel beamed.

“No! I-I’m not Ford’s daughter.” I quickly tried to correct her.”

“Then are you Stan’s daughter?” Mabel questioned.

“No, I have no relation to them at all. It’s a long story that I’m not ready to share just yet.”

“But, you do know Stan. You said that you were sorry you left. So, what happened?” Dipper asked, ready to write it down on a notepad as if he was interviewing me.

Stan walked up behind the two kids before I had the chance to protest, “why don’t you two go wreak havoc or whatever somewhere else. I need to speak with Y/n.”

Mabel and Dipper groaned, but didn’t protest as Stan shoved them out of the gift shop. Stan walked back over to the chair he was sitting in. He gave a questioning look before he finally spoke up, “so, now that the kids are gone, tell me what you meant by you didn’t mean to walk through that stupid portal.”

I take a deep breath before speaking, “look, Stan, it was an accident. I was just doing some test runs on the mechanics. I was not prepared for it to start up and suck me in. I spent years trying to get back to you. I knew you’d be upset with me…I didn’t want to leave…” I answered.

“Then why were you building it in the first place!?” Stan was agitated.

“I…I wanted to win a Nobel prize or a huge patent so you and I could get out of that town. I wanted to give you the one thing you always talked about…to sail around the world on the adventure of a lifetime.

“I-I know I’m not the person you wanted to do that with…but I wanted to make you feel like you finally had someone who cared about you. I did care about you, more than you knew Stan.” I finally confessed.

Stan couldn’t even think of what to say. All these years he had blamed me for leaving him alone in the world again, but he didn’t know I had planned it out thoroughly. He felt like a jerk for judging me without knowing my true plan.

“Y-you were doing it…for me?”

I nodded, “I knew that either you could use the money to sail around the world, or bring the fortune to your family and make up for your mistake. Either way, I didn’t want the money or the fame, I was doing it because I thought it would make you happy.”

“And now I’m the jerk for blaming you after all these years…and I never really asked why you were doing it.”

I smile softly at hsi response. It wasn’t completely wrong. I wanted Stan to be able to rid himself of his guilt and move past his mistake. I had also been tricked into doing so, but I wasn’t ready to confess to him that if I had succeeded that he never would have gotten what I wanted him to get out of it.

“I think I was more upset that I lost the girl I was crushing on more than anything…” Stan confessed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“W-wait…y-you were crushing on me?” I was taken aback by his confession. I knew Stan liked me, but I never imagined he thought of me in that light.

He just nods, “that seems like a lifetime ago though. I’m different now than I used to be.”

“You and me both…” I look down at the floor knowing I probably opened a huge can of worms that I won’t be able to stick back in.

“I could tell. Whatever you saw in there, whatever you went through, must have been rough for you.”

“You have no idea.”

I floated in a daze. This place had no gravity, no sense of time, it was utter chaos.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t dear ol’ sweet Y/n. What brings you here sweetheart?” Bill’s voice seemed to boom as it had really nothing to bounce off of.

“B-Bill? Where am I?”

“You’re in my dimension. Too bad your invention failed because if it hadn’t this would be released upon your dimension, and you and I could rule over everything! I could just imagine it.”

“Y-your dimension? This is where you live?” I was horrified at what I saw.

Bill was surrounded by strange and weird beings of chaos. I couldn’t believe I had been tricked. Had I truly succeeded, it would have meant the end of the world as I knew it, everyone I cared about would have been put in danger, and It would have been all my fault.

Bill starts to laugh his demented laugh, “yes! Welcome to the Nightmare Realm! A place where chaos reigns! Too bad you failed med, I could have used a partner in crime to help create chaos with me.”

“You tricked me! I trusted you!”

“If I told you my true plans you would have backed out of it. I had no choice, sweetheart.”

“Stop calling me that! I’m not your sweetheart anymore, Cipher! You tricked me, and almost made me destroy my world!”“Not my sweetheart anymore huh?” He looked like he was starting to get angry.

I knew I needed to get away. I started to float away from him as he called his henchmaniacs to catch me. I floated towards an asteroid field and was able to avoid getting caught. I slipped into the hole looking for sanctuary. That’s when I realized I wasn't alone.

After Stan and I talked things out, I needed to find something mindless to get my mind off of everything. I decided to try and get to know the young Pines twins better. They were both sitting in the living room watching TV.

“Hey kids.” I say softly, announcing my presence.

“Y/n!” They both exclaimed excitedly.

“I thought Stan was going to tell you to stay away from us or something?” Mabel blurted out.

I giggle softly, “no, Stan doesn’t mind me trying to get to know the two of you. Just, no questions about where I came from or about the portal, okay?”

“Ah, come on, just one question each, please?” Mabel begged.

“I’m sorry, but I’d rather not talk about what I’ve seen or been through. Not to mention, Stan and Ford both think it’s best you two stay away from that subject.”

“One question each, and then no more after that, please Y/n?” Mabel begged harder, flashing the biggest puppy dog eyes I’ve ever seen.

I sigh and give in, “okay, okay. One question each, but if I think it is too personal, I have the right to refuse to answer it.”

“Deal!” Dipper and Mabel exclaim enthusiastically.

“I’ll go first, how do you know Stan?” Mabel blurted out.

“Stan and I were friends at one point,” I see Mabel go to say something, but I stop her, “no Mabel, you cannot follow up with a question. The truth I’m sure will be revealed in due time.”

“Okay, can I ask how you knew I was going to ask that?” Mabel questioned.

“That’s an appropriate question and allows you to get to know me, so yes, that’s okay. I am a very perceptive person, I can read a person by just looking into their eyes.”

“That’s so awesome!”

“Okay, Dipper, which one of your billion questions are you gonna ask me? I can tell you’re the curious one.”

Dipper smiles and flips through his notepad, “where were you before you came out of that portal?”

I had to think about how to answer that without revealing too much. Luckily it was a fairly broad question, so I felt like I could answer this without revealing too much about myself, “I was in a place that I wish no one else to see, not even my mortal enemies.”

“Yeesh, that sounds horrible. You seem so…optimistic, how did you maintain that?”

“Is that too much of a revealing question!?” Mabel yelled as I went to answer.

“No, again it helps you two better understand who I am and how I function in difficult situations. Well, to be straight to the point and sort of sappy, the thought of returning home kept me optimistic. I’ve always been that way I guess, so maintaining that mindset was fairly easy considering the strain I was under.”

The kids continued to go back and forth on questions to get to know me as a person, the person I was before I went into the portal. The person I hoped was still in there somehow. In turn, they told me more about themselves, and I felt like I was really starting to bond with them.

“So, did you go to college?”

I shake my head, “as egotistical as it sounds, I felt like I was too good for college, like there was nothing it was going to teach me that I didn’t already know, you know? So, rather than spending thousands of dollars on education I felt was futile, I spent time doing what I loved, and looking for grants in other ways.”

“That’s possible?” Dipper questined, intrigued.

“Uh…sure. I definitely think you should pursue higher education. Don’t end up like me.”

Mabel went to ask another question when someone behind us cleared their throat. I turned to see who it was. Ford stood there and gestured for me to come with him. I nodded and stood up, “sorry kids, we can finish this later. It’s been really good talking to you two.”

The kids waved as Ford and I walked back into the gift shop and down to the basement. He didn’t say anything the entire walk down, and I was getting concerned. “Did I say something too revealing to the kids?”

Ford shakes his head, “no, I know you would try to protect them as much as Stan or I would. No, this is something much more serious. I found this while dismantling the portal.” Ford shows me a base and globe containing colorful glowing matter.

“I-is that what I think it is?”

Ford nods, “an interdimensional rift. I contained it, but I’m afraid that Bill may know about this…and will do anything to get his hands on it. I think this may also be the cause of your vivid dreams.”

My eyes widened, “you think that Bill might be heightening my connection to him and tormenting me into possibly making a deal so he can possess me to break the rift?”

Ford chuckles lightly, “it’s like you took the words right out of my mouth. I always forget how perceptive you are. Unfortunately, because of the connection Bill has with you already, encrypting your thoughts is going to be a difficult task to undertake.”

I take a deep breath, “I want to erase my memories then.”

[icequeenbae]

Hii! This is a more slow burn request so I’m sorry if it’s a little difficult, but could I request Heartsteel Ezreal x reader who’s knowledgeable and quite sarcastic and quick witted with their replies? I just wonder how their meeting would go with the whole Black cat, golden retriever vibe!

And maybe the reader sometimes suffers from low self-esteem and burnout.

Pairing: Heartsteel!Ezreal x Reader ft. all members

Heartsteel AU, attempted humor, fluff

Warnings: grumpymanager!Reader, Kayn is annoying as fuck… language? lol

Word Count: ~1.4k

© Please do not copy/ post on other platforms without permission.

Author’s Note: Hiii~ Thank you for the Ezreal request, sweetie! I do have my favorites in Heartsteel to write for, and he is definitely at the top of that list <3 Not sure if this is exactly what you wanted, but let’s give it a try! As usual, let me know via comments/ asks/ reblogs, I try stay on it~ P.S. The stuff I post for requests is usually not beta’ed, so pls bear with me…

You rubbed your tired eyes and cursed, checking if your fingers had any mascara on them. There was an issue to resolve, and you had hoped to finish up before the Heartsteel members returned to the waiting room after their rehearsal. But your plan failed miserably.

‘Our dearest manager!’ Kayn appeared next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. ‘Always working, what a busy little bee!’

You raised your eyebrow at him and stayed silent until he cleared his throat and retracted his arm, while the rest of the members scattered around the room, minding their own business.

‘Someone has to work around here,’ you replied, typing away on your laptop.

‘You should take a break and go grab something to eat at least,’ Yone suggested.

His amiable comment made you release a desperate sigh.

‘They messed up the mic backup, Yone. Not to mention that we have the music video budget due tomorrow and someone screwed up the calculations. I cannot let you film without the drones or the special effects crew. If you do everything yourselves, you’ll be dead before you go on stage again, and I will be ripped into a million tiny pieces by the company or your fans. And I don’t know which one’s worse…’

‘If that’s Sett’s fans you’ll live. They all twinky as shit, look at Phel.’ Kayn cackled, and Yone glared at him.

Sett and Aphelios exchanged looks, probably deciding to give their most annoying member a proper thrashing another time just for the sake of your emotional wellbeing. At least someone understood how dire the situation was.

‘How can I help?’ The producer asked.

Although you appreciated the offer, you knew that they had to perform tomorrow, so Yone would have to supervise the last of preparations starting early morning. You could not allow him to spend the night helping you and then go straight into tomorrow’s work. The price of a screwup was too high on this one.

‘You can help by taking them out for dinner and making sure they’re tucked in later. I don’t want anyone out wreaking any havoc while I’m not around to settle everything.’

‘That I can arrange.’ Yone nodded, giving the rest of the members a solid onceover. ‘You heard Y/N, boys. No fun for you tonight, we have a very long day tomorrow.’

‘Ugh. Buzzkill…’ Sett sighed, and Phel pinched him on the arm, hard. ‘Ow!!’

‘I think we can live with one night in, guys,’ Ezreal interjected. ‘We’re so tired anyway.’

‘Speak for yourself, young man. I am full of energy!’ K’Sante retorted.

What a traitorous blow! You’d expect it from anyone but him.

Noticing your flabbergasted expression, K’Sante quickly continued.

‘…which I can spend by working some iron in the gym before bed time.’

You shook your head, trying to focus on your spreadsheet again. It was a little- no, it was extremely overwhelming, trying to fix several urgent issues at once, while running on a couple hours of sleep, half a sandwich (had to donate the rest to Sett – he’s still growing, after all… or so he thinks) and way too much coffee.

‘Are you going to stay here though?’ Ezreal asked, sounding too quiet for his usual bubbly self.

You assumed he was afraid to get the short end of the stick and make you explode with his question. But you were too tired to even yell at any of them.

‘Not that I have any choice,’ you answered dryly. ‘Not everyone can teleport, Ezzie.’

He pursed his lips, probably realizing that it was best to leave you alone before you gave him the same glare that Kayn had earned earlier. Unlike the demonic bastard, Ezreal was among the members who preferred to stay away from you when you were fuming, as opposed to irritating you further to poke some fun. Yone had already spent a week negotiating for you to take back your resignation once, so they were on their best behavior ever since. Well, the best they could muster, which wasn’t that great but in the grand scheme of things… you’d take what you could get.

After they all vacated the premises, you finally managed to send the updated budget numbers for approval, and made a few calls about the mic replacement. It was unbelievable, but you really had to find someone to get the necessary equipment and fly in to bring it on time. So you stayed at the venue to be able to check whether everything worked fine right away.

But later that night, a mystery visitor woke you up while scooping you off the chair to get you onto the sofa.

‘Mhm- what… Who’s here??’ You jerked up from your uncomfortable sleeping position, accidentally hitting someone in the face with your head.

‘Ow!’ You heard someone squeak and turned around, finding Ezreal in pain, holding his hand to his nose.

‘What on Earth brings you here??’ You instinctively pinched the bridge of his nose as if that would help with the pain. ‘Wait, what time is it? Where is my phone??’

‘I took it,’ he said, wiping under his nose to check for blood.

Thankfully, there was none, and he was okay. Your nervous system, however, was not as lucky.

‘What do you mean, you took it??’ You frantically checked the time on your laptop. ‘3:23? I was supposed to meet someone an hour ago! Why didn’t you wake me up?!’

You grabbed your phone from blabbering Ezreal, but he clung to you like a koala.

‘Y/N, I-’

‘I know. You didn’t think properly, and now I will have to find a way to get that guy to come back if he isn’t sleeping in his hotel already… Shit, Ezzie, you fucked up! No, I fucked up. How could I have fallen asleep?? Stupid, stupid, stupid!’ You knocked on your own head with your knuckles to make a point, and Ezreal caught you by the wrist with his two hands, looking as if you had hit him and not yourself.

‘Y/N, I already met with him and took the mics. We ran a test downstairs with some of the overnight technicians. Everything is set up and working fine.’

You blinked at him a few times, still confused.

‘Uh- You… did?’

