#and another one who died of a heart attack when seeing its owners face when they were trying to get it out from under the bed

[mikoyamisheadcanonblog]

Asherah Q & A (1)

1.) Their pet goldfish dies 💛💜

Probably a little depressed, she wasn’t attached to the goldfish or anything and she was more likely at fault for killing it as she would forget to change its water or feed, or even overfeed it to make up for the days she forgot. But on the days, she did remember it, she did enjoy watching it swim around in circles, she probably whispered to it all her little secrets and emotions she wouldn’t share with anyone. She enjoyed giving it a fun name ~~probably named after one of her favorite k-drama actors or K-pop stars~~. When she finally figured it died probably a couple of days after she would remember she would need to feed it and find it dead. She would hold a small memorial for it and spend the rest of her day watching the fish swim around the sub.

2.) A robber has broken into their house while they are home! 💛💜

Grabbing the first thing she can use as a weapon. She isn’t letting the robber get away with anything and will take justice into her own hands. Depending on the strength of the robber and if she could surprise them or not, she would slam their head with either a ‘thick book’ ‘frying pan,’ or even an umbrella or baseball bat before calling the police to handle everything. She would act unbothered by everything but in truth, she feels violated and a little freaked out for a few weeks and sleeps next to Law or at Law’s place.

3.) A random person gives your OC a hug! 💛💜

She freezes up. She doesn’t like hugs; physical touch does make her uncomfortable. When their grip weakens she wiggles away and pushes them away. She isn’t a fan of physical touch from strangers and will visibly look uncomfortable as well before insulting the person who hugged her.

4.) Some idiot has challenged your OC to a bar fight! 💛💜

Ash will take on the challenge, depending on the person’s strength, she will either win or lose. She is tough and will use anything she can get her hand on and use it as a weapon. At times she will add fuel to the fire taunting the person hoping their anger will blind them when they choose to attack. She will try to make it a larger bar fight just to make things more chaotic and if she feels like she is losing she will try to get away from the chaos. If Law and the Heart Pirates are there, they will protect her before it gets bad protecting her from being attacked or hurt. After everything, Law will lecture her on her reckless behavior.

5.) Your OC has stumbled upon a basket of abandoned, adorable kittens! 💛💜

She will not leave the island till she finds a home for every kitten. She can’t keep the kittens, life on the high seas makes it difficult to care for animals and she isn’t responsible it would be the job for Law or his crew to help care for the pet. So, she would help trying to find a good home for them, asking questions to the new owners, and seeing if they are the right fit. Only after she found the right home would she feel a little sad saying goodbye to the kittens and feeling the weight of what it means to travel and not have a home to come back to.

6.) Your OC is faced with their worst fear! 💛💜

Ash’s worst fear is everyone she cares for and loves leaving her. She made so many mistakes in her life and feels like she is a person undeserving of love, when she finally finds love she is worried they will leave her. Worried her past mistakes would haunt her and she should be unforgiven. She will be in tears, tittering with her suicidal thoughts and trying to put a brave face in front of people. While asking her sister to forgive her.

7.) Someone has made your OC's favorite food for dinner! 💛💜

Ash would be delighted that someone did cook her favorite meal, not that she would show it, she would act nonchalant and eat the food treating it like another meal. Though she wouldn’t touch the food if she were to eat alone, sharing her favorite meal with friends always makes the food taste better.

8.) Sees a defenseless person being chased by a monster. What does your OC do? 💛💜

Ash would act like she doesn’t want to help, and it is a pain and an ass trying to help someone who doesn’t want to help themselves, but the guilt would get to her, and she would find herself helping the person to the best of her ability. She finds it difficult to leave a defenseless person, alone and in the end, joins their mission and defends them.

9.) A invading army is setting siege on the city your OC is staying at. What does your OC do? 💛💜

There isn’t much she can do; she doesn’t know the politics of the city or island she is staying at to get involved. She will pay for meals and leave before getting involved.

10.) Your OC sees that their crush or significant other is being Bullied. What do they do about it? 💛💜

Law is always getting bullied by the Straw Hats. She will sit and watch while he gets stressed out trying to get them to follow his plan or listen to him before giving up. He even gets taunted by Kidd or Luffy into doing reckless stuff. He is such a serious stoic man; she finds him falling for little taunts from other captains charming. Or how stressed he gets with the Straw hats human. She might join in a little, but he knows she will have his back when the time comes. He will bully her later for teasing him.

11.) Your OC is dungeon crawling with some friends and ends up falling through a trap door! Your OC then finds themselves in a torture chamber! 💛💜

She is freaking out a little….a lot. She is trying to figure away a lot while trying to stay calm and exploring the chamber. She is humming to herself and trying not to look at all the torture weapons. But also looking for cools and information in case it is needed when she does find a way out will she run out.

12.) Someone has stolen your OC's cookies! 💛💜

She actually doesn’t care, in fact she probably forgot about it.  Or handed It to the person. If not she gives an annoyed look and goes back to whatever she is doing

13.)Your OC catches their crush or significant other in bed with someone else! 💛💜

Ash has caught an ex cheating on her and has left her with deep emotional wounds where she feels she is not good enough. If she caught Law in another bed with someone else she would jump to the worst possible conclusion, it hurt much worse as she would feel she deserved it, and stupid for getting her hopes up.  Law has to corner her to explain the situation and win her heart back.

14.) OC's best friend is sick with a cold. 💛💜

She will try her best to help her friend, bringing in books her friends like. Checking in on her every once in a while. She is honestly a bit lost on what to do when her friend is sick at first, serving burnet soup and forgetting to bring heating pads or drink. She will call Law a lot to come to check on her friend being a doctor and all. He will sit with her and help her while her friend is sick.

15.) One of your OC's friends has stolen your OC's clothing while they were taking a bath in a lake! Your OC doesn't have any clothes! 💛💜

She is sitting in the lake trying to act unbothered, but she is embarrassed. She is sitting in the water, if she catches the person stealing her clothes, she will try fighting them naked, more blinded by anger than anything else if not she is sitting in the water. Not till another friend or Law comes and helps her out, he will give her his hoodie to keep her warm. He is fuming that a friend of hers did that to her, and Ash is planning revenge by burning all of her friend’s clothes.

16.) Its Christmas day and your OC finds coal in their stocking. 💛💜

Not that surprising, she has caused a lot of grief to people. She burned her ex’s bed, used harsh words to get on people’s nerves, and tried to hurt them to protect her feelings.

17.) The Zombies are attacking! 💛💜

Freaking out a bit, she isn’t a fan of Zombie moves as they do scare her. She will try her best to fight and stick with someone more prepared than her.  If she survives depends on if the people, she cares about are in danger or not. She will use herself as bait or to help her friends getaway.  If she does survive she tries to live like she normally would with her friends enjoying life the best she could.

18.) Your OC gets handcuffed to their worst enemy. 💛💜

Her worst enemy would be her father at the moment, understanding she is a disappointment to him and that she can never live up to his expectations. Conversations between them are difficult and curt. Ash loves her father. He feels the same but as both of them have hit the difficult part of their life Ash acting out and choosing the life of being a pirate. I am sure they will have a heart-to-heart to express all their hidden feelings before separating their separate way with more of an understanding of how they need to heal.

19.) Your OC finds themselves in a haunted house! 💛💜

Ash hates every minute of it, she is trying to act unbothered and brave, but she is scared, she can only handle so much till she is clinging to Law. He knows this and holds on to her, in fact, a few of his dates are around the fact she is scared and clinging to him. He holds on to her tightly and comforts her.  While she might be scared, she takes great comfort in being in Law’s arms.

20.) Your OC has received a nasty flesh wound from battle! 💛💜

She is in a lot of pain; she is trying to hide it, so she isn’t a burden on anybody. She will hold off as much as she can, ending the fight. She faints from the amount of pain she is in and after the long battle is over and she is the definite winner. Law catches her before she falls and takes her to his operation room, he is keeping a cool composer, but he will do ever he can to keep her alive and keep her safe. After everything is stable it will be a long lecture on her being reckless and to better take care of her health.

21.) Someone gross looking is hitting on your OC. 💛💜

Ash is annoyed, she isn’t a fan of people, and being hit on annoys her. She is enjoying her drink at the bar by herself, and some asshole is hitting on her. If she is in the mood, she will mess with the person hitting on her in an attempt to get free drinks or free food before choosing to ignore them. If the guy continues hitting her will she insult the person aiming to hurt and get rid of them. Law himself will get involved if she sees the person not backing down and she is in danger.

22.) Someone very important to your OC has just died. 💛💜

As it already happened, Ash feels it. She is forever haunted with survivor’s guilt as she tries to hide and act normal, but her loved one’s death will always haunt her. Always in the back of her mind. If she were to lose someone again, she would lose the will to move forward the guilt of still being alive while all her loved ones are dying would kill her. She would be a husk of her former self more withdrawn, and any progress she had moving forward would be gone.

23.) Your OC gets challenged to a drinking game! 💛💜

Bring it on, chances of her losing are high, but this is a challenge she will take and try not to lose also it is someone else’s tab. She will most time if she is chugging down the drink. If she thinks she is in danger or there is information she wants, will she refuse the challenge or accept and figure a way to cheat.

Profile OTP Q & A (1), OTP Q & A (2), OTP Q & A (3), OTP Q & A (4) Q & A (1) Night Terrors (Loving Law Zine)

[fromthegoop]

OP WHAT THE RODENTINE FUCK??

Due to centuries of cultural exchange there are a lot of similarities between the hamster religion and that of the chipmunks, both now being functionally death cults. The root of where they differ is how the two religions view this holy death.

To hamsters, death is an art form, an ever-ascending pillar of the strange and the grotesque. Hamsters seek beauty and uniqueness in death, venerating the most outlandish of the dead as saints: Our Lady of the Plumbing, Saint Tim the Blended, and Saint Ms. Cupcake Who Got Into That Barrel of Degreaser, to name a few. Through death, they connect with their god, whose immense corpse formed the world after choking to death on a stray asteroid. Hamsters will spend weeks planning their deaths and awaiting an opportunity to swan dive off this mortal coil.

Chipmunks follow a warrior’s religion. While hamsters embraced humanity as creators of new and exciting shapes and poisons, chipmunks never forsook their wild ways. Chipmunk culture idealizes the divine struggle: to face insurmountable odds and to die with honor. Only by throwing themselves under the wheels of a moving vehicle can they earn their reincarnation and escape the cruel jaws of the fox-god who awaits them in the underworld. Every chipmunk goes to their death secure in the knowledge that they have faced their fate a million times before and that they will face it a million times again.

Squirrel religion does not speak of death.

[xeo-kunsatan]

Haiku Caramel

Meet Haiku Caramel a Bard Witch

Age: 20

Race: Mobian Dog (Akita Inu)/Witch.

Neutral Magic/Bard Magic

Family: Unknown Witches (death) Hanna (Dead Mother).

Backstory

Haiku Born from a family of dog witches (mostly specialized in neutral or black magic).

In old times in the Mobian Society, the witches were considered a threat for the society, when a witch was found was quickly burned alive, and Haikus family wasnt the exception, he was just a 7 years child when a whole town found out his family practiced witchcraft and with no mercy burned alive his whole family and his Mother in front his eyes while he had to runaway from the town.

He was lonely but had to continue because his mother before died told him

¨¨Always Face everything with a Smile and play since your heart¨¨.

Until he was found by the Principals from Quartz Academy: Badhir and Elian (Twin Owl Witches) and raised by them, as well Haiku developed his magical skills and give himself to the Bard Magic (Neutral Magic) and obtained his own Bard Items.

At Growing old, he started to found a Job in the city of Mobius to overcome his traumas and give another chance to the Normal mobians, until he found a Job as Co Admin of Shadow the Heghehogs who runned a Departaments building (Look in my Universe Shadow is entrepreneur xd) as well the Baby sitter of his foster Baby Tempest (Also here Shadow is Single dad, Padre Luchon xd), also with the time falling in love with the same Shadow.

If you ask why the heck Shadow has a Building departaments? Gun gave that building to him and as Shadow didnt really have a fucking idea in what to do with that building he started to rent the departaments.

Hobbies

During his free time Haiku tends to attend the garden of the rooftop from Shadows Building (Also uses his magic to make the plants grow but when no one is watching) and play the violin there (A normal one, not the Wand because the CHAOOS!!), ride in his own motorcycle (Scooter type xd), dancing in that same garden when no one is watching (he is shy xd) and assits to the same Cafeteria

Phobias and Fears

Haiku Suffers of Ligirofobia and Arsonphobia, everytime he hears an explosion, the sound of fireworks or he sees fire, he enters into a huge panic attack and will quickly found a place to hide or turn himself into a scared fluff ball.

He is Also afraid of someone who discovers he is a witch and being judged and rejected or worst if they could try to kill him.

Natural Skills:

Hyper Howl

Hyper bite

Same skills of a normal dog

Magic Skills: All his spells depends of Haiku in playing the violin and depends a lot of the melody and how much he has the control on it.

Hypnotizing Melody (Depends of the melody he plays with the Vanilla Wand) (Bard Magic)

Chlorokinesis (Neutral Magic)

Hydrokinesis (Neutral Magic)

Potions creation.

Dark Holes Creation (Black Magic)

Curation ( White Magic)

Streght support (Neutral Magic)

Inmortality (When a Mobian becomes into a witch, becomes into a Long lived being or in case of the most powerful or higher witches immotarls).

Magic Items:

Vanilla Bag: Is a magic bag where anything can be storage there, even if its bigger than it own size

Melody Wand: Is a Violin form wand where Haiku can make his spells, as well this wand can shapeshift at its owner own to certain items (only a vroom but Haiku rarely uses this shape)

Personallity

Brave, a little stubborn, a little shy, Sensitive as fuck (he doesnt admit it) Gentle and chill, but he can become very affectionate and soft when he enters in confidence (even more if he finds a lover), as well he can be very aggresive when someone threats his beloved ones.

All his corporal expressions and lenguage are mostly found in his tail:

So if he gets in love, its very happy or very angry, his tail will reveal it.

[sinner-as-saint]

‘Till We Bleed Out - 3.

Vampire!bucky x reader AU

Part 3 of this series. 

Run-through: Your car breaks down on a deserted road on a rainy night. You have no other option but to seek shelter from the nearest house you could find; the mansion, which happened to be the talk of the town for its mysteriousness along with its equally mysterious owner, Mr. Barnes. The universe can be tricky sometimes but the fact that you found yourself at that mansion’s doorstep at that time was no simple coincidence. That one night changes everything forever - quite literally. True love, past lives and creatures from folklore; turns out it’s all real. 

Themes throughout the series: vampire!bucky, fluff, smut, angst 

“Calm down, sweetheart.” 

He must’ve noticed you were on the verge of losing your mind. How could you not? You had so many questions. So many things you couldn’t wrap your brain around. What was the meaning of all this? 

“What is this?” you pointed at the painting; scared, nervous and baffled. 

Bucky walked further in, careful as to not make any sudden movement which would make you even more of a nervous wreck than you already were. “I’ll tell you everything, doll. Just calm down, alright. There’s nothing to be scared of. I’m right here with you.” 

You looked up at him in surprise. “Nothing to be scared of? There’s a painting of me and you dating back to 1872. That was almost a hundred and fifty years ago. But I met you just two days ago. None of this makes sense, none of it adds up. And that doesn’t bother you?” you sounded more sad and confused than scared. This isn’t normal. None of this is. “Who are you?” 

Despite knowing that someone else in your shoes would be screaming bloody murder and running for their lives by now, you stayed put. Despite the confusion, you felt protected. Something inside you knew no harm would come to you while Bucky’s around. But the rational side of you couldn’t afford listening to that side of you right now. Right now your brain needed concrete answers, not reassurance. 

“No. It doesn’t bother me.” He walked over and held you gently by the shoulders. “And if you let me explain, it won’t bother you either.” One look into his eyes and you felt yourself calming down already. 

“Make this make sense.” 

After he got you to sit down, in that very room, he began explaining. 

“I’m not exactly human, Y/N.” His first few words earned him a nod from you. 

“I figured that out a few minutes ago.” 

He continued. “And neither were you, in your previous lifetime.” That sentence shocked you. You didn’t know what was more surprising, learning that there was indeed a lifetime before this one or the fact that in the previous one, you and Bucky knew each other. “We were both vampires.” 

“Oh my God…” 

He paused for a while, trying to be as slow and as careful as he could be with his words. “We were married, you and I. And we were happy.” He said so and waited for your reaction. 

Your eyes watered and he noticed. “I’m… I was your wife?” you asked and he nodded. You thought back on all the things he told you about his wife; those were all about you. Your heart felt like it was being torn in two. “And I died.” he nodded again. “How did I die?” 

He took a deep breath and lowered his eyes to the dark carpet beneath his feet, that memory was always the hardest to revisit. “Our families were not exactly… friendly. Yours hated mine, and vice versa so our marriage was not something they could bear.” He let out a dry chuckle. He continued, a strange fire in his eyes; burning hot hatred. “They kept trying to break us apart,” he smiled, sadly, “but we were strong. Together.” He looked back up at you. “Until one day…” 

He stopped talking. He ran his fingers through his hair, he was hurting. You felt the intense need to just get up from the couch you were sat on, and walk over to where he sat and just comfort him. Maybe hug him and tell him it’s all okay now. But you remained seated, you couldn’t move. 

“Bucky… I need to know.” You figured it was a delicate subject but you needed to piece it all together. You were a mess at the moment. 

“We were returning home and we were attacked. By hunters.” 

You sat up straighter. “Hunters?” 

“Vampire hunters. Two different parties. Each anonymously hired and sent by our own families, ordered to have each of us killed. But you know, back then hunters had rivalry against each other as well. And ironically, the groups of hunters our family hired were not exactly seeing eye to eye with each other.” He let out another dry chuckle. “Upon reaching our home, they all forgot their initial purpose for a moment and began butchering one another instead, in the name of looming enmity. And you and I got caught in the crossfire. ” 

He paused. If it were physically possible he would’ve shivered at the memory; so tragically vivid in his mind. You waited for him to continue. “But some of them also remembered that they had been ordered to kill us both, so our front yard quickly became a battlefield.” He sounded bitter, angry. “We fought them off for a while but we were terribly outnumbered. I was wounded, so were you, and I tried to reach you but…” he trailed off, took a deep breath and continued, “they got to you first.” 

You tried to find the right thing to say but got nothing. Bucky spoke up again. “I was helpless. I couldn’t move. I had to watch as they… took you away from me.” He finally looked up at you and you were in shock. “Those sent by your family, what was left of them after the massacre at least, fled. Those sent by mine finished their job.” The look of hurt on his face was unbearable. “And I begged them. I begged them to kill me too but they just left me there.” 

You felt a weight on your chest. That was brutal. 

“You died at our doorstep.” He still remembered the last few moments he held you before you left… 

-

He somehow managed to get up and stumbled on his way to you, bullets and sharp stakes pierced all over his body as well as yours. You weren’t gonna make it, and he knew but he still begged you to stay. 

“You can’t leave me. You promised.” He cried, cradling your head on his lap. “Don’t leave me.” 

He watched how you used the little bit of energy left to choke out a few words. “I’ll find you again. Someday. I promise…” your body was getting heavier and heavier. Bucky felt like he was dying too. “I love you, Buck.” 

And with that, you closed your eyes forever. He sat there, your lifeless body in his arms and he screamed and yelled and cursed the universe. He was wounded, he would be healed by dawn. But you wouldn’t. He survived the attack that day, but part of him died along with you too. 

-

You cleared your throat. “How do you… how did you know it’s me? How can you be sure? What if I just look like her?” you looked up at the painting and he did too. 

He gave you a soft smile. “Chamomile and lavender tea is your favorite. You like red roses. You have a fear of deep water but you love the beach. You have this weird obsession with snakes. You love red wine. You could practically live in a library. Thunderstorms comfort you. You get a lot of déjà-vu, more than anyone you know. Also, you surely have a birthmark on your back, below your left shoulder. It perhaps hurts sometimes and you don’t know why, because regular birthmarks don’t hurt.” 

Your eyes widened more and more as he spoke, but you gasped when he mentioned the birthmark. “How do you know that?” Very few people knew of your rather strange birthmark which tingled, burned and hurt sometimes. 

“You were staked through the heart from the back. It left a mark on you.” He answered. “Forever.” 

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to soak all this new information in. This was a lot to take in. 

You cleared your throat again. “I was a vampire.” You stated. Bucky nodded. “I married you.” He nodded again. “I can’t- how do I-,” 

“Hey, it’s a lot to take in. Take your time. Go to bed if you wish to.” His voice sounded so soft. 

Oh you couldn’t sleep, not with all this. You shook your head no, you had questions. “How long were we married for?” 

“Almost a century.” His answer made your jaw drop. 

“How old are you?” 

He chuckled. “250. Give or take a few years.” 

“Oh my God,” you sighed, genuinely surprised. You thought back on all that he said earlier, about your families, and asked, “You said our families were against our relationship.” He nodded. “Well, where are they now?” 

“Gone.” 

“What do you mean, gone?” 

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair again. “After you left, I was unhinged. My memories of the couple of decades after your death is a little blurry. Apparently I went seeking revenge. But our friends found me and brought me back to sanity before I was gone completely and they told me that I had destroyed each and every last member of both our families.” 

“You killed them.” It wasn’t a question. 

“They deserved it. They took you away from me.” He sounded so broken, and hurt that you could feel your heart burn inside your ribcage. 

“When you say ‘our friends’ you mean…” you trailed off not knowing how to put it. 

He nodded. “Other vampires, yes. Most of them at least.” 

“This is so crazy.” You mumbled, looking down at your lap. This was too much to handle all at once. Bucky got up from his seat and walked cautiously over to you. 

He sat down on the edge of the wooden coffee table right in front of you and held his hand out. You placed your hand in his without a second thought. “You always had faith in the universe you know. You used to tell me that one single lifetime isn’t going to be enough for all the love that you and I have for each other. You used to always tell me that you’ll find me in the next one as well. And you did. You kept your promise. You’re home now, to me.” 

You felt a tear slide down your cheek. Those words sounded so familiar. Bucky reached out and wiped the tear away. “I… I don’t remember. I mean, I’ve lived a whole life not knowing you were until just a few days ago and now… all this?” 

He brought your hand up to his lips and kissed your knuckles softly. “It’s almost dawn. You haven’t slept well. Get some rest, we’ll figure it out. We always did.” 

You couldn’t argue. You needed to not think for a while, so you just nodded and got up. He didn’t follow you as you made your way to the bedroom and threw yourself down on the bed. You closed your eyes and slipped into a dreamless sleep. 

The next day, you spent most of your morning in the room; unable to leave the bed. Each time you thought back on all that was revealed to you last night, your head hurt. Wanda was kind enough to come in and leave you your meals. She didn’t say a word, just polite smiles. Bucky came by as well, each hour or so to check up on you. You weren’t ready to talk yet. He understood. 

You spent the rest of the day looking out of the window, into the vast backyard. The weather was still gloomy, much like your mood. 

After dinner, Bucky came by again. With tea this time. You gladly accepted the cup, remembering how it helped you sleep better the other night. Bucky was about to walk out but you stopped him. 

“Stay. Please.” You said, your voice a little strained because you had cried earlier, unable to understand the wave of emotion which washed over you. He rushed to sit next to you, on the edge of the bed. “I’ve been having dreams.” you confessed. 

“What kind of dreams?” 

“About you. About us, together. About ballrooms I’ve never been in, about people I haven’t met. And this house, ever since I got here it feels like I’ve... “ you trailed off, unable to find the right words. Or maybe the words were too crazy for you to utter them out loud. 

He finished your sentence. “Like you’ve lived here before?” 

“Yes.” You nodded. 

He smiled. “It’s because you have. This is your home, our home. Those aren’t dreams, they’re your memories.” 

Another tear fell down your cheek. Well, that made sense now. That would explain why your ‘dreams’ were so detailed. 

Bucky stayed and talked to you until you felt sleepy. He kissed you on the forehead, whispering a ‘goodnight’ once you got under the covers and was about to walk out of the room but you stopped him, yet again. 

“There’s something else.” you said. 

He stopped right at the door and turned around to face you, “Yes?” 

“The day I got here, when you opened the door, I…” you reminded yourself that he deserves to know, “I felt this pressing need to tell you that I finally found you. I didn’t understand what that meant then.” 

For the first time in a long time, Bucky genuinely smiled. And it was breathtaking. His smile was gorgeous, contagious. “Goodnight, sweetheart. I’ll see you in the morning.” He left. 

You fell asleep rather quickly. And dreamt, again...

Kisses under a grand chandelier. Blue eyes, laughter and wine. Pure bliss. 

“We should get going, sweetheart. It’s late.” Bucky whispered, holding you close. “And I can’t share you any longer. I need you all to myself now.” He kissed along your jaw, making you giggle. 

Home. At last. Only just as you got down from the carriage, you realized something was wrong. Pain, pain everywhere. 

Bullets, stakes, sticks, stones - everything hurt. You heard someone screaming as you were being dragged away from Bucky. It was you. You begged for mercy, but you didn’t receive any. Then suddenly, a spot on your back burned. It hurt more than anything you’ve ever experienced. You realized you were being staked through the heart, and it was too late. You couldn’t fight back. 

The pain, although excruciating, was replaced by fear. Fear of having to leave Bucky behind. Bucky… where was he? 

Your vision got blurry, you fell to the ground. You tried to call out for him but no sound came out of your mouth. You were fading away. But then you saw a pair of dark eyes which slowly turned blue and teary. 

“Don’t leave me…” 

“I’ll find you, I promise.” All the years you spent with him flashed in front of your eyes. Your wedding, and the decades of pure happiness which followed. “I’ll find you…” 

You woke up gasping again, covered in goosebumps. You had a terrible headache as it all came to you at once; memories of a forgotten lifetime. You struggled to breathe; it felt like being hit by a violent wave and being pushed deeper beneath the surface. Your birthmark burned hot. And your lungs felt like they were on fire. 

You sat there in bed, breathing hard and fast as you remembered everything. You realized you had tears streaming down your face. It was all too much, but you kept searching for more. And the more you looked the more you found. You felt like you were about to pass out. 

1802, when you first met Bucky. Married in 1808. You died about 90 years after that. You remembered. You remembered it all now. Your cruel family, and his. The bloodshed of that night. And how you died at the doorstep of this mansion. This mansion… your home. You knew this place like the back of your hand. This is your home. 

You’re home. 

You called out, not too loud, knowing he would hear you still. “Bucky!” you held back sob. How did you survive all these years? Without him? 

“Bucky!” you called out again, crying out loud this time. You heard his footsteps running down the hall. And your heart raced. 

You had been so close to your home this whole time, so close to Bucky, in the same town. You just didn’t know.

[heliads]

Journeying Through It

Based on this request: “zoya imagine where the reader holds and comforts zoya after a nightmare about her aunt and the darkling expanding the fold?”

masterlist

It is difficult to rest when you know you are being hunted. It is even more difficult when you can’t stop thinking about what you’ve just seen, when you’ve been forced to come to terms with the fact that everyone you trusted turned out to have been lying to you all along. You trusted the Darkling; you trusted Ivan and the Heartrenders and every other Grisha who somehow found themselves in the Darkling’s war room. And, in the end, it was all for nothing. 