‘Yes. I came back earlier and you were asleep. Then someone called you, so I figured- And then I went down and checked everything,’ he delivered anxiously. ‘I also brought you a sandwich- but I didn’t want to wake you, so…’

He grabbed a paper bag from the sofa and shoved it into your hands. You looked at it, and then back at Ezreal, your sleepy and stressed-out brain still catching up with everything.

‘Um- so you brought me… a sandwich?’ You asked.

‘Yes,’ he nodded, strangely bashful. ‘And a juice box.’

His cheeks became rosy, and you couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Ezreal looked like a stray puppy, unsure about whether it was safe to express his affection.

As your laughter settled, you finally exhaled. Everything was okay, thanks to your unexpected little helper for tonight. And now that he’d mentioned the food…

‘I hope you got me an extra-large one.’ You hummed, sitting your butt down.

‘I got two,’ he beamed. ‘And a chocolate bar.’

‘Good. You look like you could have some chocolate right about now.’

And of course, after such an eventful night, as well as the previous few days, having a full belly made you dozy again. Although you did notice Ezreal’s head slowly tilting towards your shoulder through the layer of drowsiness, you didn’t catch your own head leaning onto his.

Due to your carelessness, you were in for a rude awakening in just a few hours.

‘Now, isn’t that adorable?’ Even from the depths of hell you would have heard Kayn exclaim in the most obnoxious voice possible.

‘I’m taking a picture. For the family album!’ K’Sante announced, quick to utilize the camera on his phone.

‘Or future blackmail…’ Kayn sneered evilly.

‘Maybe I should post that picture of you stuck in the vault with your pants down, Shieda Kayn.’ You mused out loud, eyes still shut.

There were a few sounds resembling muffled cursing, and then Kayn walked it back.

‘Hey man, we shouldn’t take pictures of people sleeping. It’s illegal or some shit. Let’s just go check on the preparations, come on.’

And so, they went back to where they came from. ‘Manager…’ You heard Ezreal whisper, head still laying on your shoulder. ‘You’re amazing.’

Non-EXO masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you for reading and happy holidays my sweethearts!! I have just a couple more requests to go~ I don't think I will take more for the time being but I might come up with another requests event for 900 or 1000 milestone! Please don't forget to comment and reblog if you want to support me 💜 And check out my masterlist for more of my HEARTSTEEL and kpop content 💕

[chibifox88]

Tragedy has Targets Chapter 2

That's your Plan?

Let me know what you though of it! I struggled finding a good place to end this and I was already over 14,000 words. The first draft of this before I found the good braking point was around 17,000. So hopefully this isn't to long. I hope you all enjoyed reading this and I am already well on my way to done with chapter 3!

-Chibi

It had been a couple of months since Lord Ox had been unsealed, and to say it had been annoying would be an understatement. I still couldn't wrap my head around why Lady Iron had fallen in love with the demon in the first place. After years of dealing with Red Son’s temper tantrums, I thought I was prepared for anything. But the Demon Bull King? He was a whole other level of chaos.

In just this month alone, he had destroyed about ten different rooms in the mansion. Not to mention the damage he’d done to the Foundry. Red and the clones were working overtime to make repairs, but they just couldn’t keep up with the Bull King's reckless destruction.

I was getting sick of it, but it wasn’t my place to say anything. Even if I wanted to. Red Son was too wrapped up in his desire to impress his father to speak up. He let the Bull King run wild, hoping for even a moment of acknowledgment. If the demon said something nice to Red, he’d combust with excitement—maybe even literally.

Lady Iron wasn’t much help either. She was so blissfully distracted by her husband’s return that she was completely ignoring the havoc he was wreaking. Sure, the Demon Bull King had been sealed away for a LONG time, but did that really give him the right to destroy all of our things?

Am I being a hypocrite right now? Probably, considering I had been fine with him wreaking havoc in the city months ago. Surprisingly, the city had rebuilt and recovered fairly quickly from the destruction he caused. Good for them, I guess.

But now, I found myself sitting at the dining table with the Bull family for lunch. Ever since Lord Ox had returned, Princess Iron Fan had insisted on family meals, which meant Red Son and I could no longer eat in his lab.

As I sat there, I wished I could be in my own room or even Red’s lab, enjoying a quiet meal instead of being right next to Red, who was going on and on about his latest plan to gain power for his father. 

Meanwhile, the Demon Bull King was rambling at the same time about how that stupid monkey had ruined everything and how he was going to get his revenge—it was only a matter of time.

Well, they certainly were father and son; both could talk for hours without caring what the other was saying. At least it made it a little easier for me, since I wasn’t expected to engage with the Bull King. Red Son, on the other hand, believed I was hanging on his every word. To be honest, I wasn’t paying attention most of the time to what he talks about.

But this time, I was listening. When Red announced today’s plan, I couldn’t help but burst out laughing, which made both Red and the Bull King stop mid-sentence. I turned to Red and asked, “Do you really think it’s a good idea to take over the weather station? What on earth made you think that?” I rolled my eyes, glancing back at my plate of… perhaps steak? It was some kind of meat that Bull King had caught and ordered the bull clones to cook, so I wasn't entirely sure what it was.

Red’s hair blazed with anger as he reacted to my doubt. “Of course it’s a good idea, Shiro! If we could harness the power of natural disasters, we’d be unstoppable! How could it be a bad idea?” He slammed his hand down on the table, making the silverware rattle.

I shrugged, taking a bite of the mystery meat, chewing as I met his gaze. After swallowing, I gave him my driest look. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because the weather center has a ton of foot traffic, and you’d be found out instantly? Or maybe your armor can only convert matter into energy and not a fucking tornado? Or, hear me out, that delivery boy will show up again and kick your ass since he declared himself the city’s hero.”

Red Son literally blew up into a ball of fire at my words. “How dare you! How dare you say that? That vermin—no, he’s even below a rat that garbage—can take me on and win!” He screamed at me, the heat from his flames almost burning me. I rolled my eyes, trying to keep my cool.

“That ‘garbage’ literally DID take you on and win,” I shot back. “Plus, he has the Monkey King’s powers, so even if you fought him, you wouldn’t be able to do much damage. What do you expect? That he got weaker over the last couple of months? You know better than anyone since you’ve had a bull clone stalking him. He’s been training with… someone. Most likely the Monkey King, if not someone at that level of power.” I scooted my chair further away from his, as he was still erupting in flames. My words had already pissed him off, and every time I spoke after that only seemed to stoke the fire further. He hated it when I threw his failures in his face, even if that was one of the things his mother wanted me to do.

It’s so amusing to be one of the few who can throw his failures back at him and deal with his fiery outbursts because of it, I thought sarcastically.

Red opened his mouth to yell at me again, but his father slammed his hand down on the table. The force of the slam made everything on the table fly into the air for a moment, but it had the desired effect: it stopped Red Son’s fire and silenced him. I looked up at Lord Ox, who was now giving us both a hard look, studying us. I couldn’t tell what he was trying to find, but both Red Son and I didn’t say anything; we didn’t look away from the Bull King. He wanted our attention, and now he had it.

His gaze settled on me. “Feline, what makes you believe my son would be bested by that little thief again?” My eyebrow twitched. What did he just call me? That was worse than “kitten.” At least Lady Iron called me that for a reason—one I didn’t like, but still a reason. I was more than just a cat.

But I couldn’t verbally lash out at the Demon Bull King, so I had to rely on logic and my own stubbornness. Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I focused on Lord Ox again. “Lord Ox, Red is strong; I’m not saying he isn’t. But so is the noodle boy. He’s being trained on how to use his powers, and from where I’m sitting, Red isn’t treating him as a threat. You can be cocky,” I glanced at Red, giving him a dry look, “but you can’t underestimate your opponent, even if he’s new to fighting and magic.”

I looked back at Bull King and continued, “The boy is unfortunately a prodigy. Even if you dismiss it as a fluke, he still brought you to your knees, Lord Ox. So we shouldn’t make plans that are so flashy if we can help it right now. Especially since the Monkey King is keeping a close eye on the boy and his fights. If anything happens that Sun Wukong doesn’t like, he will step in. I know Red Son’s strengths well, but I’m positive he wouldn’t be able to stand against the Monkey King in a full-on fight.” The Demon Bull King’s hands curled into fists as he let out a huff of smoke. I didn’t even know he could do that, but I could tell he was trying to hold back his anger.

I then looked across the table at Lady Iron, hoping she could make sense of this whole situation. She rolled her eyes and turned to her husband. “Oh, my love, don’t be so dramatic. We’ve nothing but time. You will bring the world to its knees.” Then she shifted her gaze to Red Son and me. “As for you two, do what you wish, my son.”

My eyes widened at her words. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea. If he goes out there, he’s just asking to become a laughingstock again.” I started, but Red snapped his head toward me, his hair igniting once more. However, Lady Iron continued, unfazed by my protest. “I understand your concerns, and since you’ve voiced your strong disagreement with his plan, I will allow you to step back while he pursues it. If that nuisance of a child and his friends come to challenge Red Son, do not intervene. Let my son prove he can handle them on his own. If he fails, he will have no one to blame but himself. However, you must remain nearby in case anyone else shows up to threaten Red Son. Then it will be your responsibility to protect him.” She concluded, her gaze shifting between Red Son and me, her expression resolute. 

Red was giving me a shit-eating grin, clearly enjoying the chaos. I shrugged back at him. “Fine by me, but when you get your ass kicked again, you can’t complain about me being late for a whole three months.” I met Red’s cocky grin with one of my own. His expression became strained as he struggled to keep his anger in check. “And when I prove that taking over the weather center is the best plan, you have to give me your dessert for five whole months.” My eyebrow twitched. He was being a petty little brat, but I could play that game too.

I opened my mouth to reply, but a loud screeching sound came from beside me as Bull King stood up. He looked at Red Son and me with a serious expression. “Well, at the end of this, we will know who was right: my son or you, girl.”

I guess he didn’t like me much, but I truly didn’t care what he thought. As the tension in the room thickened, I glanced between Red and his father. There was a charged silence as we awaited the next move, each of us bracing for the unfolding drama. I could feel the weight of their expectations pressing down on me, on Red Son.

“Just remember,” I finally said, my voice steady, “underestimating your opponent could cost you. And I’ll be right there to remind you of that when it does.” I shot Red a challenging look, knowing full well that this was far from over.

The atmosphere shifted slightly; a newfound determination flickered in Red’s eyes. He opened his mouth, about to say something, but then Lord Ox stepped in, his presence dominating the room. “Enough of this bickering.  Feline, I expect you to keep an eye on things while maintaining your distance.”

I nodded once. He stalked out of the dining room, leaving the rest of us in silence. Princess Iron Fan was next to leave, gliding gracefully from the room. Sometimes I wondered how she did that. Maybe it was because she was a celestial, and it just came naturally to them. As a half-cat demon, I sometimes wished I had inherited the grace that cats were known for. Instead, I ended up with their clumsiness.

Now it was just Red and me. I turned to him and said, “You know you’re going to fail, right?” His hair flickered with flames as he glared back at me. “So you’ve told me. You don’t have to keep saying it, Shiro.” He was right; I didn’t, but I was going to continue anyway.

I stood up from the table. “I’m going to get ready for your useless mission. I’ll meet you at the gate in about an hour.” I started toward the door, barely catching him muttering under his breath that it meant I’d be late as always. But I ignored him this time.

As I walked through the looming halls, flanked by intricately carved pillars, the faint smell of incense lingered in the air. I slowed to a stop, pausing in front of one of the many paintings covered by a sheet during our time away from the mansion. The bull clones hadn’t gotten to this side yet, so much of the cleaning and unpacking had been neglected. Of course, that made sense. After all, when we returned to this country, Lady Iron was quick to make plans to free Bull King. We hadn’t even been living here for two months yet.

The Bull Family had been on the run for what felt like an eternity, their lives shattered by relentless pursuit. Without Bull King there to provide protection, Princess Iron Fan was left to bear the immense weight of their situation alone. The day he was sealed away marked the beginning of her despair. She stood in the ruins of their once-glorious life, grappling with the haunting reality that heaven had turned its back on her.

With a half-breed child nestled against her hip—a child whom the world deemed unworthy—she felt the icy grip of fate tight around her heart. The whispers of condemnation echoed in her mind, a constant reminder that there were those who wanted her son dead. To them, he was an abomination, a living testament to a union that defied divine will. The world outside was unforgiving, and she realized with a heavy heart that she had no choice but to flee, to create a new identity far from the shadows and scorn that followed her.

But that was before I came into the picture. I was…

As I reflected on her plight and my own past, I shook my head, trying to dispel the memories that threatened to overwhelm me. The past was a tangled web of sorrow and tragedy, and I needed to focus on the present. Just then, my phone vibrated softly in my pocket, breaking the spell of my thoughts. I reached for it, feeling the familiar weight of it in my hand, and pulled it out to read the message that had just come through.

Breezeblock: Neko, you still need to complete this month's job.

I rolled my eyes. Right—another task to check off the ever-growing list. One of my magical contracts was flaring for attention again, demanding I give it some of my time. Princess Iron Fan had never been opposed to me taking on side jobs. In fact, she encouraged it, so long as I kept Red and the rest of the family as my top priority. As long as the blood I spilled didn’t interfere with Bull Family affairs, she never blinked at my extracurriculars. The pay was decent, and frankly, I’d been bored the day I took this particular one. It had been one of those moments where distraction felt like necessity, and before I knew it, I had agreed. Plus the guild had already been on my case, anyway, warning me that my quota was overdue and that they were assigning me to Breezeblock whether I liked it or not. Another “permanent client,” as they liked to phrase it. I didn’t exactly get a say. At least I can choose when to end the jobs though.

The name they knew me by in that world—Neko—still made me cringe some days. It had started as a joke by a certain shadowy jerk, but somewhere along the way it stuck. Now it clung to me like shadow magic, whispered through grimy back alley corners and smoke-stained bars. Everyone had a story about Neko. The assassin who could kill with one bullet from miles away. The professional ghost. The demon who would take any job, no matter how dirty, as long as the price was right. And, of course, the favorite: that I never missed. That once I locked onto a target, their life was already over. Even I played into it sometimes. There was power in a reputation, even a messy, violent one.