Now, you lie in fitful sleep in the mouth of a cave, tossing and turning as if the knowledge that the newly expanded Shadow Fold is only a short distance from you can keep you from truly letting your guard down. It’s not good, what you’ve been through, and the horrors of the journey through the Unsea are taking their toll on you now. 

The worst of it should be over, yet you doubt that you’ll find safe harbor anytime soon. Even if Alina Starkov somehow managed to dispatch the Darkling back to the most hellish part of the making at the heart of the world where he belongs,  you’ll still have to contend with Ivan and the Darkling’s supporters. A regime such as that one does not come about by itself, and it will not die off easily, either. You’ll have to burn it to the ground yourself, whether or not you’ll have Inferni backup to help you.

In the end, you’re forced to come to terms with the unfortunate truth-you have no idea how many friends you have left at the Little Palace, or how many would be willing to help you. All you know right now is that you have yourself and Zoya, with Alina fled with her tracker for safety. Despite everything, you find you can’t blame the Sun Summoner for wanting to leave- at least now she can rest and try to stop blaming herself for what happened out in the Fold. 

Right now, you and Zoya are camped out in a small cavern along the edge of Novokribirsk. Even now, despite the apparent postlude of peace following the events on the Darkling’s sand skiff, the two of you still can’t quite bring yourselves to stay the night in one of the empty houses in the town. Maybe you want to be hidden from a possible second attack from the Darkling’s men, who would likely canvas the town searching for you, or maybe you’re still apprehensive to close your eyes in a town full of people who had died horrific deaths before your eyes mere hours ago. 

Zoya had looked at you with a hollow gaze when you’d brought up the issue of where to stay for the night. She’d said something about not wanting to stay in any of the houses in case their owners came back. Neither of you mention the obvious, which is that none of these houses will ever be filled again. They’ll stay empty until they’re torn down or some new scavengers move in-after all, monsters and volcra fodder cannot return home. 

So, you’d headed back to the scraggly edges of wilderness around the town, and found a suitable place to spend the night. It’s out of sight from any searchers who might wish you harm, and from here, you can’t see the details of the cracked and broken city below. The two of you are exhausted from the day’s fight, and subsequent horrific discoveries, so you lay down to rest at last. Alina, Mal, and the three thieves from Ketterdam are long gone to the docks; it’s just the two of you now. That’s all you could want, at a time like this. 

There’s a faint sound from beside you, and you turn slightly to find its source. A faint smile appears on your face when you see her-Zoya Nazyalensky, for once not barking orders or issuing challenges but lying still. For once, she’s forced to let her emotions catch up with her. Only in sleep, it appears, will she be unable to stop running from everything that haunts her. 

Another soft cry tears at the quiet fabric of the night, and you look closer at her. She’s having a nightmare, must be, because her brow is so knotted with worry that it almost looks like she’s going to war against herself. You worry now, too, at what would make Os Alta’s finest soldier tremble like a stalk of grass against the force of her own fearsome storms. 

You lean forward, rocking her slightly, but she does not respond. You curse softly under your breath. You hate to see Zoya like this, in any kind of pain, so you know that you have to wake her. You reach out a hesitant arm, pulling her close to you so at least she’ll feel sheltered when she wakes. Your voice is quiet and insistent when you speak at last, permeating the cave like the snip of scissors from a well-trained seamstress. 

“Zoya.” Nothing. You try again. “Zoya, it’s me. You need to wake up.” After a few more gentle taps, she awakens with a start, sitting up so rapidly you have to lean back to avoid hitting her. Zoya’s breathing is fast and irregular, and for a while, she’s unable to say anything at all. You reach for her again, and she takes your hand uncomprehendingly. You don’t even think she truly recognizes you until you speak. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay. It’s just a nightmare. We’re safe.” Zoya stares at you for a moment, desperately trying to gather up the scraps of her usually protective aura of an uncaring general, then collapses into you. You pull her close, her face against your collarbone. When she speaks, her voice is so quiet that you can barely hear her at all. 

“I saw it. I saw her.” Zoya doesn’t have to elaborate for you to know what she’s talking about- her aunt lived in Novokribirsk before the Darkling had his Shadow Fold swallow it whole. Zoya was one of the Squallers tasked with moving the sand skiff through the Unsea, so she had the perfect vantage point to watch her aunt’s hometown be swallowed up by darkness and monsters. If she’s having a nightmare about it now, it must mean that she cannot find it within herself to do anything but roil in the guilt that she could do nothing as her aunt died. 

You press a kiss to her forehead. “It’s alright, love. There was nothing you could have done. I know you don’t want to hear that now, but it’s true. What’s done is done. All we can do now is try and rebuild.” Zoya sighs, and you swear you can hear the very air rattling in her lungs as she tries to hold back a sob. Such is the flaw of being an Etherealki- you can tell exactly when the person you love the most is hurting. 

“She saved me when I was younger. I should have been able to save her.” Zoya’s eyes are wide, and she stares around the room as if half expecting the Darkling himself to emerge from the depths of the cave so she could strike him down and finally have peace. You put on a comforting smile, drawing it over yourself like a cloak. “I know, Zoya. I know. I hate that you couldn’t do anything about it.”

A pause, then Zoya’s voice follows yours. “So do I.” You rub absentminded circles on her shoulders, her back. Anything to remind her that you’re still here, that you won’t leave. “She wouldn’t expect you to do anything about this either. You know that, don’t you? There was absolutely nothing you could have done, and that’s okay. At some point, you will have to forgive yourself for this.”

Zoya looks at you uncomprehendingly. “How? How is there any way I could let this go?” You take her hand, pressing it once to your lips before continuing on. “You don’t have to let her go, just the guilt. She wouldn’t want you to drown in it, not like you are now.” Zoya sighs. “I know, I just-I don’t know that I can, or at least not now.” You nod encouragingly. “And that’s okay. I just want you to rest, love. Let down your guard.”

Zoya hesitates one last second, then lies back down. “Thank you, Y/N. I mean it.” You smile at her, even if she can’t see it in the darkness of the cave. “Anytime.  You helped me survive in the Fold, so I’ll help you now. That’s how we work, isn’t it? We have each other’s backs.” Zoya kisses you one last time before settling back into sleep. “That we do.”

grishaverse tag list: SORRY I FORGOT TO ADD TAGS BESTIE FORGIVE ME  @underc0vercryptid​, @deadreaderssociety​, @cameronsails​, @aleksanderwh0r3​, @story-scribbler​

[stabbysideblog]

[DSMP]

Techno's 80th day

Prison arc day 217

"I have-"

"A story?"

"You sound so excited I thought you hated them?"

"I've been bored Techno, at least they were something."

"Want to hear it?"

"Duh!"

"Once there was a man. He was incredibly lucky, from a young age he realized he wasn't the strongest of his peers, he wasn't the fastest or even the most liked. He was the luckiest. Whenever they flipped a coin to decide who would be cleaning or carrying the heaviest items he always seemed to win. As he got older he used this luck to his advantage, he gambled. At first, it was small things. A few bucks, a shift at work, once he even got a bike in a raffle.

The man may have been lucky but he wasn't charismatic, he never could keep a relationship. He would hook up at night but by the time morning came all the passion of the night seemed to evaporate. No relationship of his seemed to last longer than a month. It wasn't until he turned 32 that he finally got into a relationship that lasted. His boyfriend was a handsome man aged 36 with deep brown eyes and the softest smile he's ever seen on a person. He loved him deeply and was loved just as intensely back. They bought a dog together and after a year were planning to get married.

The man's luck only extended so far, his country was plunged into war. Lucky as he was he couldn't evade the draft. His husband, too old to be sucked in himself stayed home. The before he was to leave they cried together through the night. In the morning his husband watched from the doorway with the dog as his soulmate walked away to what would be the next however long of his life. A goodbye kiss and a promise to watch the dog lingered on his lips.

War was bloody, disgusting work, and the man hated every second of it. It was during a run from one trench to the other that he was shot. He didn't die, not immediately. The man, lucky as always, staggered into a forgotten trench as a bomb blew away the rest of his troop that had managed to keep running. The air was thick with blood and gunpowder. The man's breath stunk of dying.

His eyes drifted shut. They did not close. There was a figure standing in front of him. He blinked and realized with a start he couldn't feel his wound. His first thought was that he had died and was a ghost but when he moved it was his body that moved, blood still seeping out of that gaping hole in his side.

'No you haven't died yet' the voice was young and old, sad and relieved, bone-tired and energetic, the voice was death in all of its complexity.

The man's head shot up. It was a baby! Death stood in front of him two feet tall with chubby cheeks and wrinkles so deepset they could only come from an eternity of misery and anguish. A white cloth gently swayed around the being and a funeral shroud came to his mind. The child waved at him, his hands went from a dark black of dead cells to the moldy green of gangrene then, at the final knuckle of each finger was just yellow bone.

'Hello? Can you hear me?' it repeated tilting its head, a single drop of blood hit the floor oozing out of its ear.

The man nodded. 'Y-Yes. What do you want? Are you here to take me away. To kill me and deprive me of my future?' He wanted to cry out, to fight this strange being but his limbs wouldn't comply.

'No, I have an offer for you. 5 games. If you win two. I will grant you any wish. If you don't? I win.' The baby smiled and he could see its teeth, far too sharp. Animalistic.

'Don't you usually have to win 3 out of 5?'

The thing laughed, it sounded like it was screaming. 'I am very lucky'

'So am I.'

'Then this should be fun.'

And so they played. The man won the first game, and the second, and the third. By the time he won the fourth game Death was red in the face and threw the cards to the ground. 'You win. What is your wish?'

The man smiled. 'I wish to live forever but die when I want.'

Death looked surprised. 'I have lived for an infinite number of lifetimes and only 4 times have people defeated me. You're the only one who has wished for that.' The creature snapped its fingers and the man felt his wound start to throb. 'Enjoy your immortal soul' The last thing he saw before his vision faded to black was the smiling face of death.

He survived. He survived the war winning many medals that he felt he never once earned, he was just lucky. He had beaten death though, still drunk off the win he returned home to his husband. They had missed each other and there was no greater happiness than when they reconnected. Well, maybe not.

The man gambled. He won every game. He never considered it a problem, he didn't lose. Even if he pissed off the wrong people he would never die. Everything dissolved into a game of win-lose-earn. He was on the hunt for another big win. He won millions of dollars but it wasn't enough. He traveled around the world for games to win. Eventually, his husband left him, he didn't notice until the next week when he came home to an empty bed and a tearfully worded letter on the kitchen table. He was not invited to the funeral. He didn't even notice, he had games to attend to.

It was a casino in London that he found the thrill he was looking for. The owner of the casino was rumored to have never lost a game. He booked a flight and was sitting at the table by the next night. His opponent was a decrepit old man who handled cards like he was magic they were water flowing through his hands. They shook hands and he knew. They had both seen death. The old man smiled and took his seat. The man lost his first game in 10 years. The betting pool got bigger. He lost. Over and over and over he lost until the fortune he had acquired was gone. He had nothing left, the old man scowled at him. 'You have nothing valuable to offer me. Why did you waste my time?'

It was thrilling. 'I have one last thing to offer. I got a wish. If you put yours on the table I will put mine.' The old man smiled.

'What took you so long?'

The cards were laid on the table. And. He. Won. The man leaped up in joy and the old man leaped in rage. He lunged at the man wrapping his fingers around his throat, eyes bloodshot. The old man let out an animalistic cry of rage and went limp. Officially he had a heart attack. The man knows the truth. He saw the cherub behind him, he felt the warm tingle of another wish.

The man went on to live another 200 years before finally realizing there was no more to be won. Nobody could compete with him. He was old and ready to be with his family. When he died death did not smile and he did not see his husband. "

"Was that supposed to be a happy ending?"

"Whatever you want to focus on I guess."

"And let me guess, no moral?"

"Nope"

"Of course."

They didn't play any games, didn't discuss the new country. They sat in solemn silence the beating of their mortal hearts louder than the lava.

[thotinshield]

Danny’s Bagginshield Fic Recs (2021)

I haven’t done a fic rec in literal years, and I keep meaning to, but then I... don’t. This is a massive list - so I will put it under a read more to save your dashes.

Modern AUs

A Remover of Obstacles by MistakenMagic

"Dis often chided her older brother for being a misanthropist. She did it so often it had become a term of endearment. It was true that Thorin struggled with people; he struggled to form and maintain relationships. Dr. Grey had diagnosed him with this and Thorin hadn’t the heart to tell him this wasn’t a symptom of his PTSD, it was a symptom of his personality. He exercised a sense of apathy with almost everyone he met… But Bilbo was different. Thorin actually found himself wanting to know more about him."

(Note: This fic deals with a lot of mental health stuff, panic attacks, etc, so please please mind the tags.)

By Request by HildyJ

As a musician, Thorin's life can be summed up in tempos. For instance, the concerto he's perfoming on Friday is Allegro - quick and bright, followed by Andantino - slightly slow, and then back to Allegro again.

On the other hand, his relationship with his cute neighbour? Larghissimo - very, very slow.

Stepping Stones by misplacedkisses

It feels like it's fate Thorin's trying to resist, his destiny, his bloodline.

Fresh out of inpatient, Thorin's struck with the urge and maybe it's fate (or therapy) that has him stumbling into a late-night cafe instead. It may be the start of a new life.

Write Me Down Easy by lucyraebrown

Bilbo Baggins, a simple man with a wish for something more than his life teaching high school English, is obsessed with a famous author by the pen-name Oakenshield. Although he knows the future is dim for his chances of finding out about the man behind his favorite book, it's reassuring to know someone has the same thoughts about the world.

Fix-its 

I'll Die to Care for You by thehufflepuffhobbit

His gaze landed on Mahal's eyes once more. "You did your best, Thorin." It was tempting to look away; he wanted to deny that with everything he had. It certainly didn't feel as though falling into Gold Sickness and then dying was doing his best. Mahal smirked, as though he knew Thorin's desire to contradict him, and pinched his cheek before walking over to a table. "Aye, I didn't think you would believe me. I'm not lying, it certainly could have gone better. More according to my plan, but I know you really did try."

"Your plan?" He didn't know if he should ask, really. Knowing that his Maker had set a course for him, he didn't want to think about the ways he had done everything wrong. There were too many examples of mistakes in his long life, too many opportunities that he had missed that had probably been planned for him from the beginning.

Or:

Mahal feels like Thorin fucked up his legacy and gives him a do over.

Roses of Iron by Porphyrios

Two years after Bilbo returned from his adventures, he's made his peace with being back in the Shire. He still wonders what might have happened if things were different, but figures all that is behind him now. A mysterious visitor turns out to be someone he never thought he'd see again, and he's shocked by the news he hears.

Beside Myself by bliboboggins

"What are you doing? Just who do you think you are?" Startled, Bilbo turned around slowly. And there, in a familiar patchwork dressing gown, brandishing a fire poker wildly about, was... Bilbo.

i wouldn't have danced like that with any but you by Percyjacksonfan3

Thorin has survived the Battle of the Five Armies but his relationship with Bilbo is uncertain and precarious, especially in the newly reclaimed kingdom of Erebor. With Kíli set to marry Tauriel, and the Dwarves of Erebor still holding prejudice against outside races, Thorin must choose between his nephew's happiness or his own.

Though he believes sending Bilbo back to the Shire is for the good of everyone, he and the rest of Erebor are thrown into turmoil when 5 years later his nephews secretly plot to bring Bilbo back. Coming face-to-face with Bilbo again makes it impossible for Thorin to stay apart from him any longer- but is Bilbo still willing to be with Thorin once more after he broke both of their hearts?

A Matter of Payment by heartshapeddog

"And Thorin rose from the little table, keeping Bilbo’s fingers crushed gently in his own, and went down to his knee before him. Bilbo was struck with the likelihood that no creature greater than a farm-dog had lowered its head before a Hobbit since the birth of Eä until this very moment. He looked down, fascinated, at the crown of Thorin’s head, bare of royal circlet, and felt at once humbled and strong.

“I swear it,” Thorin said, and Bilbo thought of the vows from Elven history, of the type which followed the oathkeeper to the ends of Arda as a deep and binding magic. Then, he took Bilbo’s knuckles up to his lips. The rasp of his beard and his soft mouth were shocking in their immediacy and contrast. Bilbo could not help his racing heart."

Feet that Wander Have Gone by WednesdaysDaughter

“Run away with me.”

Bilbo turns to see who would say such a cowardly thing only to realize it was his own traitorous mouth which has run away with his heart: They’re already down the mountain and past Mirkwood by the time he realizes no one has objected.

“What a delightful solution my dear boy,” says Gandalf who looks to the east where the eagles are skimming the horizon.

Other AUs

between synapses and circuits by MistakenMagic

Different diagnostic results slowly trickled through and Thorin swiped them all to different corners of the screen depending on their relevance and evidence of abnormality. He paused when a particular chart appeared and smiled to himself.

“What?” Bilbo murmured, sounding genuinely worried.

“Your heterochromia,” Thorin explained, meeting Bilbo’s green and blue gaze. “The irregular algorithm that causes it has been running for almost half a century.”

“Most mechatronics offer to fix it for me,” Bilbo said, looking away, seeming suddenly self-conscious.

“Then they’re idiots.”

(Note: I just love MistakenMagic’s works. That’s all. This one is good and she writes angst so so well.)

past one hundred thousand miles (feeling very still) by childishinquiry

Commander Thorin Oakenshield is the leader of the first Mars mission, Project Golden Eagle, with twelve crewmen. Back on Earth, Specialist Bilbo Baggins is their communications specialist. Making history is easy; it's much harder to deal with falling in love with the person on the other end of the signal.

Hallowbit by batherik

As simple pawn shop owner in the human world, Bilbo isn’t all that thrilled to find himself lost in Thorin’s magical undead kingdom. Lured there by an old man dressed in grey, who turned out to be a wizard, Bilbo is charged with doing a job no one wants to do: fetch the King’s head from the corn maze. The King often loses his head when his temper boils over.

In the House of a Skinchanger by Bardic

Thorin and Company have finally reached a safe house after a few crazy weeks on the road. After three days of goblins, orcs, and a massive bear that's chased them into the home of one of Gandalf's acquaintances the Company is quite exhausted and quite tired of surprises. Unfortunately for them, or fortunately there is another staying there.

Master Baggins is not who the Company expected to find, especially when he claims to be one of the only outsiders Durin allowed a title and a rank to. Although that's the least surprising thing about him.

Thorin makes some discoveries and has some observations.

Basically an AU where Bilbo is a skinchanger and the Company meet him at Beorn's on accident.

It Runs In The Family by Imagined

At first, Bilbo is very glad to hear of the new alliance between Erebor and the Shire. He is even more excited when he learns that some of his family members are coming to the Lonely Mountain to discuss the details.

That is, until the dwarves (and Thorin, who is decidedly not and never shall be his) start getting along a little too well with one of his more adventurous cousins, and Bilbo starts doubting about his place.

[yandere-society]

Moonlight

Pairing: Taehyung x Female Reader

Synopsis: Taehyung was a man of many things: handsome, young, rich, the reigning lord of the Kim manor. He was a man adored, a man respected. But beneath the studly exterior, he held a dark, demonic secret that floated towards the surface once every full moon. It was this secret that would unknowingly entangle you in his claws until there was no way out.

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: Yandere themes, Possessive Tae, Werewolves, Kidnapping mention, Sexual assault, Murder, Death, also it’s unedited cause I hate myself

Headline: Beast Of The Night Strikes Again! 2 Dead, Several Injured

Admin: @roses-ruby​

_

The town suffers through another full moon of terror as the one described as the ‘dog beast’ struck again late last night. Lawmen are baffled at the carnage, describing the victims torn limbs and missing hearts as an act- “most definitely inhumane.” Townsfolk have stated that they heard the creature growl and moan for hours on end until it seemingly disappeared near the Kim manor. As for the owner of the manor, Kim Taehyung - an attractive bachelor who inherited his great grandfather’s land - refused to comment and dismissed the claims of such a being as “ludicrous and delusional.” Whatsoever it may be, the fact of the matter is that there is someone or something raging with bloodlust every time the moon shines its brightest and it might just be out for your heart next.

“It is truly incredible how some of the most credible news sources have begun to sound so half-witted these days… ‘attractive bachelor?’ Seems like you’re up for auction in the middle of this tragic incident…”

“It is a small town with unusually large tales…they’ll do anything to sell their trashy story…” He runs his fingers through his long black locks, a small huff of irritation leaving his lips.

“A story that will keep children up past midnight I’m sure…” The older gentleman places today’s paper back on the table and walks up to where the younger stood, matching his distant stare out the window. “The flowers were exceptionally beautiful in this year’s bloom. Such a shame they’ll be dead soon.”

It was a passive observation, one he didn’t have to respond to; however, it was his nature to always hold a firm stance on even the slightest of interactions. He hums in agreement, gazing out towards the colorfully green garden that his study overlooked. But rather than admiring the beauty of the large field, his eyes were instead hooked on a small figure bustling about the grounds in a long black dress.

“Master,” A calm voice interrupted him from his trance, “Shall I adjust your schedule in case you were to head into town today?”

His long-time butler, Seung, bowed quietly in his direction.

“No need.” He replies mindlessly.

“Now, now,” His uncle next him chuckled, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening, “It would do you good to show your handsome bust among the public. Your presence as Lord might provide some comfort…”

As if he should be the one comforting weeping mothers and terrified children.

He was about to decline the smiling face of this man who bore him nothing but animosity, but he was interrupted by his uncle’s careless gaze suddenly modifying into something additionally sinister.

“Or is it that you’re too tired for such a simple task? You look as if you have not slept in ages. Are you doing alright, perhaps?”

Other than the shiver that ran down Taehyung’s spine at his foxiness, he was unfazed by the weighty question. Usually, his feigned concern would make him chuckle, if he wasn’t so emotionally exhausted from last night’s events.

“I’m fine.” He turns to Seung without missing a beat, “Uncle is right. Get the carriage ready, I will be heading into town today.”

“Yes, Master.” Seung bows, but before he could quietly leave the room, Taehyung calls for him again. “And get my Uncle’s carriage ready for departure as well. I am sure at his age he would love nothing more than to be resting at home this very moment.”

There was a small confrontational silence between the senior and him after his loaded remark. But it vanished the very next second when his Uncle began to chuckle loudly, as if there was nothing but mirth between the two of them.

“You are right on the mark, young lad. As sharp as ever I see.” He spins around, walking back to the table he once sat at “I shall be out of your hair soon.”

Taehyung watches him as he picks up the paper he had been scrutinizing before he commences his departure from the chamber.

“Are you perhaps interested in the dog beast?”

“Why, not at all,” He responds calmly, turning to the younger with the same somber expression as before, “I just need some entertainment for the road. Surely, you don’t mind?”

He did not. For now, he desired his uncle’s departure the most. It was not as if he could see his own forthcoming demise stained in the ink of that paper.

Autumn’s cool breeze surrounds your body as you tend to the large grounds of the Kim manor, trimming off uneven stems from a massive rose bush.

“___,” A frantic voice suddenly calls your name, capturing your attention as your gaze falls down onto a petite figure dressed in a similar maid’s uniform running towards you, “___! Did you hear?”

“About?”

“Today’s paper!” Seulgi spoke out of breath, like it was the most obvious thing, “Those men…aren’t they the same lads who-”

“SSHHH!” You hiss, blocking her loudmouth with your palm. Her whines against your hand were similar to that of an adolescent as you whirled your head around the garden, making sure no one was near your vicinity. “I told you not to speak a word of that!”

Seulgi successfully tugs you off of her, “I know! But is it not bizarre? That beast attacked those men!”

“There is no beast!” You growled, “Everyone in town was aware that Wan and his men were good-for-nothing hooligans! They probably wandered into the forest late at night, drunk and belligerent, and attracted a bear!”

“Hmm, perhaps…” Seulgi pouts, “But what about the articles? All those farmers who lost their cattle the same exact way… with their hearts missin-”

“I’m sure those are nothing but carnivorous rodents.” You huff in irritation, picking up the sheers to return to your work. The girl besides you threw a tantrum using her feet, and you wonder when exactly it was that you befriended such a child. “Are you even done with your station or will I have to do that for you again after the Housekeeper is done scolding you?”

This manages to scare her off, and you watch her retreating figure in slight humor before turning back to the rosebush. As you snap another set of leaves, you manage to take a glance at the window of the lord’s study, apprehensively watching his back disappear further into his room.

All you’ve wanted from this manor and its lords was a chance to toil quietly – in peace. Your simple servant status does not offend you, rather it provides you security in relations with the world. You were not interested in meddling with anyone’s affair, especially with those who lived in powerful and dangerous realities. So, it does not matter.

What you saw last night, near the clearing behind the manor does not matter. It had nothing to do with you, and you were planning on keeping it that way.

_

Lord Kim was annoyed.

Really though, when was he not? As the carriage decelerates into the gates of his estate, his exhaustion only multiplies. Faking a straight face and an empty gaze took its toll on him, even if he had been playing theater his whole life. It was hard enough to keep up with this perfect charade as the lord of the manor, but it had just gotten worse with time…and with the incidents.

He was reluctant to head into town, leer over dismembered bodies and chat with the commissioner, but did so anyway thanks to his uncle’s instigation. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice - any sign of weakness would invite his extended family to sink their teeth and claws into him, wringing him dry within a matter of minutes. His father died too early and Taehyung did not bear a successor yet, so whoever would be the first to either exhaust, kill or seduce him would eventually take his place as lord. After being unfortunate enough to witness countless amounts of cruelty from them since age eight, he knew he had to keep his farce strong.

Common folk would think he was protecting his blessed birthright. But in a deep, hidden corner of his mind, the reality loomed that neither this life nor this manor was blessed in the slightest.

“We’re home, my lord.” His thoughts are interrupted as the carriage stops, the door opening to reveal a flawlessly still Seung waiting for him to disembark.

As he exited his carriage, his shoulders drooping and head spinning, his eyes managed to fall on you in the distance. You stood far away, underneath the stone canopy of the servant’s quarters, next to that bumbling friend of yours with your head bowed as the housekeeper shouted herself silly at the both you. It seems that you have once again found trouble thanks to the petite nitwit by your side.

Yet still, even with your gaze downcast, he could sense the poise in your stance. An aura of composure and self-confidence that has never left your being no matter where you stood, or who stood over you. At first, he just happened to relate to you and the notion of keeping together a tough act. But over time, he came to realize that you weren’t acting at all – that you, a mere servant, were as perfectly assured as you seemed.

It made him envious.

“Master?” Seung pulled him back to reality.

He turned away, scuffing his expensive shoes amongst the gravel to head into the direction of his manor. Yet still, after the small sight of you, he couldn’t help but smile to himself for the first time that night.

“Dinner is served.”

A tray was lifted to reveal a large pot of thick, saucy white soup. He had wanted something light ever since the previous night, and the chef had delivered quite nicely. Taehyung sits patiently, waiting to be served as the maidservants walk into the room with the housekeeper. His eyes immediately land on you out if habit, and he wonders if you were to tend to him tonight. But to his surprise, it’s your friend who comes up to the table to oblige him his dinner instead. She takes a ladle and dips it into the soup – just a minute, she forgot to pick up his soup bowl?

Realizing she forgot the bowl; she looks startled for a bit before she hovers a hand underneath the ladle and walks closer to his direction. He has to try really hard not to burst out into a fit of laughter as he witnesses you shake in fear at her antics. Seems like he was not the only one distracted because the very next second your friend trips over her own foot on the way to his bowl and loses her grip on the soup-filled ladle, which flies towards him.