I won’t pretend I wasn’t proud of my aim. I’d been forced to train obsessively for it, bled and burned through magic to hone my shots to the point of obsession. Everyone I’d worked with—my handlers, my clients, even my enemies—knew I had a damn supernatural shot. But even so, the myth was just that: a myth. The truth was quieter. I’d missed before, especially in crosswinds or during arcane interference. I always calculated to the best of my ability, mapped it out down to the millisecond, but I wasn’t a god. Sometimes variables slipped through. And even the best sniper in the world had to blink. I did my best, and usually, that was more than enough. But the legend didn’t leave room for mistakes. The underground liked its monsters polished and perfect. They liked to forget they were hiring a person underneath the scope.

Lately, though, I’d been getting the sinking feeling that “enough” wasn’t going to cut it much longer. The weight in the air had shifted. Magic was thickening, sharpening. More powerful demons were creeping out of whatever cracks they’d hidden in during the last decades, and I could feel it—pressing in from the edges of the city. The easy days were over. I knew it, even if Breezeblock didn’t. The kinds of enemies rising now weren’t the kind you picked off with a bullet and a clever curse. They were the kind that made you wish you’d never taken the job.

Still, the current contract was manageable. Tedious, maybe, but nothing challenging. I glanced at my phone, double-checked the details, and tucked it back into my pocket. I could get it done in an hour, two at most. It wouldn’t take long—especially not for someone like me. I’d wait until Red finished getting his ass kicked at the weather station and slip away once the air was quiet again. Of course also making sure he gets back to the mansion safely as well.  I started walking down the hallway again, heading in the direction of my room. 

When I got to my room, I quickly put on my holster belt, strapped on extra ammo clips, and slid my hand pistols into their holsters. But I also wanted to annoy Red, knowing he wouldn’t leave without me. So I plopped down on my bed and started scrolling on my phone. There were so many posts online about that delivery boy, all calling him a hero or their savior. Which, I guess, was true; he did stop Bull King. The more shocking part to me was how no one—literally NO ONE—had even noticed the Monkey King on the mech. How? How did everyone but me miss that stupid monkey?

Maybe it was because of my eyes. Perhaps he had a glamour on, and I saw through it. That could also explain why he seemed surprised when he felt me staring at him. Plus, there was the fact that I had shot at him. But he definitely deserved it; he had sent a kid to fight a massive demon. It was pure luck that the kid won, along with his natural fighting ability.

I sighed and lay back on the bed, one arm draped over my face to shut out the light. My phone sat abandoned beside me, screen still glowing faintly before it dimmed to black. My eyes ached—not from strain, but from existing. A dull pressure, always present. Not pain exactly. Just a constant reminder that they were still there, still working, even when I wanted nothing more than to shut the world out.

They called it “true sight.” The white coats used to speak about it like it was some kind of divine achievement. They whispered about it behind glass and glowing screens, poked and prodded and catalogued it like it was theirs to study, not mine to survive. I don’t talk about my eyes outside of the Bull Family. Not to clients. Not even in the underground, where people love to speculate. Let them think it’s just skill. A rare talent. A sniper’s eye.

They don’t know what it really is.

They don’t know what I lost to get it.

True sight. Sounds poetic, doesn’t it?

Like a gift.

But it wasn’t.

It was a curse—forced onto me, carved into my body, stitched into the marrow of my bones by people who never once asked what it would cost me. Didn’t care either. It lets me see too much. Not just distances. Not just heat trails or magical interference. I see weakness. Lies. The things people try to bury. I can watch a person’s aura fracture mid-conversation. I can read a battlefield before a single blade is drawn. I can calculate shots through steel, smoke, and enchantment like they’re nothing.

People would kill for eyes like mine.

But they don’t know what it’s like to live with them.

Useful? Sure.

Powerful? Undeniably.

But I’ve never felt farther from human than I do when I look through someone and realize I can’t stop myself from doing it. The white coats made sure of that.

I sat up slowly, running a hand down my face. The thoughts were circling again, heavier than usual. I shook my head, trying to force the spiral away. Gods, what was wrong with me today? I couldn’t stop thinking about things best left buried. And it was dragging me under.

Maybe it was something small setting me off today. Like the fact I hadn’t re-dyed my hair yet. The roots were probably fully  showing by now—uneven, too pale. I tried not to think about what that meant. Why the color underneath was always white now. It wasn’t natural. It never had been. My hair hadn’t started that way. It had been stripped, drained, changed in that lab, like everything else they’d touched. I could almost feel it again—the moment it started to lose its color, like even my body was rejecting what they were doing to me. I caught myself thinking about it and forced the thought away.

I hadn’t had time to fix it. Not with everything going on. Missions, guild demands, Red’s constant drama, and whatever the hell the noodle boy was doing lately. Maybe after my next job, I’d slip into town. Fix the color. Remind myself who I am—who I chose to be, not what they tried to build out of me.

First though, I needed to meet up with Red.

I glanced at the clock. Over an hour late. I almost smiled. Let him wait. I didn’t feel bad. Honestly… he deserved it.

By the time I reached the gate, Red was literally steaming. I couldn’t help but giggle as I walked closer to him, his fiery temper practically radiating off him. He whipped around, his eyes glowing red, and started yelling again. “You’re two hours late! We should have left hours ago! Why are you always late to everything I ask you to show up for?!”

As he yelled, his hair shifted from smoking to flaming, a clear sign of his anger. I rolled my eyes, not bothering to answer him. Instead, I slipped my hands into the pockets of my jacket and stepped through the gate, moving past him.

“Where are you going?!” he called after me, his voice laced with frustration. I paused and turned my head over my shoulder, giving him a deadpan look. “To the weather tower, like you want.” With that, I turned back to the road ahead and started walking again.

It took him and the clones a few moments to catch up, but they eventually did. Red sprinted ahead, likely believing that as a ‘prince,’ he had to be in front. Technically, he was right, but I wasn’t too concerned about that.

As we walked out of the Bull Family’s territory and into the city proper, I couldn’t ignore the glares from the citizens we passed. Their hostility hung in the air, thick and palpable. Red, however, seemed oblivious, either not noticing or simply choosing to ignore them. He even had the audacity to stop at a cheese tea stall, demanding two drinks for free, as if he were above it all.

When he returned, he handed me one of the drinks with a casual flick of his wrist. “Here.”

I accepted it with a short, “Thanks.” He could be nice when he wanted, but most of the time, he chose to be an angry brat. I couldn’t hold myself above him too much, though; I could be a brat as well.

But at least when I acted out, I wasn’t wasting everyone’s time. I couldn’t help but wonder: how many people would he annoy today with this stunt? How many might get hurt because of it? In the end, I didn’t truly care; it was just inconvenient for me.

I killed for money, after all. The job I was taking on after this was an assassination job. So, in my mind, less loss of life meant nothing. But it annoyed me when those losses impeded my current work and impacted how much I’d have to handle in the future.

I thought back to the chaos caused by the Demon Bull King, who had taken so many lives during his first attempt to seize the city. Of course, the citizens hated this family. I didn’t blame them. But that just meant more people would want to take out Red for revenge. They always assumed Red Son couldn’t fight or was helpless. He could fight; PIF just had me around so that if he didn’t feel like killing, I could. Or if he was distracted by something and didn’t notice the attacker, though those events were rare. He usually just didn’t feel like dealing with them himself. 

We finally arrived at the base of the tower. I looked up at the looming structure, feeling its weight in the air. Crossing my arms over my chest, I turned to Red and asked, “Are you sure you want to do this?” I met his brown eyes, frowning in concern.

He rolled his eyes at me, brushing off my question. Without a word, he walked through the doors, leaving me standing outside. I sighed, watching him disappear into the building. This was going to take a while, so I might as well find a place to sit while he did his thing.

I strolled over to a nearby restaurant with open seating under a canopy and settled into one of the chairs. Just as I sank into the seat, dark clouds rolled in, and rain began to pour.

I glared up at the tower, knowing he had chosen this moment to irritate me. He was fully aware of how much I disliked being wet. Just another reason he was a brat. I sighed, resigned to my fate, and took a sip of the cheese tea he had gotten me.

As a broadcast started, announcing his intention to take over the weather station, I stared at the TV across the street, my mouth wide open in disbelief. It’s official—he’s a complete idiot. Why in the heavens above would he do that? At least give yourself ten minutes to get settled! 

Maybe this wouldn’t take as long as I originally thought. After all, that group of so-called heroes was bound to show up soon, and I couldn't help but wonder how this chaotic day would unfold.

And just as I finished thinking that, a green dragon-shaped blur came racing by. It shot up the tower, and I could swear I heard someone yelling, "Let's kick his butt!" I slapped a hand to my forehead. How on earth did we end up here? He was going to get his ass kicked by two barely adults and three actual adults. I watched as a green dragon aura flashed around the top of the weather tower.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up. Something was watching me. I looked around, setting my tea down on the table ahead of me, pretending I hadn’t noticed whatever it was while I searched. My gaze landed on the top of a nearby building, and there it was.

That weird ginger-brown bird—red and blue feathers clashing like some kind of gaudy fashion disaster, with two mismatched tails twitching in rhythm—was perched across the street, three buildings down. Right where I said he’d be. Exactly where I warned them he’d be.

The Monkey King.

In full surveillance mode.

Staring directly at me.

And not in the casual, oh-I-just-happened-to-glance-your-way kind of stare. No, this was the full “I know what you did and I’m debating how fast I can end you” type of stare.

Charming.

I didn’t let my eyes linger on him, but the pressure didn’t go away. If anything, it got worse. That sensation of being watched with intent—with a predator’s patience. He hadn’t moved yet. Which, honestly, just made it worse.

So I did what any sensible person would do in the face of a potentially homicidal immortal: I pretended I hadn’t seen him. I kept scrolling through my phone like I didn’t know I was under surveillance from a divine nightmare disguised as an overgrown pigeon.

Classic me.

And look, I knew why he was pissed. The whole “I shot at him” thing. Minor detail. Could’ve happened to anyone. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I happened to be in a mood and holding a gun. But apparently immortals hold grudges. Who knew?

I rolled my eyes at myself and felt the faint twitch of annoyance behind them. Because, of course, I wouldn’t even be in this mess if the Bull Family had actually listened to me when I warned them that the Monkey King wasn’t just watching from a distance anymore. No, they brushed it off. Red brushed it off, acting like I was being paranoid. Iron Fan didn’t say anything, just gave me that “noted” look and moved on.

And now look where we are.

Me. Under celestial lockdown. Three buildings away from a magical nuke disguised as a bird. All because someone couldn’t be bothered to believe me.

All of this, just because I had to show him what he missed, what could have happened.I felt the weight of Wukong’s gaze still locked on me and resisted the urge to flip him off. Bad idea. Great emotional release. Still a bad idea.

And the worst part? I couldn’t even do anything. I couldn’t kill him. He was immortal, for one. For two—he was Wukong. You don’t kill Wukong. You hope he’s bored enough to let you live.

I could teleport, sure. That’d buy me a few seconds, maybe even a solid minute if I got creative with the distance. But we both knew he’d find me again. The man once outran Heaven. My evasion skills weren’t going to cut it against that.

Leverage. I had a little. Not much. But a little.

His protégé’s friends. I wouldn’t hurt them—not really. But I could grab them. Use them as hostages, human shields, bargaining chips. I didn’t like the idea. Not one bit. But I wasn’t above it. Not if it meant getting him to back off, even for a moment.

I sighed internally.

Gods, I hated it when my own actions came back to bite me in the ass. But what I hated more was having to deal with the fallout alone, because the people I worked for decided I was being “dramatic.”

Yeah. Paranoia’s a lot less funny when it turns out to be right.

Now here I was, trying to act casual while Wukong stared me down like I’d already lost.

And maybe I had.

But I’d be damned if I let him see me sweat.

As I was lost in thought, a body came flying from the tower, crashing down to the street across from me and creating a massive crater. To my surprise, it was surprisingly deep. I was impressed.

But then, Sun Wukong swooped down into the crater, glowing a bright golden color as he transformed from the bird into his true form. He jumped onto a cloud that seemed to appear out of nowhere and began munching on… were those peach chips? Where the hell did those come from? Were they in the cloud? He then spoke, “How you doing there, bud?”

The noodle boy shot up from his crumpled position in the middle of the crater, stars in his eyes as he found a second wind. He practically screamed in excitement, “Monkey King! Great! Now that you're here, we can fly up there and smash that—”

Sun Wukong’s gaze fell fully on the boy as he put his peach chips back into the cloud, shaking his head at the noodle boy. “No, no, no, no, no. In case you forgot, I'm retired. You're supposed to be taking care of the bad guys. Besides, you're invincible! Right?” The Monkey King tilted his head to the side, eyeing the boy with a mischievous smirk, as if he were throwing something back in the kid's face.

The boy looked down at the ground, wringing his hands together. He spoke mainly at the pavement, glancing up at the Monkey King. “Well, yeah, I mean, I am invincible, but, you know, every time I try to do anything, I just gunk everything up. Something's wrong.” He threw his hands up in frustration. Sun Wukong stared at him for a moment before launching himself at the kid, climbing onto his shoulder. The boy stumbled, yelling, “Hey, what are you doing?!”

Sun Wukong began to search through the boy's hair, seeming to look for something. After a few seconds, he leaned closer to the boy's head, a worried look crossing his face. “Oh yeah, you're right. Oh, this is bad. Something's really wrong,” the Monkey King stated.

The boy gasped and started to flail around like a fish out of water, yelling, “What is it? What's wrong?!” He began to go pale.

The Monkey King then grabbed a bug from the boy's hair and ate it, jumping off him and out of the crater. His back to the kid, he tossed an insult over his shoulder. “It's you, dummy.” It might have been childish, but wow, he was really playing with this kid's feelings.

The boy tilted his head to the side, stunned by the Monkey King's words. A simple response fell from his lips: “What?”

Sun Wukong nodded to himself, still not facing the kid. “In order to have full control of your powers, you need self-confidence.” He then placed one of his hands on his hip.

The boy crawled out of the crater and stood next to the Monkey King, stating, “I got self-confidence!” He threw his hands in the air and leaned in close to the King.