And in an instant, his whole head was wet and runny with his dinner. It was quiet for the first minute – which appeared to have stretched out into hours for the servants – until many different voices began shouting at once.

“Y-young Master! T-Towel- I shall fetch a towel!”

“MY LORD!”

“My lord! I-I-I apologize I-!”

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. Your face was stiff in horror as you watched the creamy soup drip off his hair. Seung ran back into the room with a towel in his arm as the housekeeper bellowed at your friend.

Before Seung could wipe his hair, Taehyung held his wrist and took the towel into his own hands. Then he stood up, surprising the whole room, even the shrieking housekeeper, shut. He lightly wiped the edges of his bangs for a minute in silence, feeling the wet soup drool into his shirt before he turned towards your friend.

“Well, what a mess…” He stated absentmindedly, watching the girl shrink under his gaze until she became as small as a pebble. She seemed to be trying her utter best not to cry.

“Lord…” A soft, but confident voice interrupted the dead silence of the room. You stepped up next to your friend, your head down as you cleared your throat, “It…It is my fault actually…”

Your friend turns to you in shock. Everyone in the room was now glancing at you; the servants with petrified eyes and Taehyung with amused ones.

“Explain yourself.”

“Th-that…I spoke about the dog beast who was in today’s paper to miss Kang and…and I seem to have frightened her which is why she’s been a bit distracted…b-but it is my fault, so I deserve the punishment.”

“N-no!” You friend suddenly cries in a strained voice and you elbow her to keep shut. She opens and closes her mouth like a fish, before complying to your implication with her eyes squeezed shut tight. The servants all held their breath, waiting for the lord’s next move. They all seem to flinch when he sighs,

“…I see…” Taehyung holds in a chuckle, “You’re right miss ___, this indeed seems to be your fault…”

Seulgi quietly whines in her throat and you wish she could for once read your mind and jam her loud trap.

“…Well then,” Taehyung’s deep voice captures your full attention, “Meet me in my room an hour before midnight. I shall decide on your punishment by then.”

No one said anything further, but they all seemed to be thinking of the exact same thing. Even Seung appeared disturbed. But…it just couldn’t be… The lord has never even taken an interest in women much less bed with one. You, too astonished to remember your place, straightened your posture and stared at him straight in the eye for the very first time. There wasn’t any hint of jest or error, which left you further baffled at the Lord’s request.

No, perhaps it was just you who misunderstood.

“Y-yes Lord.” You manage to spit out.

At your approval the lord smiles, which startles you out of your insolence. You return to your humble position as the Lord begins to walk away from the room.

“Seung, prepare my bath.” Taehyung calls out in glee.

“…Yes, master…”

_

You sigh, standing in front of the thick wooden door of your Lord’s master chamber.

“Well, there goes the goal of keeping from trouble…” You whisper to yourself in defeat. And thanks to that gigantic fool Seulgi, you were late to your own punishment trial. She would not stop crying and apologizing, even though you told her it was now your problem, so she has nothing to be sorry about.

Still, the main dilemma for you in this moment was not her, but your current circumstances. Why were you called out to the Lord’s chamber an hour before midnight? The sensitive time frame would provide anyone the wrong impression, not just you. If he really were to ask you to…bed with him…what then?

You quickly shake your head no. It was not healthy for you to have such thoughts about your Lord. Since adolescence, you had been a reasonable girl who was guided by logic. There was no rationality in this idea and you’re sure Lord Kim had a good excuse for calling you out so late – an excuse that has nothing to do with...whatever you were just thinking. After pulling yourself together with a deep breath, you knock on the wood three times.

“Come in.” You immediately hear, which allows you to nervously turn the handle and push open the door.

There stood Lord Kim, by the end of the bed, in his sleepwear. His hair was a mess of slight, drooping curls, possibly the aftermath of his bath, and his stare was a lot more lax than normal. You gulped quietly under his gaze, stepping into the room and letting the door shut behind you.

“You’re late, miss ___.” His voice was deep, but soft. It felt as if he was trying to jester you.

“I-I apologize, my Lord. I was held up by the housekeeper…”

It was a lie and you did feel guilty, but it would also be immensely satisfying to witness that old witch being chided.

“My, my, it seems like she is always after you and that friend of yours,” You could hear what sounded like mischief in his tone, “Which reminds me, she came to speak to me.”

“The housekeeper?”

“No, your friend. She told me you lied for her.”

That was the last straw. You were going to kill that idiot.

“I…I…S…” What were you to say now? Should you apologize for your dishonesty?

“I think it’s commendable.” You were interrupted from your thoughts by your Lord’s words. When you meet his eyes, you see him smiling gently in your direction. “You tried to protect your friend. It takes a good heart for that.”

“Thank you, sire…” You weren’t sure how to adequately respond - if he really was complimenting you. Your uncertainty stemmed from your upbringing; rather than a trait to compensate, behaving and caring for your younger siblings was regarded as your duty. It was also why maid work came so easily to you. And Seulgi, with her childish nature yet endearing personality, reminded you of those you tended to back home, so you considered looking after her a mere responsibility.

“I do like that nature of yours.” He proceeds casually, making you blush. “But I still have to punish you for your dishonesty.”

You nod your head, eyes falling to the floor. Even without gaping at him, you were aware of how strong his gaze was. It was only natural to get disciplined as a servant, but for it to come from Lord Kim himself made you fearful.

“Miss ___, sleep with me.”

Your head whirls up to meet his stare, shock painting your face.

“W-”

“Please don’t misunderstand me.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair, “Although you’re quite beautiful, I only desire your lap.”

…

What?

“I-” Your Lord stutters, facing away from you and crossing arms in embarrassment, “I just…these days I have been having some trouble sleeping. Many peers have remarked on my dark circles and laxing attitude. This won’t do! As the Lord of the Kim manor, I have to appear fully rested and in the best condition at all times or else.”

He turns back to your direction,

“W…when I was a young lad…I would sleep on my mother’s lap. It was the most comforting of places to me and sleep was never a cause for concern back then. Which is why…I wanted to seek that same comfort once more…so that I may be able to rest heartedly and prepare myself to face the world of politics tomorrow. I just…I was wondering if I could borrow your lap for a few nights?”

It was quiet after his explanation. Your mind gradually processing all the information in his tale. He appeared to be immensely nervous, as if waiting for you to decline. You had to hide your amusement.

“I am ready for my punishment, my Lord.”

The young Lord smiles, which has your heart racing. Surely, he was a beautiful man.

“Thank you. Please sit on the bed, near my headboard.” He orders bashfully.

_

You swung another sheet over the clothing line.

Days had passed since your initial ‘punishment,’ and today would mark the first whole month of you lending your lap to your Lord. Your nightly time with the Lord had become an occurrence you cherished. There was so much you managed to learn about the man who rested on you – like how he scrunches his nose when he encounters a nightmare or how he moans only when he is in his deepest of slumbers. He was different than how you originally imagined; his cold exterior was nothing but a farce. In reality, he was so childlike and so innocent.

So different from other men.

Yes, that’s right, he was nothing like Wan. Remembering that scoundrel had you shivering in your legs from disgust. You usually didn’t have the most pleasant encounters with the men in town, but Wan had been a special case. Although you did not wish to think ill of the dead, there was nothing ever good about that man, and frankly you’re not very upset that he’s gone.

You remember the day much too clearly; it was a week before he would meet his demise. The housekeeper had sent you and Seulgi into town on a shopping errand – she wanted you to pick up meat and vegetables for dinner. It wouldn’t be the first time you went into town for a chore, but it would certainly be the most unpleasant.

As you and Seulgi stepped out of the farmer’s store carrying a load of groceries in a paper bag you held with both arms, you spotted Wan and his friends walking towards you from the opposite direction. They were cackling loudly, drunk in the middle of the day and out of their minds. You paid them no attention, ready to head back to the manor but your unwitty friend stared straight at them until Wan eventually made eye contact with her.

“Well, well, well,” He slurred in your direction, catching your gaze, “If it isn’t the whores of Kim manor!”

Because of his brash nature, everyone’s regard fell on the two of you. You tried to look unfazed by his disgusting behavior, taking Seulgi by the hand and leading her around the men. But Wan interjected your path as his friends laughed on.

“We need to get back. Leave us alone.” You stated calmly

“Why, we won’t keep you for long,” He grinned, and you recoiled from the alcohol in his breath, “Besides, they won’t miss you- them rich folk. Isn’t that right, fellas?”

His friends began to shout and woo, enclosing in on you almost completely, and you could feel Seulgi shaking behind you.

“We need…to get back.” You say once again, cursing at yourself when your voice cracks. Wan throws his head back and laughs as hard as he could while the townsfolk just observe the show. Anger begins to well up alongside the fear and you purse your lips, picking up your feet and tugging Seulgi along.

It didn’t matter if you had to bulldoze through him, you were going to get back to Kim manor no matter what. So you step close, ready to collide into him before he suddenly sidesteps. Thinking he was distracted; you weren’t prepared for his swift movement and you certainly weren’t prepared to feel a hard thwack on your backside. A breath of surprise leaves your throat and the feeling in your arms disappear, which lets the paper bag fall out of your grasp, spilling its contents along the street. You stare at the ground, paralyzed by shock as Seulgi meekly cries out your name.

“Wan, you mad lad!” Someone from his group yells, clasping their hand into his in jest while they all express their amusement at your humiliation. The group aggressively howls, making perverse remarks before eventually continuing down the road, fully disregarding your presence. They left, without any consequences. As if they didn’t just horribly disgrace you.

“___...” Seulgi steps up to your side, crying her eyes out in worry. If this was another time you would console her – scold her for being a crybaby – but at the moment you could think of nothing. You had been a maidservant for almost a decade now and even then, you had never been treated so awfully. What’s worse is that they all saw…they all saw and said nothing.

Not wanting to waste a minute further, you fall to your knees and start gathering the vegetables that fell about. Seulgi calls your name again but you focus on your task. You have to stay composed, you have to stay composed – you repeat it to yourself like mantra. But that sensation of emptiness returns, and you freeze. Before you knew it, you were trembling on the floor with tears streaming down your face and everyone still watched on.

“___.” Seulgi wrapped herself around you tightly. For a moment your fortitude was shattered as you cried in her arms on that dirty street.

Wan was most definitely scum, you conclude with a huff as you finish straightening the laundered bedsheet. But still, you halt, dying the way he did…it’s something you wouldn’t wish on anyone. Your mind wanders back to that paper, torn limbs and missing hearts. Could it possibly be related to what you saw that night on the previous full moon? With a frown, you stare up at the sky, watching the whiffs of white clouds swirl through the blue fabric.

“___!” You hear the familiar shouts of your name and turn to see Seulgi running towards you. “___, there you are!”

“What is it this time?” You sigh as she encloses in on you

“___, is it true that you are consummating with the Lord?”

Dropping the sheet out of your hands, you spin towards the loudmouthed idiot, “W-w-w-where did you hear that?”

“The other maidservants were whispering on it,” She replies with an innocent grin, “Is he as good as the rumors say?”

“A-a-a-as the w-what? What rumors- what- consummate- a-are you out of your mind?” You were blushing from head to toe.

Seulgi looks dejected at your response, “So it isn’t true?”

“Of course not!”

“Ohh,” She groans sullenly, “But I guess it would be impossible for a lord to take interest in maidservants like us.”

Your bashfulness vanishes in an instant. She was correct, there is absolutely no reason for you to find yourself special. Lord Kim had made it clear that he has no interest in you, he just requires a lap and is too proud to ask someone close. This was originally a punishment for you and nothing more – you shouldn’t become too attached.

“___?” Seulgi’s voice was low, “Are you alright? You seem down…”

“…I’m fine.” You mutter, composing yourself, “But more importantly…why are you here to ask me about baseless gossip? Are you done with your station? Remember you have to use the right tools- just scrubbing vigorously doesn’t work-”

“Oh my god- yes, yes, yes!” She responds by childishly covering her ears, “I have to use the coil sponge not the foam one, I get it!”

You begin to scold her as she laughs, prancing around the grass without a care. But soon the humor dies down and it was time to return to work. Before she leaves for her station, she makes a passive comment.

“Tonight’s another full moon. In the night of Samhain.” There was something dim about her tone as she gazes up towards the sky. You join her, wondering if she somehow had the same bad premonition as you did.

_

While you were chatting with your friend, Taehyung was having tea with a man he’d rather throw into a river.

“What brings you here?”

“My, do you sound cold.” His uncle chuckles, taking another sip of his tea, “Am I not allowed to visit my nephew out of fondness?”

“Well, after twenty-so years, consider me surprised.” Taehyung deadpans, which only further humors the elder.

“Perhaps I do have a motive.” He grins for a moment before all signs of amusement vanish from his expression. “I could not help but toil my mind over that paper from before. The townsfolk swore they heard the dog beast growl late into the night before fading behind Kim manor.”

“I thought we agreed the paper was nothing more than gossip fodder.”

“And perhaps that’s all it is.” His uncle’s smile was innocent but held such contempt. “However, as a gentleman who resides in the city, I find myself quite inclined by the mysteries of small towns such as this.”

“What nonsense,” Taehyung scoffs, “Are you saying you wish to investigate this supernatural rubbish the townsfolks gripe about?

“Indeed! The dog beast is nothing but rubbish!” The elder’s laughter was hearty, “But then, there is the question of who killed those men?”

The room was silent, drowning in the animosity the two men felt for one another. Neither one spoke – his Uncle because he had nothing more to say and Taehyung because he felt his throat clogging. He wanted to decline, desperate to splurge words of refusal, but then the fact that he had something to hide becomes too apparent.

“Surely, you won’t mind me staying? Just for one night?”

“Stay as you wish, uncle.”

You were already situated on his bed when your Lord swung the door open.