The Monkey King turned his head away from the boy, raising his tail and pushing him away so forcefully that he lost his balance and fell to the ground. As he did, Sun Wukong stated, “No, you're just loud. The only way to get self-confidence is—”

The boy interrupted him, sparkles in his eyes as he stood up again. “Fake it 'til I make it?” he asked innocently.

The Monkey King’s head snapped to the noodle boy. “No! Practice! You think I took shortcuts? No. It took me centuries of training and fighting and just beating up demons. Just so many demons.” He looked away from the kid as if searching for the right words. “A-anyway, nothing worth anything comes for free.” He raised his fist to his mouth and coughed lightly into it, still avoiding the boy’s gaze.

The noodle boy looked down at the pavement, struggling to find his own words. After a few seconds, he finally looked up at the Monkey King. “But what about my friends? The city? They're all counting on me.” His eyes started to water. I looked away for a moment, grabbing my tea. Damn this kid; he had a soft heart. It was annoying, reminding me of someone I wished to forget.

I turned back to the scene as the Monkey King groaned. “Fine. If it'll stop your whining, I know a way to limit your powers so you can learn to control them. But…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his head, still not looking at the kid.

“But what?” the boy asked, stars back in his eyes. The Monkey King turned to face him again, a strained expression on his face. “You won't be invincible anymore.”

That made me pause. If the kid wasn’t invincible anymore, it meant I could take him out. I could hold the kid over the King’s head! I could eliminate the boy way faster than the Monkey King could stop me. The boy’s friends probably didn’t mean much to Wukong, but that kid did. A cruel smirk pulled at my lips as I heard the boy say, “Alright, let's do it.” Maybe I can get out of this alive after all.

The Monkey King nodded at him. “All right. No turning back.” Before the boy could change his mind, the Monkey King put his hands together. They began to glow gold, and a seal appeared in front of him. I recognized that seal; it was an old one. I had only seen it in books so ancient they were falling apart.

He then shoved his hands forward into the boy’s chest, sending him flying back into the crater. When the golden light dimmed, Sun Wukong walked over to the kid, scratching his cheek as he asked, “Feeling alright, bud?”

The boy looked up at the King with a smile on his face and replied, “Yeah!”

Sun Wukong smiled at the boy and gave him two thumbs up. “That’s the spirit, MK! Now go up there and rescue your friends.” He placed both hands on his hips, his grin widening.

So, the noodle boy's name was MK, huh? I noted it, but it didn’t matter much; I’d need to use him as leverage against the King. Slowly, I moved my hand down to the holster on my hip, trying not to draw his attention. If I could just reach my handgun, I might be able to get the King to back off a little.

But before I could even begin to draw the gun, the Monkey King gleamed gold again, transforming back into that bird. He grabbed the back of the kid's collar and took off into the sky. Well, that sucks. He must have sensed my intentions.

Now I needed to figure out my next move. I put my elbow on the table and rested my head on my fist, letting out a sigh as I closed my eyes for a moment to gather my thoughts.

I didn’t have anything on the Monkey King down here. Maybe I could use the civilians? No, they all seemed to have cleared out from this area. What else could I do to get out of this? To cling to what life I had left. Red would be fine. I didn’t believe Sun Wukong actually considered him or the rest of the Bull Family a threat to MK.

As I contemplated my options, my sleeve fell back slightly, revealing the top of one of my magical contract seals. I sat up fully and examined the seal, my mind racing. Maybe, if I played my cards right, I could convince the Monkey King to enter into a contract with me instead of eliminating me.

I could offer to spare the kid, even if ordered to kill him. I knew the Bull Family wouldn’t bother ordering me to take out that kid anyway since Red wanted to be the one to kick his ass and regain his self-respect. But Sun Wukong didn’t know that. He thought I was itching to kill the kid. But what would I ask for in return?

It had to seem like I genuinely wanted something. Was there anything I desired from that monkey? I hadn’t ever really wanted much in my life or needed much. I guess what I truly needed was money. Hmm, maybe I could play the desperate card. My other hand gripped the sleeve of my jacket, pulling it back up over the seal.

As I finished that thought, the wind picked up, tossing my hair around my face. I pushed it out of my eyes and turned my head to meet the golden glare of the Monkey King. The tension crackled between us; I kept my spine straight and my face neutral, determined not to show any sign of nervousness. I had my half baked plan. I’ll just have to wing in on getting it there.

I grabbed my tea again, taking a sip as we stared at each other. The air felt thick, almost electric, as I raised an eyebrow at him, slowly assessing his posture. He stood with his arms crossed, his spine rigid, as if he expected me to try and run away. I turned back to look across the table from me and calmly gestured to the seat opposite me. “What can I do for you?”

He stared at me for a few seconds longer, then nodded, uncrossing his arms and heading toward the chair I had indicated. I hid my surprise; I had fully expected him to remain standing, looming over me like a thunderstorm.

He slipped into the chair, still leveling me with that unyielding glare. I watched his body language, noting the silence as he continued to scrutinize me. The tension built between us, each of us waiting for the other to break the silence. It couldn’t be me; I had cards to play, and speaking first would make me seem desperate. I needed to appear calm, collected, and confident, as if I could take out the kid even with him present.

I glanced back at the weather tower, seeing the kid fighting Red Son at the top. It looked like Red was getting his ass handed to him. Turning my gaze back to the Monkey King, I took another sip of my tea, steadying myself for what was to come.

Finally, he placed his arms on the table and clapped his hands together, breaking the silence. “So, who are you?” There was no warmth in his tone, unlike the one he had used with the kid. He truly saw me as a threat. Maybe I should feel honored, but to be honest, it sucked. I didn’t want to be on any list this powerhouse had, no matter what that list was.

I kept my face neutral, knowing the role I needed to play.

       I had to push any and all emotions down.

 It was fine; I was used to it, just like I had to be when I was young.

         I was not afraid, nor nervous, nor worried.

                    Everything was fine, and I had it all under control.

I met his gaze, raising a brow. “You know it’s rude not to introduce yourself first if you’re asking for someone’s name,” I said, my voice steady. I broke eye contact and looked at the iced tea in my hand, swirling the ice around to create a small whirlpool that faded as quickly as it had formed.

He hummed for a moment. “I know you know who I am, but fine, if you want to play this game, I’ll play. I am The Great Sage Equal to Heaven, the one and only Sun Wukong!” His voice rose at the end, taking on a playful tone, almost as if he were trying to impress me.

I nodded slowly, looking back at him with a bored expression. “Ah, I see,” I stated dryly. He couldn’t get under my skin. I needed to get under his first, to take him off balance just a little. I took another drink of my tea, maintaining that same dry look.

“Well?” he prompted, raising one of his brows. I looked him up and down again, taking my time. “Well, what?” I retorted, meeting his gaze once more.

I saw one of his brows twitch as he struggled to stay calm. “Well, who are you? What do you want with MK?” His glare was molten hot. If looks could kill, I’d be dead ages ago.

“Oh, yeah, that.” I leaned back in my seat, resting one arm over the back of it. His eyes tracked that arm, as if expecting it to reach for one of my weapons. Good; I was at least pushing him to the edge. Just a bit more pressure, and perhaps this might work. I looked back to the tower, ensuring Red was still up there, along with the noodle boy and his friends.

Turning my gaze back to the Monkey King, I let my head tilt to the side. “I’m nobody special. Just a hired gun for a half-breed prince.” I shrugged, finishing my statement. His mouth formed a thin line, and his stare grew harsher, if that was even possible.

He gave me a closed-eye smile, but it had too many teeth to be friendly. “What’s your name, girl? I won’t ask again,” he stated. Okay, good—he was getting pissy. A smile of my own began to form on my lips, letting him believe I was just another cocky fool like the rest of the Bull Family.

“Oh! Is that what you were asking?” I raised my free hand to my mouth, feigning surprise. “Sorry, mister, not many actually want my name. Of course I’ll tell you!” I gave him a fake smile, one I knew he could see through, just so he understood I was messing with him. But he remained silent, waiting for me to reveal my name.

Finally, I gave him my name with a shrug, adding, “But I also go by many other things—Neko, Shiro, Bitch, Whore, Gun, Assassin, Weapon. So pick any of those, and I’ll more than likely answer to it.” He nodded slowly, still assessing me, gauging whether the wariness he felt was warranted.

The tension in the air thickened, and I could almost feel the weight of each unspoken word hanging between us. I was taking a dangerous gamble, but I had to project confidence, even as my heart raced. If I could keep him off balance, perhaps I could turn this situation to my advantage.

He nodded again, then asked, “What do you want with the kid?” His hard stare felt like a weight pressing down on me. Okay, this was going as well as it could. I just had to keep this up. So I shrugged, took a drink of my tea, and glanced across the street at the crater in the middle of the road, making him sit there and wait.

Finally, I spoke. “The noodle boy? Personally, I could care less about him. My employer, on the other hand, is a different story.” I looked back at Sun Wukong, noting how the knuckles of his clasped hands were turning white. His tail began to sway in irritation, but he wrapped it around the bottom of the chair to keep it still. I could see the way his hair stood on end a little. Okay, maybe I was pushing too hard. But at this point, I couldn’t back down.

“So, your ‘employers’—what do they want with MK?” He was trying so hard to maintain his composure, to not just kill me right there. I could see it in his eyes. Maybe that’s why I didn’t make him wait this time; I replied nonchalantly.

“Oh, that? I don’t know. Whatever they ask of me, I’ll do. I’m not really in a position to question why or when.” I grabbed my iced tea again and took a sip, letting my statement settle over Sun Wukong.

“So,” he asked, voice low and almost deceptively soft, “if they asked you to kill him… would you?”

As if he didn’t already know the answer.

I didn’t blink. Didn’t smirk. Just gave him a slow, deliberate nod. The truth didn’t need dressing up.

His eyes stayed locked on mine for a long moment before he finally looked down, exhaling through his nose like he was counting the seconds it would take to not obliterate me on the spot. Three breaths. Steady. Intentional. Not to calm himself—but to center whatever came next.

“I don’t want to kill you,” he said, voice flat, calm, final. “But I will.”

There was no edge to it. No heat. Just certainty.

“You’re a threat to my successor. Maybe the biggest one he’s ever faced. And I don’t even know what you’re fully capable of yet.”

He leaned forward, voice quiet but pointed, like every word was chosen for maximum precision.

“You think you’re clever. Dangerous. And maybe you are. But I’ve ended armies. Outwitted gods. Buried monsters so old their names were forgotten before this world had a name. If I decide you’re not worth the gamble—if you push me—I will erase you. Entirely.”

He didn’t blink.

“You’ll be gone. No body. No soul. No trace. Just silence where you used to be.”

Then, with no effort, he unclasped his hands and dug his fingers into the edge of the metal table between us. The steel screamed under the pressure, folding in on itself like it had never been solid to begin with.

I sighed—not loudly, but enough to show I wasn’t impressed. Or at least, that I was pretending not to be.

I breathed out slowly, tilting my head just enough to look unimpressed. “That’s a very poetic death threat,” I said, tone light but steady. “You practice that one?”

He didn’t laugh. Didn’t even blink. Of course not.

“I’m just trying to save you the trouble of thinking you’d have options,” he said calmly.

Cute.

“Look,” I said, tilting my head lazily, “as much as I’d love to avoid being crushed into a metaphysical pulp, it’s not that simple.”

He didn’t answer, but the air around him shifted slightly—waiting.

I kept my tone even, casual, like we were talking about the weather. “I’m under contract. Magical. Binding. I do what I’m told—as long as it doesn’t interfere with another standing contract.”

His brows pulled together—just faintly. Not confusion. Just… recalculation.

I kept going, nice and easy. “Which means unless someone else has a standing contract with me before the order is given, I follow the Bull Family’s commands. It’s not personal—it’s magical law. And breaking one?” I gave a small shrug. “Let’s just say it’s a fast track to a painful death… if you’re lucky.”

That made him pause. Not visibly. But I felt it. He sat back, gaze still sharp, but narrowed now. Focused. The gears behind his eyes were turning.

He mulled over my words for a moment, looking down at the table where he had bent the metal, then back up at me. “You said you’d have to do what they told you to do, as long as it doesn’t interfere with another contract, correct?”

It took all my willpower to keep my expression bored and neutral, but I nodded. “Yup.” I popped the “p.” “They don’t mind me taking on extra work, as long as I prioritize Red Son and the Bull Family’s jobs. Of course, they included a clause in our contract stating that any work I get outside of the family has to be magically sealed.” I took a drink of my tea again, finishing it off. “Not many underworld jobs nowadays want to make a contract with someone, so it’s been a pain in the ass.” I rolled my eyes and placed the empty cup on the table between us.

He watched me intently, the gears turning in his brain. “So, you can only make magical contracts right now because of your current one with the Bull Family?” I nodded. I wasn’t lying; that was a condition in PIF’s and my contract. She didn’t want me to take on more jobs but also knew I’d get rusty if I didn’t use my skills often. So, she made it a pain in the ass to get more jobs. Of course, that wasn’t the only stipulation in our contract, but it was the most annoying part.

“Okay.” He looked down at his hands again, taking a deep breath, seeming to come to terms with what he was going to propose. “How about you and I make a magical contract then?”

My mouth fell open, and my eyes widened. I pushed any joy or excitement deep down. He had taken the bait; I just needed to keep this act up to reel him in. It wasn’t over yet.

“You, the Sun Wukong, want to make a magical contract with me? The girl who shot at you a couple of months ago?” I asked, letting a hint of disbelief seep into my voice. He nodded at me. So I straightened up, leaning back toward the table and bringing my arms to rest on its surface. Of course, I had to take this seriously; I would have to uphold this, and he held most of the power in this contract. I just hoped he wouldn’t see that, or that he was too upset or distracted by my earlier attitude to think it through.

“Okay, you have my full attention, Monkey King. What is it you’re proposing for this contract?”

He met my gaze, eyes sharp and unwavering, and began outlining his conditions.

“You will not kill MK, Mei, Tang, Pigsy, or Sandy—even if you’re ordered to by anyone. And if you’re around MK and someone he can’t handle tries to hurt him, you’ll step in and take care of the threat, however MK says to deal with it.”

Simple. Direct. No hesitation in his voice.

I leaned back slightly, arms folded. Okay. Not as bad as I’d been bracing for. Not great either, but nothing that caught me off guard. Honestly, I’d been expecting something a little more… dramatic. Maybe some over-the-top vow about honor or loyalty, considering who I was dealing with. But this? I could work with this.

Now it was my turn.

I sat forward, fingers drumming lightly on the table as I considered how to phrase what I wanted. The key here was detail—leave a single word vague and this guy would find a loophole big enough to drive a mountain through.

“Fair enough,” I began. “What I want from you is five thousand dollars a week. Plus that you're not allowed to kill me, or let me die if you’re around.”

I said it plainly, like I was asking for a glass of water. Just let it sit there in the air.

His reaction was immediate. He leaned back hard, eyes going wide as if I’d just asked for the moon.

“Five thousand?! A week? What do you think I am—made of money?”

I gave him a casual shrug, already prepared for that response. “Well, then how about I choose between the money or one of your many ancient artifacts? I could sell those for a pretty penny myself.”

There. That should keep things flexible. Either way, I win.

He blinked at me, clearly stunned. And honestly, it felt a little satisfying seeing him caught off guard for once. Sun Wukong, flustered. Not something you see every day.

Of course, it didn’t take him long to recover.

“Why?!” he asked, voice sharp with genuine confusion.

I leaned in a little, letting my tone settle into something steadier. Calm. Professional.

“That kid is the humans’ hero,” I said. “Demons hate him. Especially the Bull Family. Taking this contract with you?” I gestured vaguely toward the sky, where some distant explosion cracked the clouds. “It’s going to cost me. A lot. Jobs, trust, potential alliances. That’s a big hit to my paycheck. So I’ve got to make that money back somehow.”

He was still staring at me.

“And the artifacts? They’ve got value—magical, monetary, both. I could use that to buy safety if things go south. Or firepower, if it comes to that.” I held his gaze. “I’m not dumb enough to take this job without a backup plan.”

His expression softened. Not relaxed, exactly, but less confrontational.

And then—he pouted.

He pouted.

I stared. No, really stared. Seeing Sun Wukong pout was… something. Creepy. And weirdly unsettling. Like watching a lion sulk after losing a game of chess. I pushed the thought away before it got any weirder.

“Okay,” he said at last, dragging out the word like it hurt. “If I have to pay you five thousand a week or let you take something from my collection, then you also have to come to my home once a week to check in on what the kid had been doing while I wasn’t there and report what he’s doing.”

I froze. For a heartbeat, I just blinked at him.

Go to his place? Once a week?

“What?”

I had to physically stop myself from recoiling. Nope. Absolutely not.

“I can’t do once a week,” I said quickly, trying to keep my voice even. “The Bull Family’s work comes first. I’ve got obligations. Other jobs outside the family, too.”

Hopefully that’d make him back off. I didn’t even know how I’d get to wherever the hell he lived—much less feel comfortable dropping in on him every week.

But of course, the monkey wouldn’t make it easy.

He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm…”

No. No “hmm.” I didn’t like that sound.

Then he brightened. “How about this: you’ll come once every week if you’re able to, and you’ll need a legitimate reason if you can’t. But you’ll have to show up at least once a month. The rest, we can figure out case-by-case.”

He looked far too pleased with that compromise.

And technically… he hadn’t really changed the number of visits. Just added a minimum number of visits a month.  Still, I could deal with that. Once a month? I could suffer through that much. As long as I kept myself busy the rest of the time, I wouldn’t have to think too much about it.

“Fine,” I muttered. “But the visits last an hour. Max. Unless I decide to stay longer. And—once there’s no longer a threat to the noodle boy and his friends from me—I can end the contract at any time.”

That part was important. No way I was getting tied to this thing longer than I had to.

He raised a brow at that. “Why would you want a clause that lets you break the contract at any time?”

I sighed, resisting the urge to roll my eyes right out of my head.

“Because if I’ve already decided I’m not going to take any jobs that target them, then why the hell would I keep a magical leash tied to my wrist?” I met his gaze, letting my voice drop just enough to make the point clear. “I don’t do long-term unless there’s a reason.”

He studied me for a long moment, then gave a small nod.

“Fair enough.” 

The moment the words left his mouth, something shifted in the air. A staff shot from the top of the tower like a comet, flying high into the sky Red at the top of it—only to be struck by lightning.

I winced.

Yeah. Red Son was definitely going to be feeling that later.

I turned my attention back to Sun Wukong. “Looks like I need to go deal with Red and get him home. So, do you have anything else to add, or are we good?”

He locked eyes with me. There was something searching in his expression—something I couldn’t quite read. But then he nodded and held out his hand.

“I accept the terms of this contract.”

I reached out and clasped his hand. My voice echoed his. “I accept the terms of this contract.”

As soon as the words were spoken, I felt it—the buzz of magic crawling up my arm, spreading warmth through my shoulder until it turned searing hot, then faded just as fast.

Contract sealed.

I stood from the warped table, grabbed the empty cup, and dropped a card in its place. The tracker in my pocket blinked to life as I activated it, scanning for Red’s location.

Turning back to the Monkey King, I gave him one last glance.

“My number’s on the card. Text me the when and where for our meetings.”

Then I raised a hand and waved lazily.

“Till we meet again.”

And before he could say anything else, I vanished in a swirl of pink petals—leaving behind a stunned Monkey King and the faintest trace of magic in the air.

The world snapped back into focus as the last of the pink petals scattered on the breeze. I landed lightly on a quiet side street, far from the noise and chaos of the fight I’d just walked away from.

Dusk soaked the city in gold and gray. The light stretched long across the pavement, casting everything in shadow.

I checked the usual spots—corners, rooftops, alleys—out of habit more than need.

Clear.

Only then did I let myself lean back against the brick wall behind me. It scraped against my jacket, grounding me, and I finally let go of the breath I’d been holding since before the teleport.

The silence pressed in, thick and still. For a moment, I just stood there, letting it settle. Letting it soak through the noise still rattling in my bones.

There it was—that flicker of feeling, slow and deep and a little too heavy to be called triumph. Not joy. Not pride. Just… the quiet knowledge that I made it out.

I survived. Take that, the consequences of my actions!

A tired smile tugged at my lips, more reflex than emotion. I tipped my head back and looked up at the sky. Purple clouds smeared across the fading light, like bruises on the horizon.

I got out alive.

Unharmed.

Unhunted.

And bound to Sun Wukong by a contract he proposed.

It should’ve felt like more of a win. But maybe I’ve just been running too long to celebrate anything properly anymore.

Still… it wasn’t nothing.

The terms weren’t perfect, but they were better than I’d hoped for. I can’t kill the kid or his friends, and if I’m present, I can’t let him die. But harm? That was never ruled out.

He was in such a rush to be done with it, he didn’t even think to tighten the wording.

Not that I manipulated him into it, exactly. I just let him reach the conclusion I wanted. I kept things vague. Let him assume. Let him get frustrated enough to offer what I needed without realizing what he was giving up.

It wasn’t clever. It was just survival.

He added the check-in clause. He insisted I visit. He thought it would be a way to “keep me in line.” I agreed. Nodded. Acted like it was a leash around my throat. Let him think it was his idea to hold the chain.

Five grand a week. A magical contract. One meeting a month.

It sounds simple. Clean. Like I’m being paid to play nice. But nothing is ever that easy.

The check-ins will be another kind of cage—just a quieter one. But I’ve lived in worse. And if it means access to Wukong’s knowledge, his relics, his wards… then maybe it’s worth it.

I need that edge. My body won’t keep up forever. The way things are going, I might not always be able to outrun what’s coming.

And I remember what Demon Bull King said—called Wukong a hoarder. Dismissively, almost. But it stuck.

If he’s holding onto ancient tools, lost spells, protections no one else remembers how to use, then I need to learn everything I can.

Because when the white coats come again—and they will come—I want options. Not just fists and flight.

So yeah, this was a win. Not clean. Not easy. Not without its cost. But still a win.

I just have to keep away from the kid. Avoid the emotional tangle of his little crew. Show up for the check-ins, keep my head down, and stay useful.

Why Wukong wants to see me at all, I don’t know.

Maybe he wants to keep an eye on the Bull Family. Maybe he’s testing me, seeing if I’m a threat. Maybe he’s just curious.

Whatever the reason, it doesn’t really matter.

I looked down at the tracker in my hand and sighed.

Red’s still out there. I need to make sure he got home—or get him there myself. After that, I’ve got other work to take care of. And then… Breezeblock. He’ll want to hear it from me.

That it’s done. That I held up my end.

The world dissolved again into the swirl of soft pink petals as I teleported to Red’s location, the weight of everything I’d survived still clinging to my skin.

As the world gradually came back into view, petals gently floated to the ground around me. My eyes followed their descent, settling on none other than Red Son sprawled on the pavement, his eyes unfocused and spinning. It was clear now—I had been right. He hadn’t managed to make it back home.

Surveying the area, I saw the remnants of bull clones scattered around him. That explained why he hadn’t moved since I last saw his location before leaving Sun Wukong. Red was unconscious, and the bull clones had been shattered by the lightning strike.

I let out a soft sigh, my gaze lingering on Red. I had tried to warn him. Kneeling beside him, I gently poked his cheek. “You alive there, Red?” I asked softly. He responded with a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a growl. So, he was alive, but not fully present in this world.

I nodded to myself, contemplating the situation. Then, carefully, I wrapped my arms around him, lifting him slowly to his feet. His weight was heavy against me, and I let out a grunt as I steadied us both. Locking my knees, I concentrated on channeling my magic, feeling it flow through my veins like a warm current.

I closed my eyes, picturing the infirmary within the Bull Mansion. Teleporting alone is straightforward, but doing so with another person is a challenge. It requires skill and focus, especially over long distances. Even the most talented can only manage to transport five or six people at a time without breaking the journey into segments.

When I opened my eyes again, we were in the infirmary. Soft pink petals drifted to the floor around us. The bull clones stationed there spun around at our sudden appearance, initially taking defensive stances. Recognizing me, they relaxed, swiftly moving to assist when they saw who was leaning heavily against me.

Gratefully, I relinquished Red to their care. I watched as they gently placed him on a table and began the treatment process. I knew he would be fine in the end. His pride might be bruised, and he would carry a few physical bruises for a couple of weeks, but he would recover.

Satisfied, I turned and left the room, my thoughts shifting to my next task. I headed towards Lady Iron’s chamber, mindful of the other part of our contract. The seal was starting to heat up since I was so close to her. 

When I reached her door, I knocked, certain of her presence inside. A soft yet commanding voice responded, “Enter, Kitten,” from beyond the massive door. It was built to accommodate the Demon Bull King, so like most doors in this mansion, it was grand and imposing. I placed my hand on the cold stone, channeling my magic through it, and the door responded by slowly swinging open.

Red Son, a genius in magical engineering, had designed technology that allowed doors to open with a touch of magic—one of his more practical inventions. As the door creaked open, I took a moment to take in the room's opulence.

To the left, a grand bed was perfectly centered against the wall, its plush coverings luxurious and inviting. Nearby, two braziers filled with glowing red coals cast a warm, flickering light, carefully positioned to provide warmth without risk to the bed. To the right, a small step led down to a cozy sitting area. A plush couch faced a sleek coffee table, and a large TV stood a few feet from the wall, perfectly aligned with the couch. Behind the TV, a formidable battle ax was mounted—a relic from Lord Ox’s younger days, no doubt.

Directly ahead, a vanity was cluttered with an array of brushes, makeup, and hairpins. The small bench in front of it was just enough for one person. Sitting there was Princess Iron Fan, her reflection meeting my gaze through the mirror. I noted the absence of the Bull King, a small relief in the back of my mind.

Approaching her, I watched the graceful way she brushed her hair, each stroke deliberate and precise. Perhaps she was preparing to redo the intricate bull horn hairstyle she often wore. It was always immaculate, likely because she constantly maintained it.

Meeting her deep brown eyes in the mirror, I said, “So, I assume you know why I’m here.” She broke eye contact, placing the brush down with a soft clink, and raised a hand. A sudden gust of wind materialized, and when it settled, another chair appeared beside the vanity, facing her.

Taking the cue, I settled into the chair she summoned, watching her hands as they deftly parted her hair with a comb. “Yes, it seems you were busy making a contract while my son was humiliated,” she remarked, her voice calm but edged with disappointment.

“Well, I did say he’d lose if he fought that kid,” I replied, my tone light yet firm. She cast a brief glare my way, and I shrugged in response, maintaining my composure. She sighed softly, rolling her eyes, then returned her focus to her hair, each movement poised and deliberate.

“So, what is it this time?” she asked, her interest piqued as her fingers skillfully twisted her hair into place. I paused, knowing the terms of our agreement. Part of my contract with Princess Iron Fan allowed me to take on other jobs, provided they were magical contracts, and required me to inform her about them. If a contract included secrecy, I had to disclose as much as I could without violating those terms.

She wanted to be aware of my activities when not directly serving them. It was a bit of a nuisance, but manageable, and I didn’t have to inform other clients unless they inquired. The Monkey King hadn’t requested confidentiality, despite knowing my affiliations, an oversight on his part.

I shrugged and began, “He wanted me not to harm the boy and his friends, and to check in at least once a month.” She paused mid-brush, one eyebrow arching in curiosity.

“I’m surprised you can tell me anything; they usually negotiate better deals with you,” Lady Iron mused, her voice a blend of admiration and intrigue. I nodded, offering another casual shrug.

“Well, I annoyed him enough to distract him from asking, and I believe he hadn’t made a contract in a long time.” A knowing chuckle escaped her lips, familiar with my tactics from firsthand experience. She understood that I often managed to subtly guide others into outcomes I desired. Whether they realized it or not, I usually emerged victorious in a way.

“So… who was the fool this time?” Her voice was smooth as velvet—and twice as suffocating. “One of the Fanboys friend’s you took pity on again? Honestly, you need thicker skin when it comes to the lesser creatures crawling around us. You tied your own hands with that deal—even if my son would never actually let you kill his prey.”

I met her brown eyes.

“Oh, none other than Sun Wukong offered me the contract first.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, she sputtered and started coughing, dropping the section of hair she’d been about to pin into a bull’s horn. It made her look a little disheveled as she leaned back on the bench, slapping a hand to her chest to try and force the air back into her lungs.