The sound made you jump, and you immediately rose to your feet to show respect. He began walking towards you in a fast, heavy pace with his feet striking the wood. His face had you unnerved – anger in his frown as well as what you could only describe as dismay in his eyes. Before you could open your mouth to react, you were taken into his arms in a sudden and swift motion.

It left your mind blank.

He squeezed himself onto you, his chest colliding with yours as his scent surrounded your senses. Your arms were hovering his back while your fingers curled into themselves, unsure of your position at the moment. Lord Kim hugged you tight, as if he was afraid.

“M-my Lo-”

“Tonight.” He interjected, muffling into neck as he laid his head on your shoulder, “Do not let me go tonight, whatever you do. Hold onto me as tight as you possibly can, do you hear me? Do not let me wander, I beg you.”

His tone broke your heart. He sounded so frightened – so desperate and you had no clue on how to help him. The Lord has always been the strength of this household. No one had ever witnessed him so distressed, not even at the previous Lord’s funeral. Hesitantly, you placed your fingers against his vertebrate and sat back on the mattress, guiding him gently down with you.

“I won’t let you go, my Lord.” You didn’t know what else to say.

He placed his head on your lap, arms still clinging onto you like a child. His mind seemed to be in the middle of a warzone against himself. The memory of a young man sitting in front of his father’s casket, immobile and silent as a rock, was still so vivid to you. You had only been at Kim Manor for a few months back then, and you remember being disturbed by his attitude – wondering if he had any feelings at all. But after learning about how often his extended family plotted against him, to the point of kidnapping him as an eight-year-old, you began to view that tearless boy with pity.

Watching him tremble in your lap has you reaching out to him. Your digits tread into his soft hair and you slowly move them about to calm his tremors. He seems to respond; his quivers coming to a slight halt at your touch.

You don’t know for how long you rubbed his head, listening to him breath.

You don’t know when you fell asleep.

_

His whole body was aching as he walked towards the grass, trying to ease the sharp pain in his head.

He had been taught that the best place to alter was out in an open, murky environment. Somewhere you could feel the air on your skin as the patches of hair slit through your pores like needles through fabric. Yet still, somewhere impenetrable through the naked eye. There was an area like so behind Kim manor – a clearing that was connected to a large acre of uninhabited woods. And among those acres laid several swamps and bogs, which formed a thick layer of fog around the grounds of the manor – most prominent on the night of the full moon.

It was the perfect place for him, who had been poisoned with this modification.

With his mind as cloudy as the fog, he thinks back to the first time he witnessed his father alter. He was far too young, a month away from ten, when he was brought out to this clearing and visually counseled on his dreadful future. More than anything he wanted to look away, he did not wish to see his beloved father become this monster, but Seung held his hand tight and told him to hold witness for his very own sake. And he witnessed – witnessed his father thrash about as if he wanted to claw his own brains out and he cried.

He cried along with his father. But there was never any other option for him than to tolerate the dread from his place as heir to Kim manor.

It was always painful, every moment his heart pumped blood into his body, he moaned in agony. While the night raged on, he noticed his panting grew deeper by the second – tone sinking to a gruff growl which rips through his chest. His eyes and sense of smell grew keener, large nails grotesquely rip through his skin and his teeth began to enlarge. The image of the moonlight basking on his skin was the only thing offering him refuge.

If he had a choice, he would have chosen to stay inside with the warm you, stare enchantedly at your resting face like the many instants he’s done before. But his changes weren’t just physical. In this state he was bigger, louder, hairier, teethier – more aggressive. His desire for blood was intense but ever since he met you, so was this raw lust. As a rational man with a sense of morals, this perverse craving ashamed him, yet the beast inside did not care for his customs. It wanted to possess you, every ounce of you, thoroughly. To mate with you in a way that wasn’t meant for humans. Being around you in this condition would break the mental leash he chains this deviant with.

Although every time he alters, he feels it loosening. There was something wrong with him – his father and grandfather were able to restrain the beast from rampaging throughout town. But he, on the other hand, had been consuming the town as his sole hunting grounds for some months now. Which is why the “dog beast,” once a mere legend mentioned every decade, was printed in previous months paper.  

It is as if the creature wishes to mock him and the slipping control.

Drenched in sweat and agony, he knew the transformation was almost complete when he suddenly heard a small noise. He immediately spun around and met the petrified eyes of his uncle.

Neither of the men spoke – both gaping at each other with pure, unfiltered fear. The chill of the night establishes its presence in the worst moment possible. Taehyung was afraid for reasons too many, none he could not lucidly list. He recalls what occurred the last time the beast was enraged by someone and he desperately wishes not to hurt anyone ever again in this form.  

Opposite from him stood his uncle, wondering just one thought out of an infinite. How does a normal man, one untouched by the knowledge of this being, react in this situation?

A normal man would run. A normal man would cower in fear. A normal man would beg for his life. But he, the rightful heir to the manor, declined to let this young bastard trample him in such a way. It wasn’t that his uncle was a man without fear. And it wasn’t that he held great courage either, but rather, the very oxygen that burned through him was fueled purely by his stubbornness. He has spent the majority of his life trying to crush first his brother and now his nephew, so when this chance has presented itself so deliciously, he refuses to let it slip through his fingers.

“Y…” His voice was hoarse, throat achingly dry, “What are you?”

Taehyung stands there quietly, unresponsive to the question. Although he was the larger one, he felt so scared and so small. No one had ever spoken to him in this form which is why he was unsure of what to do. He had been a fool, he thought if he could sleep in your arms and you held him tight, he would be able to stop himself from altering tonight.

But now he understood, there was nothing that could.

“You killed those men.” His uncle continues, all on his own. As if he’s suddenly reached enlightenment.

“You do not…understand…” Taehyung shakes his head like a child about to be punished. He didn’t mean to kill anyone. He’s never hurt someone in his whole life. That night, on the previous full moon, it all occurred without any of his own authority.

Taehyung was a despicable man. Wan had hurt you, and he saw it. But rather than step in and intervene – rather than protect you from that scum – he instead just stood by and watched it transpire. No matter how many times he thinks back to it, no matter how often he racks his brain for an answer, he still does not understand why he did nothing. Perhaps he was paralyzed from his own traumas and forced himself to retain his composure – however the beast did not care for his pathetic reasons. It taunted him the whole week leading up to the full moon. Hurt him with insults he knew he merited.

“You’re weak.” It growled, “Weak and puny. I shall protect her myself.”

And then, for the very first time, Taehyung took the life of another human being without any cognizance. What’s worse is that he enjoyed it. That thought alone petrifies him.

“No, I do not understand you. And I do not wish to.”

“Please…” Taehyung begged as he held out his deformed hand to plead with the elder. Did this man think Taehyung desired this life? Did he think he desired this hundred year old curse - originating from a place long before his time - that was forced upon him and on any man who dared to reign over Kim manor. Perhaps despicable, but Taehyung was still softhearted. The reason why he tried so hard to keep his title as Lord was so that no one else would further suffer this abomination, even if it concerned his bastard uncle. 

And it’s also the reason he made peace with dying alone, without a bride and without children. He was meant to stand alone. That is...until he met you.

“How dare you. How dare you grovel to me, you servant of the devil.” The disgust and venom in his uncle’s tone made him recoil.

“No-” It was only a matter of time before the beast consumed him whole and he was certain, like before, it would not spare any mercy. The adversity is something Taehyung direly yearns not to repeat.

“I shall bring the priest and the commissioner. I shall tell them what you did. You shall be brought to justice for what you did to those men. You shall suffer in hell when they burn you at the stake!”

“Please- uncle- please listen TO ME-” He clasped his claws against his mouth when his voice became utterly inhumane. The beast was crawling out of his throat and his sanity was slipping. No longer was he able to see what was in front of him and once again he began to fade, like he did all those times before.

“Run!”

Taehyung with the last of his conscious tried his hardest to warn the man and take a dash for the woods but it was far too late.

The last thing he heard was his uncle’s shrill scream, and then all silence for him.

_

You woke up to a thump.

Or at least you were certain that was what you heard as you sit up on the bed. Your vision was groggy, mind still half asleep as you look in the direction of the sound’s origin. For a minute it was soundless, and then there was another thump. You weren’t sure what it was, but you stood up nonetheless, slowly walking towards the door. Still unaware of your surroundings, you stop in front of the wood, distracted by your own dizziness.

In the tranquility of the room, you caught a noise so faint, you thought perhaps you were still in your nightmare from before. It was immensely faint, but you heard it. The rapid breathing behind the door. Unhurdled by emotions such as caution and reasoning for once, you swung the door open in confusion. And as soon as you did, your own awareness came back to you at full force.

A clothless man stood before you, covered from head to toe in blood and gore. Your breath was stuck in your throat, eyes widening into saucers once you saw the length of his fangs. It took you a full minute realize that it was Lord Kim.

“W…what…” You step back in horror. Perhaps you were still dreaming.

The fear had snuck up around your waist and grabbed you by the throat, leaving you without the ability to move. He gazed at you with eyes that were a bright yellow, yet darker than any man’s you have ever looked into. Your orbs travel down his body as you absorb in his abnormal height, his ripping muscles, his long fingernails and…and his hand.

There was a heart. In his hand, he gripped a fleshy and large organ and you knew it was a heart.

Missing hearts.

“Nooo…please.” You quiver, crying without him ever speaking a word. All signs of alarm were raised in your mind and you don’t even remember what it was for that you came here. Only Seulgi’s words about the dog beast reigned in your ear. The world was spinning as your Lord…as he began to walk towards you. Your life started to flash by your eyes, and you closed them shut tight, so you would no longer have to witness this terror.

“Shhh.” You heard a deep growl before you felt cold and abnormally large fingers on your face. A gasp escapes your throat as he caresses your cheek.

The next thing you knew, you were floating. Your eyes flew open and you saw yourself being carried by him. There was no moment for you to react, as you were subsequently placed upright onto the bed. No longer restrained by his arms, you shifted about in a frenzy.

“Ah…uh…”  

“You are mine.” He states as if it was a fact.

Then he comes over you – wrapping his enormous, dirtied limbs around you as you squeak. He lays his head in your lap and you feel the tears leave your eyes as he yet again resembles your Lord. What you had thought of as just a hallucination from the fog was actually reality. That night, on the previous full moon, you woke up and strolled the grounds to clear your head of Wan. It was then that you saw the most horrid of things – you saw a giant dog shrink into a small human who resembled the Lord.

And you had told yourself lies. Told yourself it wasn’t true and told yourself to forget. But all logic was failing you now as a creature from hell winds down on your very own body. You muffle your cries and fear – too afraid to awaken the beast.

Taehyung laid peacefully in your arms; his mind detached from every other thing that did not concern you. The heart he held in his hand had stopped beating a long time ago, but he could still feel it slipping through his fingers. He is not sure, even as a beast, as to why he takes the hearts of victims. Perhaps it has something to do with how it’s his heart that hurts more than anything else each time he alters.

Well, it did not matter now, he thinks as his perception starts to drift. Nothing mattered at the moment – not the heart, nor his uncle’s body, not even your reaction. For this moment, more than anything, he just wants to rest.

To sleep, in your lap, under this cold, beautiful moonlight.

________

A/N: Okay so I really hate this I apologize. I had intended for it to be longer but well :) October has officially been 2020′s busiest month for me...but I hope you enjoy this garbage lmk what you thought!

[spacecadetal]

fireworks

kakashi hatake/fem!reader

word count: 2774 warnings: descriptions of violence, descriptions of blood, descriptions of killing, alcohol use author notes: i wanted to write something a little different than i usually would i kinda got a little tired of my wips lol

the first time i saw him, i was eight years old with a shy curiosity about the world. long story short, his shoulder collided with my own. he wasn’t watching where he was going and neither was i, the hard jolt gave me such a fright that i yelled at him to watch where he was going. i had too much pride to admit i was at fault, lost in a daydream once again. he shared my reaction and my sentiment. saying i should watch myself too with great annoyance in his tone. i scoffed, he huffed, we went our separate ways.

i had always heard his name but never connected the dots until i was much older but still not much wiser. he was a prodigy, i was painfully just above average. as a bright eyed genin, i was out in the world and only starting to understand the true meaning of the path i chose at the naive age of six. his squad was babysitting my own on a mission. his mentor stands next to mine and introduces us and my face sours immediately. unlike him i don’t have a mask to hide it. he avoids me for the whole mission but his teammates are nice.

his red eye was making waves around the world, he was a myth and enemies across the land waited in anticipation for the day to come where they could finally see it in the flesh. great gain had come with great loss, i’m sure he wishes the second hand eye was back with its original owner. i remember the first time i saw him lift up his headband and expose it to the world. the blood red eye and it’s black swirls, chills shoot down my spine like pins and needles. engaging with an enemy was pure violence, animalistic and messy yet he made it seem so graceful. 

the pines and the dark forest disappear before my eyes; now he stands on a wooden stage with his foe, dancing under a spotlight. every dodge and weave is smooth and flawless. his strikes felt as natural and as quick as a snake striking at its prey. i watch his performance with a disregard for my own safety and when the last of our enemies hit the dirt, i wait for him to bow. instead he shakes the blood off his kunai and the famous eye is tucked away under his headband. i think i fell in love with him that afternoon.

the girl who died, her name was rin and that one time her team babysat mine, she braided my hair by a campfire and said i had a pretty name. she didn't deserve to die. they whisper about him when he walks by, terrible nasty things. but i smile at him, wave to him when i see him and hope it makes him feel less alone in the world. he sees it and he averts his gaze without reply or acknowledgement. rejection makes my chest tighten, if only slightly. naturally i assume he doesn’t like me, maybe he doesn’t like anyone. 