“SUN WUKONG?!”

Her eyes flared with pale yellow energy—dim and sharp, like sunlight filtered through ice. It didn’t warm. It pierced.

“You made a contract with him? With the monster who destroyed my family? Who turned us into fugitives and shattered everything we built?!”

“Why in the heavens above would you even entertain a contract with that monkey? Did you lose your mind?!”

She slammed one of her delicate hands down onto her vanity, hard enough to rattle the objects on it. A piece of hair fell in her face as she shouted at me, unpinned and forgotten. I looked away, gaze dropping to the floor.

Then she stood from her seat and began to walk toward me—slowly, deliberately. It forced my eyes back up to meet hers.

I said nothing.

I couldn’t. My voice wouldn’t work—not without cracking. And I wasn’t going to let her know how much her words were getting to me. How fast my heart was racing now.

Not because of Wukong. Not anymore.

Because of her.

The shame curled hot and low in my gut. The guilt sat like lead in my chest. And worse—worse than all of it—I knew she was right. Maybe not about the betrayal, not completely, but the weight of it? The way it looked? The way it felt?

Yeah. That part was real.

“He sealed my husband,” she hissed. “Left my son fatherless. He made me run, Kitten. Hide. Beg. I gave up everything just to keep our name breathing.”

Every word struck like a lash.

And gods, I wished I could argue.

I wished I could say she was wrong. That it hadn’t been that bad. That it hadn’t left scars.

But I’d seen them. Not all of them were physical. She stepped closer, every word digging deeper.

“And then I brought you in. Off the streets. Half-dead. And I made you part of this family. I gave you food. Power. Belonging. And you—you—turn around and sign a magical contract with him?”

I swallowed hard.

My fingers had curled into fists at my sides, nails biting so deep into my palms I could feel the warm sting of blood welling beneath them. But I didn’t let go. 

I couldn’t.

I needed the pain. Needed something to ground me. Because if I didn’t hold on, I might fall apart right here. I wanted to curl in on myself as she yelled. I wanted to sink into the floor and disappear entirely.

But I didn’t.

I couldn’t meet her eyes anymore—but she hadn’t been there. Hadn’t sat across from him. Hadn’t stood face-to-face with someone who made it clear you wouldn’t survive a wrong answer. Someone you couldn’t defeat.

I know my limits. I’m not a brawler.

I’m powerful—stronger than most. But Wukong? He’s something else. A close-range fighter with better control over his magic, centuries more experience, and immortality on his side.

What the fuck was I supposed to do?

I’m a long- to mid-range fighter. I win my battles by thinking ahead, by hiding in the shadows, gathering information, striking before the enemy even knows I’m there. My magic helps me—but it can’t carry me through a drawn-out brawl. Not with him. I’d never outlast Sun Wukong in a head-on fight.

So I made the contract. Because I had to.

But even now, standing in front of her fury, I kept my spine straight. My face unreadable. My body still.

My fists still clenched so tight I was sure the blood was pooling down my palms.

I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing me crack. Even if I already was.

Because the truth was… I hated this. Not the decision—I stood by that. I’d survived. I was alive. I’d made it out with something. That wasn’t nothing.

But this?

This silence between us. This disgust in her eyes. This bitter, hollow disappointment behind every word. That’s what gutted me. She was the closest thing I had to—

I clenched my jaw before the thought could finish.

Don’t go there.

Don’t call it family if you’re going to destroy it to save yourself. 

But I didn’t mean to destroy anything this time.

I’d been cornered. Cornered and face to face with him, and I did what I had to do to keep breathing. That should’ve counted for something. Should’ve mattered.

Shouldn’t it?

Shouldn’t it matter that I didn’t cave? That I didn’t beg or grovel or break? That I manipulated a legend into giving me an out?

But I knew better than to say any of that to her. She wouldn’t hear it. She’d only hear the name. She’d only see the signature burned into the figurative parchment. The physical  proof of the contact on my shoulder in the form of a seal.

And all it would mean to her is that I was his, not hers. Even if that wasn’t true. Even if I hadn’t moved an inch from the moment she made me one of her own. I didn’t betray her. I protected myself.

I did what she taught me to do. But none of that would matter now. Not while her eyes still burned with that pale yellow fury. Not while I still hadn’t found the courage to say the words that kept choking me:

“I didn’t want to make you ashamed of me.”

Because I knew I had. Because I could see it on her face. And gods help me… I didn’t know how to fix it. Even when in a logical world I did nothing wrong. 

She didn’t even know the rest of our contract terms.

That I have to go to his place once a month. That I’m required to spend at least an hour with him. If she did know… she’d probably explode the same way Red Son does when things don’t go his way. Maybe worse. And the sad part was that I had to tell her, even if I didn't want to.

Her and my contract demands that I tell her about any and all magical contracts I enter outside the Bull Family the moment I’m near her. In return, she gave me a place to stay. Food. Protection. Stability.

If I ever touched the seal etched on my hip, she’d know where I was. She’d feel it instantly—that I was overwhelmed, that I couldn’t handle what was happening. That I needed her.

I never used it. Maybe that’s part of why she’s so angry. Besides the obvious—the fact the contract is with their sworn enemy, the one who tore her life apart—there’s this deeper, quieter hurt underneath it. The part she’s not saying. It’s the fact I didn’t call for her.

But… why would she be angry about that?

I told them he was still watching the kid. I’d told them days before that he hadn’t let up. That he was just waiting. I gave them everything I knew, every piece of truth I could safely share. What I hadn’t expected was for him to come to me. To sit across from me in the middle of a clean, silent street and make it clear—leave the kid or I’ll kill you myself.

And still… I got out alive.

I made a deal with a being who could’ve ended me with a flick of his wrist. I walked away with breath in my lungs and power on my terms.

But it didn’t matter. Because now she was angry. Disappointed. Ashamed of me. I could see it on her face, plain as day. No mask. No veil.

It didn’t matter how long I’d been with the Bull Family, or how loyal I’d been, or what I’d done to stay alive. All she saw was the name on the other side of that contract.

I felt my chest tighten, and my throat began to close again. The shame curled cold and sharp in my stomach. And I couldn’t say a word.

God, how pathetic of me.

The pale yellow glow had begun to fade from her eyes as the silence stretched between us. The space between her fury and my silence was heavy. Thick. Unbearable.

She sighed.

It wasn’t theatrical, not loud—but it dragged through the air like something old and tired. She ran a hand down her face, dragging her palm along her jaw before turning away and walking slowly back toward the bench.

Her movements weren’t tight anymore. Just exhausted. Like something had slipped loose inside her. She sat down heavily, her frame smaller than it had looked moments ago.

She didn’t look at me right away. Instead, she turned toward the mirror.

And stopped.

Her gaze fell on the corner of the vanity. A picture. Small. Hand-painted. The colors faded from age. The details crude, almost illegible. But I recognized it.

Red must have made it when he was a child. It looked like some version of a family—three shapes, three halos of color. Their old selves. Before the war. Before the fire. Before Heaven turned their name into a curse.

Her fingers didn’t reach for it. But she stared at it like it was something she didn’t know how to hold anymore. 

Then, finally, she looked back at me. “Listen, Kitten…” she said, voice quieter now, rougher. “I…” She paused. Her lips trembled just slightly before she pressed them into a line.

“I was out of line,” she admitted. “You didn’t deserve that.” The words didn’t feel like they were for me, entirely. “You didn’t deserve to take the brunt of my anger at him. It’s not your fault he tore my family apart all those years ago.”

Her shoulders fell just a bit more, like she’d let go of something she’d been gripping too tightly for too long. But her eyes—there was a flicker there. Something that hadn’t eased. Grief. Not the screaming kind. The slow-burning one that never really dies.

“I’m aware of your limitations,” she continued. “And… after giving it some thought without being blinded by my rage, you had every right to make a contract with whomever you saw fit.”

Her voice sounded steadier now, but I could still hear the weight behind it.

You had the right.

Not you did the right thing.

“You warned us he was watching the fanboy. We didn’t take your words seriously enough. That’s on us.” I watched her glance at herself in the mirror again, smoothing a strand of hair behind her ear like it was muscle memory. Like it helped keep the pieces of her mask together.

“I’m sure you kept Sun Wukong distracted so my son could have the fight he wanted,” she added. And there it was again—that hint of deflection. Of spinning it into something practical. Strategic.

I didn’t call her out on it. But I saw it. I always saw it.

She picked up her brush again and began combing through the sections of her hair that had frizzed during her outburst, each stroke deliberate. Rebuilding herself.

I let out the breath I’d been holding, forcing my fingers to finally relax. My hands were stiff. My palms stung.

I looked down. Tiny red crescents stared back up at me. Still there. Still proof of how hard I’d held on. The tightness in my chest hadn’t gone away. I doubted it would anytime soon. But I could breathe again. A little.

“I…” I started, then steadied my voice, kept it quiet and even. “Can I tell you the rest of our contract?” She nodded without looking up, keeping her hands busy as she pinned the sections of her hair back into the familiar horned coils.

I took another breath.

“Once a week, he wants me to meet with him. I have to tell him what the noodle boy’s been doing when he’s not around to watch him himself.”

She didn’t react yet. Not visibly.

“If I see the kid in danger… I can’t let it happen. And I’m expected to handle the threat in the way MK would want.”

I looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her hand froze. Her knuckles had gone white on the brush. But she didn’t explode.

Didn’t scream.

Didn’t cry.

She just stared at her own reflection like it had betrayed her. Her silence screamed in the way her words hadn’t. And I saw her—really saw her—beneath all the grace, the poise, the practiced composure.

She wasn’t just angry at me. She was angry that this still hurt. After all these years. That he could still reach into her life through me. That even now, she wasn’t free of him.

She exhaled slowly through her nose, reined herself in with impossible control.

Then, at last, she nodded.

“Okay. Thank you for telling me.”

She set the brush down with care. “You’re free for the rest of the week. Go get some rest.”

Then, with a flick of her wrist, she waved her hand in my direction.

A swirl of wind and magic gathered beneath my chair, forming a miniature cyclone that wrapped around me, lifting me off the floor and into a teleportation spell.

And just like that, I was gone. Chair and all. Dropped neatly into the center of my room.

That was one way to end a conversation. I didn’t move right away. Didn’t even blink.

The room was too quiet.

[wei-smiler]

I'm trying to create my OC, and this is an introduction about her

My English is not very good, so there may be some translation mistakes.:¯ᯅ¯:

Shiro is the 11th mask hidden away. Unlike the other generals, Shiro was not one of the oni during Taratudo's rule in Japan. She is approximately over 600 years old. In her self-narrated origins, 200 years after the end of Taratudo 's rule in Japan, as a princess of the emperor, she accidentally stumbled upon stories about oni and became intrigued, delving deep into them over time. As time passed, her research into oni became increasingly profound, gradually leading her to obsession. She then used her self-created black magic to transform into an oni, wreaking havoc in Japan for 60 years single-handedly before being subdued by a benevolent wizard into the mask.

Now, by a stroke of luck, she has been discovered and worn by vanish. Vanish wears the mask, her thoughts are controlled by Shiro. As a shrine maiden, Shiro, relying on her acquired witchcraft, releases the shadow generals. However, being a natural witch, Shiro's ability to wield dark powers is somewhat insufficient. She can only manage to create the physical bodies of the generals with great difficulty. Consequently, the generals must rely on themselves to regain their powers. Compared to the Vanish's body, Shiro prefers her own. Therefore, after releasing the shadow generals, she takes back her own body.

Just before being subdued, Shiro was determined never to go solo again if given another chance. So, after possessing Vanish, she immediately rushes to undo Taratudo's seal based on Vanish's memory, marking Shiro and Taratudo's first formal encounter.

"Because I am powerful, it is only natural for many men to pursue me; because I am powerful, only equally powerful people are worthy of me." Shiro holds such a belief. Therefore, in her first encounter with Taratudo, Shiro mistakenly believes that Taratudo would definitely become one of her many suitors.

It's worth noting that the stone slab in the Temple of the ShenDu that records the history of oni is actually a ceiling mural in the shrine built by Shiro for the oni. Shiro visits her family home and exclaims: "Haven't seen each other for centuries, and my family hall has turned into an open-air one!"

Also, because Shiro has delved deep into the history of oni, she knows their habits well. However, the oni know nothing about Shiro.

Moreover, Shiro enjoys boldly questioning the oni about the authenticity of some scandalous tales, but most of the questions are too inappropriate. Each time they are questioned, the oni eagerly try to prove their innocence, which Shiro enjoys seeing.

Shiro's third eye is not just for decoration; it can indeed see things. And it doesn't close when she sleeps. So if someone wants to play a prank while she's asleep, getting caught is just a matter of minutes.

Shiro also assimilates despairing humans into her Shadowkhan.

Her lower half is a shadow. It can morph into any shape. For example, she morphs her lower half into the shape of a horse. When Ikazuki sees this, he instinctively pulls out a saddle and prepares to jump on.

[ficthots]

Bonded: Chapter Six

A/N: Hello everyone! My absence has ended and I am back writing once more. I've missed you all and I hope this makes up for it. Please remember, this is a hobby and sometimes life overtakes hobby time. Luckily, things have seemed to even out for the time being. As always, enjoy and let me know what you think!

Word count: 5.2k+

Chapter Five

Weather holds more power than most people will ever realize. A planet’s atmosphere has wondrous effects on the life below which is why with each planet you travel to, you will experience a climate you never have before. It was one of the first things you noticed on this galaxy trek.

How one day you can look up and see the crystal skies beaming back down at you, offering immaculate views of the horizon far off in the distance. Yet, landing on another planet just the following cycle, storms wreak havoc over the innocent civilians down below unleashing a fury that blows eyes wide open in surprise and fear.

Demolishing anything that stands in its way, altering life as you knew it right before your very eyes. Watching as lives are ruined, some spared, others continue as before with little to no change.

Packing for such weather was difficult to do. Hence why nearly your entire wardrobe had been brought with you on this trip. As your cruiser descended on a tiny spec in the sector, the humidity pummeled you immediately. The condensation formed on the windows as a repulsive greeting and then dripped downwards towards the forever soggy ground.

A small sigh escaped your mouth as you knew how uncomfortable this short day was about to become. This wasn’t even a planet on your list. A courtesy stop if you will. An unplanned detour that you knew would only last the afternoon and early evening before continuing on with your actual planned route.

“I can only imagine what sort of creatures thrive in this type of environment,” Calista murmured with her nose almost pressed flush to the glass. Briefly looking up from your notepad you watched as Tamsyn began preparing for landing.

Only humming in response, there wasn’t much enthusiasm in your reply. You were exhausted. Having been traveling for nearly two entire months, your journey was finally nearing the end. Another week and you would be back home.

Home.

It was odd to think of the ship in that way, but that was what it was. Home. A sense of longing to go back to it, sleep in your bed, see Kylo. You couldn’t believe that you missed him.

Your eyes drifted to the string on your wrist. A gift before your original departure. A safety measure. A token of thought. That you were occupying his thoughts just as much as he was yours. As your thoughts descend into him, the rough landing of the ship jolted you out of your little world.

Tucking the bracelet under your thin gauzy sleeve, you stood as the ships door opened, allowing you to step into the jungle terrain. This was their opportunity to sell themselves to the Order. Explain how they could be of use. With what you could see, it wasn’t much.

Yet as you walked down towards the small gathered crowd to greet you, they were all beaming with enthusiasm to see you, the Empress, actually here visiting. Tamsyn and Calista were hot on your heels, your personal guard so close the armor he adorned nearly pressed into your side.

A precaution courtesy of Kylo and General Waylan. One you didn’t believe was necessary, but your own thoughts fell onto deaf ears. You weren’t even offered his name. No indication about who he really was.

He was just…there. All of the time. A shadow stapled to your own. When you moved, so did he. He was in charge of all the safety measures in regards to this trip. And he was certainly displeased to discover you made a decision to stop on this desolate crater without informing him earlier.

The leader stepped forward enthusiastically, his robes trailing on the moss ridden steps he descended to reach you. “Empress, we are beyond honored to welcome you here. Thank you for taking the time to join us.” As your eyes settled on the thin man, you nearly fell backwards. The striking resemblance had you hesitating to utter your own greeting.

An immediate cold sweat erupted over your body. The man looked eerily similar to the one who had lost his head at the gala. The gruesome memory flashed in your mind as you watched the lifeless eyes stare at you. Courtesy of your husband, but almost as fast as it hit you, the feeling faded. Almost as if he disguised himself when he saw your discomfort with his appearance. Those fully black eyes now had irises, the color still coal, but some ivory peeked out.

Perhaps your mind was playing tricks on you, you thought to yourself.

As he spoke, he clasped your hand within his own and brought it to his grayed forehead. There was something different about them as you took in the odd faces of the civilians. All looked different than each other, but it was as if they weren’t entirely real. A mask over their true selves. You weren’t entirely sure. But your guard was immediately up.

For being in such a bright and warm environment you couldn’t help but fight the chill that shot up your spine from the ice cold grasp he had. Their eyes almost one solid color, bordering on black, but not quite fully gone. They all appeared grey, no hint of color anywhere on their forms. The palace behind them appeared desolate.

The stark green vines enclosed around the sandstone brick that was almost completely gone beneath the never ending greenery. The varying creatures and animals chirped through the forest, cocooning the group in a symphony of songs. Not one of comfort, but one of warning.

A warning you ignored to heed.

Your hackles were raised without so much as a second thought. “It is our pleasure, Monton. I hope you don’t mind the short visit. We don’t have much time together, but I am looking forward to getting to know you and your people more intimately.” His smile stretched across his taut skin, making him appear less human as he did. Your pleasantries second nature to you despite the overwhelming sense of dread filling each of your senses.

A few hours was all you needed to muster through. Then back to the scheduled trip. You echoed that lifeline in your mind over and over to keep your nerves rested.

Stepping to the side, he gestured towards the ancient building. “Shall we?” Nodding in reply, you turned toward your guard. “We won’t be long, if we need assistance I will call.” His helmeted head only bowed before turning on his heel and ascending the stairs back aboard the ship.

You prayed you wouldn’t need his assistance. A few hours.

Tamsyn and Calista trailed behind you, not interested in any of the information this man was offering. Yet, they did not seem the least bit put off by their odd appearances or behaviors. It ran through your mind that you were being overly cautious. His similarities to the man from the gala had knocked you off your game, but no one seemed to pay that any mind.

You were hardly listening either. The entire time he spoke your thoughts were occupied with what rubbed into your wrist. The bracelet so delicately clasped around your skin felt as though it was burning an indentation, leaving its permanent trace behind in its remembrance.

“Your presence has been requested by the Supreme Leader, Empress.” You were sat in your living quarter, the final details of your galaxy journey had been finalized that afternoon and you were beyond spent. Pulling yourself up from the comfortable cushion, you followed the Order official to wherever they were leading you.

When you arrived at a section of the ship you didn’t recognize, you spoke. “Where is the Supreme Leader?” He stopped walking as he approached to extremely large doors that were monitored by three different entry systems. “Supreme Leader Ren's quarters, Empress.” He turned towards you with a subtle bow before turning and leaving you standing alone in the darkened corner.

You could recall the doors from your private tour with Kylo, but you had been brought an entirely different way and didn’t recognize where you were.

Not sure what you were supposed to do, you walked towards the different identification panels and attempted to solve how to enter. You weren’t entirely certain how long you were stood there, but when the door receded into the walls with a loud whoosh accompanying, you jumped up.

There he stood, helmet removed, gaze immediately pinned to you. “What are you doing?” He spoke, not a crack of emotion on his face, voice the standard deep monotone you were accustomed to. “Um, they said you requested me. I couldn’t figure out the door,” you nervously responded.

A slight tilt to the corner of his mouth was all you received as he returned inside. “Come with me.” You followed a few steps behind him. Eyes darting around to the new sights, the smell of him wafting over you entirely. It was incredibly neat, like no one had ever resided there.

The dark furniture was exactly what you expected. Everything drenched in reds and blacks, his signature colors of course. Almost cliche, you giggled to yourself. The sound alerted him, causing him to turn and face you to see what had you laughing. “What?”

Only shrugging you were still smiling. “Nothing. Just that your quarters are exactly what I expected. The blacks and reds, you know?” Your fit of giggles continued as he eyed you, eyes narrowing in your direction, a slight tilt to his head. Faded remnants of a smile graces his plush lips for only a mere second.

His head dropped, a small box sitting on the corner of a table. “Come here.” You immediately followed his orders, walking towards him and closing the distance. Knowing better than to try and battle him, you were nearly flush against him.

Grasping your wrist with his bare hand, electricity jolted through you. You despised when that would happen. Unable to hide the effect his simple touch had on you. This had been happening more and more. The more time you two spent together, which was occurring much more frequently, it only riled you up more.

His touch was incredibly delicate, the long and nimble fingers worked quickly and effortlessly. It was gone as fast as it had appeared. A slight twinge of sadness nestled in your stomach at the loss of contact. Your eyes never left the new addition on your arm.

It was simple, just a black string with a fabric you were not sure of, a small gemstone sitting squarely in the middle. A glow cast out around the unidentified stone, sitting on your skin. Eyes finally peeling away, you cast your gaze upwards to see his features already studying your own.

He never faltered despite the close quarters you two were currently in. “Specially made by request of myself.” Your brow furrowed in question, looking back down at it. “It’s a beautiful bracelet, Kylo. Thank you.” Offering a genuine smile, you felt warm.

Kylo had specifically gotten something made for you. Gifted to you by Kylo himself. You couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit more…special. That he was going out of his way to please you, bring a small sense of joy. Even if it was a stretch to anything more than him trying to appease you.

“This is for…my piece of mind while you’re gone, dove. If you are in danger, I can only use the Force to communicate with you when I feel the need to. I cannot always sense if something is wrong. I’m still attempting to sort out what this bond means and how to use it. For now, this will do.” His hand cupped your wrist once more, his thumb hovering over the gem.

Clearing his throat he continued. “You press this gem down and to the right. It will immediately track your location and notify me that you are not well. Promise me you’ll wear this the entire time you’re gone, dove?” The gentle tone in his voice had butterflies erupting in your stomach as he spoke so plainly with you.

A knot formed in your throat, but you nodded eagerly. “Of course. Thank you for this. So, just down,” he nodded, his hair lightly falling forward at his motion. “Down and to the right.” You smiled at the demonstration and peered back up at him.

Holding eye contact for the following few seconds was the most intense interaction you two had yet. Peering into one another, it was almost like you were able to communicate with him through look alone. A silent heartfelt thank you for caring about my safety. A glimmer of an unknown emotion first registered in his eyes, then his entire face, before fading.

Admiration? Joy? Something you didn’t quite know how to label because, well, it was Kylo. He only ever showed two emotions. Rage and annoyance. Nothing more, nothing less. A side to him that no one else ever got to see. Reserved solely for you. In these private moments.

Pride bubbled in you at the knowledge that no one else in the entire galaxy saw Kylo in states like this. His hardened facade broken. Not without great effort on your end. In fact, it had been painstaking work for months on end.

After Kylo request to attempt a new beginning with you, you decided to agree to his offer. Whatever that meant for him. After the first couple of days and no changes, no sightings of him, you reached out.

An invitation to accompany you at dinner that evening in your quarters. No response had been given and you were quickly losing hope that anything was going to change, an empty guarantee from him. Then, just as the table had finished being set and you were notified that dinner would be served as soon as you were ready, he entered your quarters.

Not able to fight against the smile that took shape on your face, Kylo looked extremely awkward. Unsure what he was supposed to be doing. Yet, attempting to make the effort. Even though it was almost pitiful to see his obvious discomfort.

Deciding to take the lead for the night, you welcomed him in. You weren’t quite sure of yourself enough to try anything physical like a hug, but you lead him into the dining room. Sitting at opposite ends of the table, you mainly ate in silence.

But he was there and that was a victory all in itself.

You didn’t ask him back the following evening, but he came back anyways. And nearly every night since then. Unless he was gone on a mission, it was almost a grantee that Kylo would be at your dining room table, enjoying a dinner with you.

As these meals happened more frequently so did the conversation. At first, extremely basic and generic, testing the waters to see how well you two could communicate. It didn’t take much time for you to warm up to him enough that you were constantly sharing stories of your childhood, upbringing as a royal, funny experiences you had since joining the Order as their Empress.

Kylo pitched in with conversation despite choosing to let you fill the void of his lack of words a majority of the time. Even cracking smiles, his eyes and features more life like and softened with happiness. You know you had made great progress when you got a laugh out of him for the very first time.

It had been like striking gold. A melody of tone you had never heard and weren’t sure you would ever again. Such a beautiful sound you never wanted to forget it, never wanted it to end.

The following night he had arrived at your quarters for dinner, you eyed the table set up. Grabbing your plates and utensils, you ushered yourself down to his end of the table, sitting on his left side just like at the meeting tables. His eyes watched your movements daringly, unsure of what exactly you were doing.

But when you seated yourself and gave him a large smile, he felt an almost sense of…relief. Having you choose to be so close to him. Something no one had ever done. Dinner carried on like nothing had changed.

The new behaviors of the infamous Kylo Ren had started to bleed out into other aspects of your relationship as well, including professional. One afternoon, you two walked the corridors of the ship together, chatting about your upcoming travel plans, when his hand landed on your hip, pulling you away from a wall of storm troopers rounding the same corner. His hand firmly pulled you into his side, his helmeted demeanor seething at the group. “Watch your movements.”

Instant apologies to Kylo and you were spoken. Your heart rate never went back to normal after that. At one supper, Kylo had asked you if you had ever flown a ship. He was instantly taken aback at your response of no. “When I return from this mission I will be teaching you how to pilot a ship.” You were giddy for his return, counting down the cycles until we was due back home. Unable to contain your excitement when Kylo had entered your quarters for dinner, you crossed the room and embraced him. A warm smile greeted him in accompaniment despite his entire body stiffening the way it did.

It didn’t phase you in the least. Speaking about how you had missed his presence at dinner. His cheeks warmed to a pink hue at the terms of endearment. He spoke, clearing the waver in his voice as he did. “I’m taking you flying tomorrow.”

The following day had been the best you two had ever spent together. That morning, Kylo appeared at your door and you followed him. What was supposed to be just a flying lesson turned into an entire formal tour of his section of the ship. He showed you where his training facilities were, where the Knights of Ren were located, the entry to his residence. You didn’t enter, but at least you now knew where he was located at.

The tour wrapped at the massive bay of ships in the hanger. You were nearly jumping for joy when you knew what was next. Wandering eyes monitored the two of you as Kylo led you towards the ships. A duo that was unanticipated. The Kylo Ren watching as the Empress of the First Order looked like an excited school girl.

You truly didn’t care. As you approached one of the ships on the fleet, you turned and beamed at Kylo. “This one, right?” He shook his head, motioning for you to follow him. Stopping in your tracks, your jaw hung ajar.

“You’re going to let me fly your ship?” The smirk that danced across his mouth had your heart doing somersaults. A squeal escaped your lips, rushing towards the tall man and crushing him to you in a hug. Your arms wrapped around his neck, feeling the soft locks of his raven black hair tickle you, your cheek pressed against his neck. It ended as quickly as it had happened. You didn’t look at his reaction before quickly climbing aboard the Supreme Leaders personal ship.

With only one seat in the cockpit, you weren’t sure how this was going to work for you to learn. Kylo followed you in and within a minute was situated in the pilots seat securely. Standing off to the side, you were about to ask where you were supposed to sit when his arm wrapped around your waist.

Grabbing you from behind, he dragged you effortlessly to his lap. You were in a fit of giggles at the fast motion. Adjusting yourself to sit comfortably for however long you two were about to fly, you were ecstatic to get on with your lesson.

Both of Kylo's arms came from the sides, caging you in as he grasped the controls and swiftly left the hangar. Despite thinking you were going to be taking up too much of his space and view, he flew the ship like it was nothing.

He was silent behind you despite your constant chatter and observations of the planets that flew by. As you two settled on a desolate planet, you were ready to begin. His warm breath fanned across your cheek and neck as he spoke, goosebumps erupting over your entire body.