i'm in a village with my squad for a mission, it’s small but the green tea in the wooden cup and the smell of rabbit stew on the stovetop makes me feel at home. the excited teenage boy asks me about the things i've seen. the only thing he knows is chopping wood and shearing sheep. he asks me about a rumour he’s heard by a traveller about the boy that conjures lightning in his hand, he asks me if i've seen it before in the flesh. i smile and nod and confirm that i have. he asks me to describe it. i don't know how to at first.

first, you hear the static snapping and popping and it captures your attention instantly. then the pale blue light grows bigger and bigger in his hand, it takes on a life of its own and i won’t lie and say that it doesn’t make my heart beat out of my chest but he tames it like a wild beast, he has complete control. if you stand off to the side, you can watch the show. lightning surrounds him but he is never burnt. he’s like a god when he strikes, i've never seen something so terrifying but beautiful. he's beautiful. but i don’t tell the teenage boy that and i dont tell him that sometimes the loud crackle of his chidori haunts me when im alone. 

when i'm a chunnin, i feel much older than i am. it's not due to the title of my rank but because i keep plunging my kunai into grown men’s hearts and have to pretend it doesn’t faze me to see blood squirting from punctured arteries. i don't see him around the village much anymore. he lives in the darkness, in the shadows but sometimes he comes out into the light. he's grown so much older and taller and i think he looks handsome in his gear. toned arms and biceps and that tattoo on his left upper arm, the one that tells the world where his loyalties lie. walking past him, i prepare to feel the chill of his icy demeanor but i say his name, wave and smile. the only one of his eyes that sees the world widens and the veins of his arms bulge at my greeting, i can’t see his hands because they’re stuffed in his pockets. he always looks away but this time, for the smallest of seconds, he nods in my direction and then he is gone.

when the nine tailed beast attacks the village, i am kept away from the battle in a forest with the rest of the ninja around my age. he’s there, standing by his friend who talks and talks. i like his friend, he always greets me with enthusiasm. i try to ignore the sounds of my village being destroyed and the screams of the unfortunate dying people as i am powerless to do anything. my eyes move on their own in his direction only to find he has the same idea. for a moment, air leaves my lungs and i nod politely before i look away. his eyes meet mine one, two, three times. that night my home was buried under a mountain of rock and rubble and he lost the last person that knew the true extent of the damage this world had inflicted on him. 

the elderly lady at the stall with the hair clips told me i've grown into a beautiful young lady and i blush at her comment and insist it isn’t so. she tells me i must have a lot of boys' attention and i buy the deep blue hair clip with the faux sapphire gem. it stands out in my dark hair. it's been a long time since my house was crushed and a long time since he’s sat in the dango store with his friends but here’s there when i walk by. the compliment has me on cloud nine and i'm glad he’s not alone anymore. i smile at the group, say ‘ hey guys ’ and wave. for a millisecond my eye catches his as i'm walking by and my mind plays tricks on me. i think i see his cheeks tinge red.

kurenai came up to me one summer's morning and asked if i was attending the festival. i told her i was but likely alone. maybe i wasn’t such a pretty girl, no fish ever nibbled on the hook of the fishing pole i cast into the waters. her boyfriend looked bored as we spoke and her crimson eyes smile when she brings up the boy with the silver hair’s name, pretending she doesn’t notice my breath hitch for the slightest of moments. ‘ you should ask him, he’s not going with anyone either ’ she tells me and then she drags her boyfriend away. i sit alone on the cliffs for an hour thinking it through, my knees up to my chin as i wonder why she would suggest such a thing. iwashi is pissed that i'm twenty minutes late to meet up with them.

his group joins up with mine hours later and i greet him as i always do. he stands off to the side and plays with his hands and every time i catch his eye he looks as if he wants to say something to me. they say love feels like butterflies but when my eyes meets his, those butterflies turn into angry bees. i want to say something to him too, ask him where his friend got the idea that i should ask him to go with me but the bees within me sting and their venom prevents me from opening my mouth. i avert my gaze and pretend to listen to genma when he talks about his favourite order of ramen. 

we all part ways but we’re together again within the hour and i'm waiting nervously at the spot kurenai told me to come back to. my yukata is the colour of lapis and white periwinkles decorate the sleeves and i wonder if i look plain compared to the girls around me dressed in passionate pinks, gentle purples, and bold reds. he doesn’t see me at first but i see him. his yukata is dark grey with light thin stripes and it compliments his bright silver hair wonderfully. it’s the first time i've seen his hair down and his long strands are wild and stick out all over the place, i think i fall in love with him all over again. hes alone and i don’t dare to approach but he finally sees me. he waves, i nod. he's so handsome that i can’t stand to look at him so i don’t.

it’s dark and explosions of many colours light up the sky. i'm so distracted by the loud boom echoing off the hills and the blue, red, white and green lights on a black landscape that i don’t notice he's standing right beside me watching it too. knuckles lightly brush against my own, my chest tightens at the sensation. it’s distracting enough that i tear my eyes away from the sky show. they’re as wide as a possum when i meet his gaze. he doesn’t say anything, he just stares for a moment before he looks back at the fireworks. it was an accident and i forgive and forget but then his fingers awkwardly hook around my own, clinging for dear life. i cannot look, i cannot think nor speak. i hold my breath and blink rapidly while i cling onto his fingers just as tightly. when the fireworks are finished, we consider each other in silence for a minute. his hand leaves mine and we part ways without a word.

every time i see him, i see fireworks and feel the ghost of his fingers wrap around my own. he acknowledges me and we’re rarely left alone around each other; when we are we do not speak of it. we lean against a railing side by side and watch our friends fool around. courageously i say to him that the weather is nice today and he nods in agreement before his friend calls him over. when he leaves my side, his knuckles brush past mine once more. i jump in surprise and tell myself it was another forgivable accident but then he glances back at me as he walks away and i can’t be too sure. 

i am frozen still in a shrub waiting for the enemy to pass by. the sound of my heartbeat in my ears is so loud but suddenly it is replaced with the familiar crackle of electricity that haunted my dreams for the longest of times. when i turn around i see a man gasping for life, holding on tightly to the kunai i imagined would have been plunged into the nape of my neck if it wasn’t for the ball of lightning sizzling away in his chest. the man’s body drops to the ground and i finally see him standing there in the man’s place, his lower arm is soaked with blood from the fatal strike. he takes my hand and helps me onto my feet. that famous red eye is hiding behind a porcelain hound mask and he asks me if i'm okay. i assure him i am and thank him, he nods his head in reply and walks away. i don’t mind that he’s left my hand stained with our enemy’s blood. 

when i am given the rank of jonin i am months away from being twenty. i’m not allowed to drink just yet but my older friends buy bottles of sake to share in the park and i accept the invitation without giving it much thought. it’s sweet on my tongue and goes down smoothly, the aftertaste reminds me of potatoes for some strange reason i can’t put my finger on. i drink and i drink until half a bottle is gone and my cheeks are red and i laugh too loudly at asuma’s lame jokes. the stars are beautiful tonight but they just look like streaks of light in my blurry vision. i lay in the grass, my head feels light and my stomach slightly churns. out of nowhere he is in my line of sight, standing over me with a touch of concern on the features that aren’t hidden away. he asks me if i'm okay and i say i'm just fine and i think to myself that i'm glad to see him. 

when he takes me home, he lectures his friends that i'm too young to get drunk and they reply that i'll be old enough in a couple of months and it doesn’t make that much of a difference. he doesn’t mind my drunken babbling and how my head leans on his shoulder as we walk slowly through the dimly lit streets. his grip around my waist is tight and i try not to say something foolish like the way he fights is a form of art or that i want him to hold my hand again. he drops me off at the door and leaves once i am inside safely. i pass out that night thinking of the ways i want to be his.

i am twenty one when he leaves the anbu and i see him on the streets alone. his nose is in a book and he doesn’t notice as i walk by. i fight the urge to turn around and ask him how he’s going, i’ll be late to meet up with my old squad to train if i do. later when i walk home, i stare off into the distance and think about making dinner and sharpening my collection of kunai when i collide with something hard. i jump out of fright at the impact, ready to snap when two hands land on my shoulders to secure me in place. we’re not kids anymore and he smiles at me and apologises even when i'm at fault. i ask him how he’s been and he says he’s been just fine. he walks me home and we talk about missions and his new role as a squad leader. on my doorstep he says he’ll see me around and then he is gone and i am left greedily wanting more of his time.

one day when we are standing alone he tells me he is in love with me. it is is out of the blue and i brush it off with laugher, telling him he couldn’t possibly be; he takes my hand in his and insists it’s true. he tells me that he has been since the moment i collided with him in the street when he was ten years old. that when the world was unkind to him, i provided enough kindness to keep him going, all in a smile and a greeting. it is everything i have wanted to hear and more. the angry swarm of bees are back and i am stung over and over again. he can tell that i'm paralysed so his lips fall gently onto mine and it allows me to say the things i cannot utter out loud. my eyes are closed and i can see the very same fireworks from the night our fingers touched. when he breaks away from me he says we should get out of here and wordlessly i agree. we walk in the streets of the village and i am unsure of the destination he has in mind. his fingers are wrapped around mine.

[yourmcu]

Wish You Were Here (ii)

Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader, Peter Parker x Stark!reader (platonic)

Summary:

an Infinity War/Endgame AU where Tony Stark’s daughter (you) is one of half the population that vanishes in the snap, Tony finds out later on when he arrives back to Earth, devastated, then you come back like the others to help fight Thanos.

Word count: 3,115

A/n: (moved to the end of the fic!)

Warnings: angst, death, swearing, Morgan’s a cutie! and no seriously I miss him so much

read it on ao3!

Part 1

gif not mine! credits to the owner^^

Just like the others, you were brought back when the Avengers succeeded in retrieving all the infinity stones.

You're laying on the ground at the same place you were last time: Wakanda. Once you gain consciousness you struggle to get up, your legs wobbly.

“Hello?” You call out, but you're alone, can’t even contact anyone since your suit is out of power. You have no clear memory of what happened, just that you had an anxiety attack while Natasha held you, then you blacked out and - that’s it.

You felt a strong breeze and footsteps behind you.

“[Y/N] Stark,” a man’s voice says. “Come with me.”

The man is ancient looking, had a cape and his facial hair weirdly reminds you of Tony’s. “Who are you? And how long was I out?” You look at a sparking yellow portal far behind him, “did you do that?”

“Stick together and stick with Wong,” the man calls out before the portal closes. You have no idea who he was talking to since they already got in. “Doctor Stephen Strange. We need to find Pepper Potts and... get you suited.”

“I already am suited it’s just - no juice. What’s going on?”

“It’s been five years. It’s time, your father and the others need our help to defeat Thanos,” Doctor Strange opens up another portal to an unfamiliar cabin. Your eyes light up at the mention of Tony. “Quickly. We do not have much time.”

Five years? Unbelievable. That’s just insane. You like sleeping a lot but you couldn’t imagine being asleep for five long years.

“Are - are you sure we’re in the right pla - okay, sorry, don’t have much time, yeah,” you knock on the door when Doctor Strange gives you a stern and impatient look. It gets answered right away.

“[Y/N]? Oh my god,” Pepper says breathlessly. You could feel her sobbing while she hugs you tightly.

“Hey, you guys didn’t tell me you moved,” you frown. “Is all my stuff here? Mr. Strange wants me to get ready and this isn’t the only suit I have-”

“Doctor Strange.”

“It’s upstairs, last room on the left,” Pepper smiles as she wipes her tears. You nod and went up the stairs as the magic doctor told her everything.

All your stuff were in boxes and your spare iron suit was standing in a corner. You wiped away the dust off and checked if it was in good condition. It was ready to go.

You quickly charged the weapons and blasters on the suit, and you still needed to-

You hear a small gasp from behind the door.

Confused, you turn around to see a girl with an amazed smile on her face. “Y/N!”

You cautiously walk over to the small girl, “yeah, I’m Y/N, what’s your name?”

“Morgan,” she replies, then her eyes widen as she hides something behind her back. “Daddy said I can borrow your stuff as long as I put it back. They all look really cool.”

You still aren’t sure, but you start to put the pieces together in your mind: you were ‘gone’ for five years, this girl is living with Pepper, and if you guessed right, ‘daddy’ is Tony.

She’s your sister.

“It’s okay, and thanks,” she gives you a small hug which you return slightly, you feel a smile growing on your face since you find her really precious. “It’s nice to meet you, Morgan.

“Hey, so, there’s this weirdo man downstairs and he wants me and Pep - mom to do an errand for him,” you say to her once you remember you have to go. Morgan nods understandingly, “we can play and catch up when I get back, okay? That’s a promise.”

She runs back to her room and you get suited up, power at its maximum.

“Welcome back, Ms. Stark.”

“Glad to be. I missed you - actually, how Dad’s doing? Is he alright?”

“Mr. Stark had a concussion earlier, but as of now he is waking up again.”

“Oh,” you exhale and start worrying about him a bit. “Okay. That’s fine, I guess,”

Once you go back down a portal was already open and a nanny by the door (you assumed for Morgan). You fly right in before it closed up.

“Holy shit.”

There's armies coming out of many different portals, from people to aircrafts, to mutants. You all gather at the Avengers compound, or what used to be the compound.

“I forgot to mention,” you point out and Pepper turns to you, “That’s a pretty badass suit.”

You could feel Pepper roll her eyes from inside her suit. You follow her as she flies all the way to the front.

Your eyes dart everywhere to look for Tony. And there he is, getting up from the ground and flying back to the Avengers. He looks worn out, ragged, tired; you notice before his iron head covered him up. There’s so many people that you doubt he even saw you. God, you miss him so much.

Cap, Thor, Rhodey, Clint, Peter, Wanda, Bucky, Sam, Bruce - or Hulk, everyone was there, but where’s Natasha?

“Avengers!” Cap shouts, a hand extended as he catches Mjolnir without stumbling - whoa, what? - “assemble.”