Fighting the chill that shot up your spine, the slight tremble in your hands you were able to play off. “I’m nervous,” you chuckled, rubbing your hands across your pants. “It’s simple. Here,” he lifted your hands to grab the controls, his sitting over your own.

Given the nature of his sheer size in comparison to your own, you could hardly see your own flesh beneath his own. “Alright dove, you always want to make sure that these lights are on,” Kylo fell into his detailed explanation of the control panel and what each thing meant.

You weren’t sure you could place the exact moment he called you dove for the first time, the term of endearment awarded to you by friends and family, but it was almost second nature to him now. Mainly using it instead of your name or your titles.

It sounded different coming from him. Felt different. Like you only wanted him to use it. Holding a different meaning than everyone elses uses. You adored it. Waited for it to fall from his lips with baited breath each time. Knocking the wind out of you with each muttered dove.

It was safe to say that the flying lesson had not gone well. Apparently it was more of a natural talent activity than you realized. After nearly driving it straight into the ground, you erupted in laughter.

Kylo held onto the controls as you lost control of your laughter. He chuckled smally to himself. “Alright, we’re done for today. I don’t need you destroying the best ship in the fleet.” As your chuckles faded, still seated firmly in his lap, you smiled widely at him.

“Thank you for today. It was a lot of fun,” without so much as a second thought, you leaned in, hand cupping his jaw and turning his head towards you. It nearly happened in slow motion, that first kiss. Feeling the soft, tender flesh of his lips meld to your own. The shock waves that exploded over your body was unlike anything you had ever experienced. You never wanted to stop. But you did and when you pulled back and opened your eyes, you watched as his grip tightened on the controls, you smiled to yourself.

He cleared his throat, refusing to look at you. “You’re welcome.” Kylo left the next day for a mission that he desperately needed. Some space from you so he could catch his breath, readjust his bearings, figure out what was happening between you two. Why he wanted to be sitting at a dining room table with you instead of making progress that he needed to make.

Why he was dreading your trip. That he wouldn’t be near you for so long, unable to do anything to protect you while you were so far. He had his own copy of your schedule, but that wasn’t enough.

Instead, he assigned one of the highest regarded troopers to be your personal guard through the duration of the trip. One he knew you wouldn’t accept unless it came from someone other than himself. Waylan quickly agreed and you accepted with little word otherwise.

Perhaps he was slightly obsessed. Which is why he constructed the bracelet on his own. Something that would allow him direct access to you should you need him. Not that he wanted to bother you, but he still didn’t know the limit of the bond you two shared. Wanting nothing more than your protection covered while away from him.

Seeing your reaction to it as he placed it on you was a relief. Seeing that you seemed more sure of yourself wearing it. Knowing that you could contact Kylo as quickly as possible. A slight weight off your shoulders.

If only you knew what was in store for you.

The tour had dragged for so long and was so dull, you had sent Tamsyn back to the ship to prepare for your departure. The stories shared with you were sending alarm bells tolling your head. Far too similar to the mans from the gala to be purely coincidental. You knew at that moment why they had wanted you to come here.

When you had returned back to the palace you began to take note of some alarming things. Guards blocking each doorway and nearly every window, being led further and further through the maze of doorways and twisting hallways, the men that were directly behind you and Calista were seemingly moving closer and closer.

You knew something was seriously wrong when you entered what appeared to be a drawing room with no furniture present in it. Offering as polite of a smile and interruption you could, you spoke. “Would you mind allowing myself and my lady speak privately for a moment?”

The king nodded, ushering his men out with him, one last eye locking glance in your direction before shutting a door. You wasted no time, whipping around to face her, fumbling to unclasp the bracelet.

“I need you to listen to me very carefully, Calista. I need you to remember every thing I’m about to tell you.” She looked bewildered as you began to speak quickly. “You are going to leave this room as soon as I am done talking,” as the bracelet fell off, you cupped it. “You are going to board the transport and tell the pilot to not, I repeat, not go to the next destination.”

Calista had no idea what was happening. “What are you talking-” you cut her off. “Calista, please we don’t have a lot of time. They are going to be back any minute. These are the same people from the gala just with some sort of disguise on. They are going to attempt to track the transport which is why you are not to go to the next destination.” Her eyes quickly began welling with tears.

Stuffing the bracelet into her palm, you forcibly closed her hand around it. “You are going to get as far away from here as possible. An unknown world or moon or something, okay? As soon as you get there the Order will have already been notified that we have not arrived at our scheduled destination.”

She sighed, going to speak. “But Kylo-” You shook your head. “They won’t tell Kylo because they know he will not be happy and they will want to solve it themselves. When you get to wherever you go, you will activate this.” Calista opened her hand to look at it.

“Push down and twist to the right. It will immediately send a signal to Kylo with your exact location. He will get there very fast and when he does, he will be furious. Kylo will read your mind after you tell him about the events that have happened. You must tell him this was my plan, do you understand?”

She sniffled as you continued on. “I’ll be fine. I want you all to get to safety.” Calista pulled you into an embrace, whispering in your ear as she did. “I’ll-I’ll tell him everything,” you offered a relaxed smile to try and qualm her nerves. “Kylo will find me. Now, go. You need to go.” Pushing her towards the doors, she glanced once more at you before rushing away.

A shaky exhale escaped your lips, fear pummeling you at what was about to happen. The leader returned mere seconds later, a large inhuman smile on his features. “Ah, where did the beautiful Calista go?”

Smiling politely you spoke. “To ready the ship for us. I want to thank you for your generosity and enthusiasm today, but we do have a schedule to keep to.” As you took a step back, the leader and his men made one towards you.

“So soon, Empress? We were hoping to enjoy supper and share more tales of our people. Our traditions.” Sweat dripped down the back of your neck. “Unfortunately, it was a fast trip. Perhaps next time we can extend it.”

His smile fell immediately. All warmth snapped from him in an instant. “No. I think you don’t understand.” In the blink of an eye, both of your arms were restrained by the guards he had brought back with him.

The king crossed the room leisurely. “You need to let me go. You know they will look for me.” He smirked as he approached you. Twirling a strand of your hair around his straggly finger, he inhaled deeply. “No, I don’t think they will, Empress. None of you will be leaving here today.”

As soon as he finished, the roar of the transports engines flooded the palace. Barking out an order in an unfamiliar tongue, you let a devilish smirk cross your face. A snarl emulated from him as he whipped his hand back before making contact with your cheek, drawing a surprised gasp.

It was just the start.

Nearly two full days later, their transport ship collided with the rocky terrain of whatever desolate planet they had found. Calista activated the gem as soon as they landed and just as you had said, Kylo ship touched down not long after.

The burnt landscape around them displayed his anger that he had unleashed with his saber upon discovering you hadn’t gone with them. Almost the entire area around them had been decimated.

What you didn’t realize was that Kylo had been unable to connect with you. Despite all of his efforts, the moment he had been notified of your missing status, he couldn’t find you. Connect with you. Speak with you.

Perhaps too far from him. Given you weren’t Force sensitive, this was uncharted territory. One he didn’t realize had a location cap. When you had sent him the ping of your location, it was lie salvation had washed over him.

Upon discovering you were not onboard that ship and had sent them off without you, it only ignited his rage. Far beyond the point of anger, he couldn’t believe you had put yourself in this situation. One he didn’t know how to solve. Fix. Get you back to him where you would be safe and protected.

Kylo's robes whipped around him as he turned and stalked towards the group who had watched the entire scene unfold before them. “Notify all of the Order that my Empress has been taken and is missing.”

He climbed back into his ship, beginning the search for you. His Empress. His dove.

[bloopitynoot]

Reading SVSSS: Chapter 18

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

New chapter, new cup, and back on my tea drinking! Today is another past year ren faire hand made cup with a Blueberry Jasmine tea.

This is present me rn - having finished this chapter- I WAS NOT PREPARED WHAT THE FUCK; what a goddamn jump scare of a read! D:

let's get ready for the notes journey so you can see me descend into a cacophony of sound:

Okay the visitor from last chapter was not Luo Binghe, and I really thought it might have been- it is in fact Liu Qingge! p159

Where is Luo Binghe though?? p159

Side note: unrelated, but a little bit related- adjacently related if you will - to the plot -> Big Same Shen Qingqiu! When I see a fan I too have to give that baby a firm crack! p159

Also real as fuck. LQQ: "what's up with you and Luo BInghe?" SQQ: I don't really know, but here we are LOL" p160

What did Liu Qingge see in the room that made him trip up/pause??? (I am sure we will find out later but still what the heck) p162

I'm crying at the strike out over here "His current attire and appearance was exactly identical to the Luo Binghe from before the Immortal Alliance Conference: the model of flawless and pure disciple of a major sect, the image of a pretty, diligent, and competent young wife, it really...really...was..." p162

Why am I so suspicious about the breakfast service Luo Binghe has for SQQ. p163

I love how the two of them in disguise in this very obvious trap of basically every powerful cultivator and sect is Luo Binghe changing his facial expression and SQQ being like "well I've been away for a while they will never recognize me" stealth check natural 1 for sure for sure p168

ewwww. anything to do with Old Palace Master. I really hate this guy, this story is so fucked. honestly poor Luo Binghe rn. pp171-172

oooo! New quest from the system: Raising Righteous Image Points! p176

more me appointed points to my 'SQQ is the damsel/love interest narrative', "In conclusion: So the female lead's role was going to be Shen Qingqiu again, huh?" p177

THANK YOU! This guy is the only one talking sense. Tianlang-jun really did nothing to start this whole war. He was only tricked and then essentially had the shit absolutely beat out of him. I dont even think the rumour he was going to wreak havoc and kill a bunch of humans was true- probably made up by butt hurt Old Palace Master. p181

ugh. Poor LBG having to hear all these people talk about his parents, their story, and how his mom hated him so much she tried to abort him. what the fuck, that's enough to mess anyone up quite badly. pp181-183

LBH: SQQ: my heart!!! pp 186-187

OFC LBH would be blamed mid Menty-B for the random demons being present. p189

Also so valid! the sects really are using the same tricks they used on Tianlang-jun. You know what, i'm really starting to stand with these demons - they have been done so dirty! p190

Hell yeah Yu Qingyuan stepping in! p191

Everyone here wants an explanation- how tf are they going to explain any of this tho LOL p195

Oh fuck, oh fuck! He hit zero points! p196

wait...alternate punishment? p197

Oh dang, he really just collapsed p197

AH! What's happening in the dream punishment. Is the punishment SQQ having to live with the original novel Luo BInghe and forever pining for him LOL? pp 198-199

Oh shit. Luo Binghe is totally figuring out that Shen Qingqiu is not his original Shizun p201

HE TORE HIS ARM OFF?! P202

MORE LIMB RIPPING P203

WHAT WHAT WHAT!!!!

THIS IS WILD.

What a horrible punishment OMG.

[allforone-appreciation]

A Look Into All For One's Daily Routine (PRE-potato)

7:00 AM - Rise and shine, for the world trembles at the mere thought of my awakening. 7:10 AM - Morning cuddles and kisses with my precious wife, Inko and indirectly praising her for surviving another night beside the most feared villain-turned-family-man. 7:45 AM – Wake my baby son up, then have a villainous breakfast, consisting of coffee, eggs, waffles, and a side of intimidation. 8:15 AM - Conduct a nefarious board meeting to discuss evil plans for the day. Check on my ‘side businesses’ and make sure I’m ‘making’ money. 9:00 AM - Meet with underworld contacts. Expand my influence and power. Remind them who’s boss. 10:00 AM - Time for some "me" time. Attend an appointment with my personal tailor to ensure my villainous attire strikes fear into the hearts of heroes. A scheduled manicure is included every Wednesday. 10:45AM - Wreak minor havoc upon the city. A villain's work is never done and sometimes the blond idiot stops by. It's all about balance, you see. 12:00 PM - Lunch break: Consume the souls of those who dare oppose me. Wine and steak are the usual. Depends on my mood. 12:30 PM: While I’m having lunch, I usually log into my social media and contribute to All Might hate pages. The villain subreddit is my go-to. Update my Demon King fanfiction while I’m at it. (This entry is completely satire) 1:00 PM - Plotting session: Strategize with Tomura on how to conquer the world then make Kurogiri do all the work and babysit him. 2:30 PM - Business calls. Time to collect those debts and remind people why they shouldn't cross me. A few well-placed threats should do the trick. 3:00 PM - Pick up some "unfortunate souls" from the streets. Gotta keep the operation running smoothly. While I’m at it, I’ll supervise the training of Tomura and young villains-in-training. 4:30 PM - Time to head home. Can't wait to see Inko and my beloved son, Izu-baby. 6:00 PM - Dinner with the family. Nothing beats Inko's cooking, except maybe her smile. 7:00 PM - Quality time with Izuku: Help him with his homework, impart wisdom about the ways of the world, and play hero-villain with him. 9:00 PM - Bedtime routine and tuck my cute son into bed. Goodnight, little one. Daddy's gonna (hopefully) kill All Might tomorrow. 9:30 PM - Quality time with Inko. Sometimes the best evil plots are hatched ‘between the sheets’. 11:00 PM - Prepare for bed: Ensure all evil plans are in motion for the following day and that my reign of terror will continue unabated. Sometimes a book about totalitarianism and tyranny with a glass a wine is included. 11:30 PM – Time for a goodnight sleep. I need my beauty sleep to maintain this dashing appearance. Tomorrow, the world will tremble at my might once again.

Note: Schedule subject to change depending on hero interference, unforeseen villainous schemes, 'business trips' and holidays/weekends.

Please tell me what you think I had so much fun making this 😂😂😂😂😂 I might make a POST-potato schedule. I love this man so much can you tell.

😂 I'm laughing because honestly this very much seems like his schedule. Doing both evil stuff while also being dad for one at the same time is how he rolls. Like awww he loves his famil- Wait he picking up ORPHANS AND PLANNING PEOPLE DEMISE?

LOL, I need more of a Day in the Life of a Demon Lord. Because this is great also seems Inko gets quite a bit of attention at night. Though we can already see he definitely not going to see All Might coming when he comes with a Detroit smash.

But man I love how casual he is about his appearance and his affection for his family being quite wholesome. While also still doing evil things, you anon get it.