That’s it. The battle begins.

It's your first time using your backup suit, you obviously didn’t have the time to test it out first. Good thing it works fine.

You're flying around, shooting enemies whenever they get in your way and helping anyone on your side who needed it.

What got you confused (not that you were complaining) was how the other Avengers were a bit too happy to see you than they normally should. You brushed it off though, they probably just love you so much like you love them.

“Aye, mind if you launch me? I need to be over there,” a raccoon holding a gun states and pointed to the direction. You recognize him immediately.

"Sure thing, bud,” you obliged, grabbing him, levitating off the ground and to thrust your iron arm forward like a cannon.

After a while the battle died down a bit and you saw Tony embracing Peter in a distance.

You smile sadly. Peter’s your best friend, but you really wish that it’s you who Tony was hugging.

Your jealousy fades when one of those giant flying Chitauri makes its way to their direction, ready to attack.

“Friday, activate the mega blaster,” you fly closer to the pair.

“Which one?” For fuck’s sake, Friday,

“The biggest one, please, now!” Once the blaster's out, you aim at the monster who's literally meters away from Tony and Peter and fire. When it crashes to the ground lifeless, you land beside them.

“Sorry, that was,” you pant, opening up your iron helmet. “It was literally going to eat you guys, so, uh, sorry for ruining the moment.”

Peter smiles, nodding and Tony looks at you as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.

He hadn’t seen you in so long that your sudden presence fucking took his breath away. You're here, alive and back. If you guys weren’t in such a situation he’d go on and tell you about all the things you missed.

“I’m probably in trouble, right? I mean.. look Dad, I’m in a battlefield,” you laugh nervously, shooting a creature from the corner of your eye. “In my defense, Doctor Strange was the one who came to me, I didn’t-”

You're cut off when Tony wraps his arms around you. Right now he didn’t care about your excuses as to why you were here. But if Tony from five years ago could see you now he’d definitely ground you for life and take away your lab privileges.

“You’re doing great.” his voice slightly muffled from the hug. You let out a squeak, not expecting that from him at all. Tony smiles and plants a kiss to your forehead. “I love you, kid.”

“I love you too, Dad.”

The battle carries on and you're being swarmed by more enemies. You got really beaten up as it went on - what really knocked you out was when Thanos’ spaceship rained fire.

Unable to get shelter, you try your best to dodge everything that came out of the ship. You could barely see anymore because of the chaos and the clouds of dust everywhere.

“Ms. Stark, you need to get somewhere safe! Your heart rate is also increasing dangerously fast.”

“Not - not helping, Fri-” you get cut off when one of the blue fires hit you on the head, sending you to the ground unconscious.

----

“[Y/N], come on buddy, you need to get up,” Peter. He found your body a while after he handed the gauntlet to Captain Marvel. The battle's still ongoing, but he’s focusing on keeping you away from it while he waits for you to wake up.

You quickly sit up and gasp for air, looking at your best friend. “Did we win? Did we - wait, Peter, look out!” You push him out of the way when a group of monsters make their way to both of you. They turn into dust before they could lunge forward, however.

“...what the..?”

He helps you up and the both of you run to where Rhodey and Tony are at. You nearly break down when you see the state he's in.

“Mr. Stark? Hey - Mr. Stark? It’s Peter... and look, Y/N’s here- she’s okay, sir-” While Peter tries to talk to him you kneel down beside him, placing a hand on his arm while you do your best not to cry.

Then he looks at you, mouthing it’s okay.

But you know it isn’t. On your part, anyway. It seems really selfish but you don’t know what you’d do without him. Tony has always been there for you, he always kept you going.

Pepper kneels beside you, gave you a reassuring look before looking at her husband. “Friday?”

“Life functions critical.” That makes you whimper, pulling yourself closer to Tony.

“Tony, look at me. We’re going to be okay. You can rest now.”

You nod, sniffling, resting your head on his shoulder lightly. “I love you. I’ll take good care of Morgan, dad. Don’t worry.”

When the light of his arc reactor goes out, that’s when both you and Pepper break down, comforting each other around Tony’s lifeless body.

----

Dresses really weren’t your thing. So were skirts and shorts. But you wore a short, black dress for Tony’s funeral. You didn’t care if you weren’t comfortable, it was for him. You’d do anything for him.

You barely got any sleep since the battle, you couldn’t now that he was gone. It didn’t feel right. You had no idea how to cope, how you could move on from this.

What made things worse is when Steve and Thor told you about what happened to Natasha, that’s why you didn’t see her in the battle. She gave her own life just to get everybody else back.

You must’ve zoned out again because Rhodey and Pepper are now setting something up in the living room. An Iron Man helmet.

“S’that going to be new decoration?” You force out a chuckle, sniffling afterwards, sitting down on the sofa behind them.

Iron Man’s eyes light up when Rhodey presses a button. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. Tony sitting on a chair, a hologram.

He turns it off before hologram Tony could say a word. “That’s,” he sighs, “that’s for later.”

“I can’t do this,” you get up, running a hand through your hair. “I can’t. I’ll - I’ll break down, I know I will. Can I take a walk? Please?”

“Take your time.” Steve gives you a comforting smile.

Pepper nods. “Some air would do you good. Be back when it’s time, okay?”

You take longer calming yourself down in the woods near the cabin. You cried, you mumbled to yourself, paced back and forth,

Cause a picture is all that I have, To remind me that you're never coming back  If I picture it now it just makes me sad And right now I just wish you were here.

You stop when you heard leaves crunching. Peter just arrived, along with his aunt.

“Hey,” Peter silently greets, pulling you into a hug. It's obvious he isn’t getting any sleep either. “Are you okay?”

“Of course not,” you murmur, pulling away. “I should probably head back inside.”

“I’ll see you in a bit.”

You slowly walk to the porch, stopping when you hear Tony’s voice inside. You decide to just wait outside the door, you definitely don’t want to see his face, not right now, it'd be too painful.

“If we pull this thing off, and get everyone back,” Tony pauses. “Tell [Y/N] I left something in her room, yeah?”

Then he does the secret rhythm to a clap only the both of you memorized and knew.

You assume he’s done, since you don’t hear his voice anymore after that. Everyone goes out of the house and you hold Morgan’s hand as all of you walk to the lake for one last goodbye.

After that you talked to everybody who came for a while. Bruce, Steve, Clint and Thor tried to get you to look at the bright side, which you appreciated, you met the rest of the guardians who came, Doctor Strange who gave you a sympathetic look and apologized for your loss, and the guy you remembered Tony told you about, the one who helped him when his suit powered down and got stranded years ago. You made a mental note to ask him to hang out with you and Peter sometime.

“Hey... I’m heading to bed now,” you inform Pepper, Happy and Rhodey (both men were staying at the cabin for a few days) who're in the living room staring at the fireplace.

Before you go to your own room you check up on Morgan, who’s fast asleep. She's wearing her little Iron Man glove, pressed to her chest. She doesn’t deserve this.

Your room is still unpacked and they just sort of removed your bed from the compound and moved it here. You sit on the bed, already thinking of ways to move on that you know wouldn’t work anyway.

You remember your father claimed he had something for you here, so taking a deep breath, you clap the secret rhythm,

“Dad... you’ve gotta be kidding me,” you whine, covering your face with both palms.

Another hologram.

“Hey legacy,” Tony chuckles, looking at you. You shake your head at the ridiculous nickname, also avoiding his eyes, which you’re sure would make you cry if you did look. “I... uh, this is just a little video. For you. Sure you won’t see this but... I like to pretend I could still talk to you. I miss you, a lot.”

You fiddle with your hands, still not looking at him but you listen to him talk.

“But we’ll see. We’ll figure something out. I hope to see you soon, [Y/N]. I love you.”

He has both hands in his pockets as he looked at you with a warm smile, before disappearing.

But he reappears a second after.

“We’re doing it tomorrow. The... uh, time travel thing.”

The stress in his voice make you look up at him, but this time he isn’t looking at you. It seems like he was pacing while he recorded it.

“I just finished doing one of these for, well, in case I somehow die while we attempt to do it. If you think about it, it’s highly likely. Going back in time, yada yada, possibilities are endless,” he sighs. “But I figured I owe my firstborn a final message if that happens, right?”

“Honestly I feel,” he makes motions with his hands. “Bit anxious... right now. We were the only ones helping each other out when one of us felt this way but... seeing as you’re not here, I just have to deal with it.”

“[Y/N], look at me,” Tony crouches down to be in level with you, like he knew you were actually here watching this, like he was actually there, the one talking to you. But it’s how he programmed it. “You wanna know what my best decision in life was?”

“Yeah?”

“Taking you in,” he smiles. “When we fight you always bring up that I had the choice not to, and you were right. But guess what? I have no regrets.”

You smile, blinking back tears.

“You mean the world to me, I just feel like I don’t say it enough,” Tony cocks his head slightly, still looking at you. “We both have no idea what the afterlife’s like but that won’t matter, I’ll always look after you girls.”

“Speaking of which, your sister reminded me so much of you when she was first born, god, I still wish you were around for that. I know you’ll love her, she’s just brilliant. Take care of her for me, yeah?”

“Maybe there’s a way to get you back,” Tony sighs at your words, already knowing that it’s not going to work out. “I - I just need some time. I can bring you back, Dad-”

He places a hand on your shoulder. You couldn’t feel it, but you did feel a light breeze. “The deed’s already done, honey. Don’t worry about me. Come on, don’t cry,” he kneels in front of you as you let yourself go, crying hard into your palms.

Don't say everything's meant to be, Cause you know it's not what I believe  Can't help but think that it should've been me In the end, I just wish you were here.

You open your eyes when you hear a beep, even Tony turns around. The recording had ten seconds left. “The recording’s about to end, [Y/N],”

“I love you tons,” you whisper, looking up at him.

Tony smiles, caressing your cheek. “I love you 3,000.”

Yeah, they say you're in a better place, Either way I still wish you were here ‘Cause they say you're in a better place  In the end, I just wish you were here.

----

so here’s part 2. I miss him y’all, it’s missing-Tony-so-much hours for me

just like the first part, I got the title from this amazing song by Neck Deep which you can listen to here.

[taglist: @creation-magician​ (which I would like to personally thank for wanting to be tagged)]

[votederpycausemufins]

This one’s short but it exists at the very least. Just had a busy few days and I’m exhausted but also wanted to write. So now we have this

scattered au by @hermitcraftheadcanons and pinging @helleborusangel as always because I can :3

“Alright! That’s going to complete contraption number one! Whack a Melon!” Zedaph said after writing the name on a sign. The sheep hybrid had set up a bit of a base in a clearing of the jungle he had spawned in. When he couldn’t contact anyone, his immediate thought was he could probably rig something up with redstone to send messages.

With that idea in mind, Zed dug down to get the redstone he needed. He also got some diamonds followed by obsidian so he could get into the nether for quartz. As he was finishing that up, he ran out of melons in his inventory, so he had to farm more. With that, he started thinking about a way to make a farm, and so when he finally got some quartz, instead of working on something for communication, he just made the melon contraption.

“Now… what was I doing again?” Zedaph asked himself, taking some of the melons that came out from the contraption courtesy of the parrot he had led in there. “Ah right! Communications! Oh but I’m all out of quartz! Guess I’ll have to go back to the nether.”

He started to go back to his nether portal, but then noticed his pickaxe’s durability was low. He could use his diamond one, but with everything going on, he had left it in a chest down where he was mining. So Zed trotted back down to his mining area and started looking through the chests. But no matter where he looked, he couldn’t find it.

Reluctantly, he just made himself another iron pickaxe, making his way back up the surface and into the nether. He would get more diamonds later. He’d have plenty of time once his contraption was done.

~~~~~

Tango stared at the two pickaxes he held, one in each hand. He knows he only crafted one. He’s absolutely sure of that. He had gathered enough diamonds to make it and some armor, but he hadn’t bothered to make a second pickaxe. So where did he get it?

Tango put both of them in a chest in his small base. The entire thing was made out of stone even though he was surrounded by trees. Or at least, he had been. He had noticed it a bit after the sun suddenly appeared in the sky when he was finishing up for the night before resting. In his shock and joy at something working right, he had suddenly set some nearby wood on fire.

Thinking back, Tango couldn’t think of it happening much before, though he had spawned near a lava lake in the jungle, so his flames and fire from the lava could have gotten mixed up. Still, it was definitely worse now, but he at least had a good way to cook food whenever a stray animal came by.

He was also trying to gather two sheep or cows for breeding as he was growing wheat for bread in replacement of meat. It wasn’t the best source of food, but it was like the whole jungle had been emptied of its melons. A few oak trees were here and there for him to get apples from, but that wasn’t guaranteed.

Tango had also tried going outside the jungle for better resources, but after getting hurt, he wasn’t healing and couldn’t get far with the jungle itself letting a good number of mobs spawn. So now his only chance was to hope a zombie dropped a carrot or potato, or somehow find at least one melon seed.

~~~~~

Zedaph came back through his portal, munching on more melons. They weren’t the best food, but at least he had plenty. Since he wasn’t sure what to do for food, he had just taken any melon he saw, filling his inventory with the fruit. Maybe he could go looking for something else, like chickens or sheep or something to get for food.

Pulling his tools away, Zed started exploring more of the surrounding jungle. For the most part, there were just leaves, wood and vines, but sometimes he could spot a parrot. “Hello? Any chickens out there? I’ve got some seeds and I’ve already got a parrot. Hmm, he doesn’t have a name yet though. Maybe he’s an Andy. Oh yeah! I’ve also got wheat for any cows or sheep. I’ve just-”

Zed reached into his pockets to switch the seeds out for wheat, only to find he had just a single piece left. It was pretty odd, because he knew he had at least six when he started looking. Or was it less than that? Anyway, it was at the very least more than two when he set off. Six or three, because he had thought about making bread, right?

As Zed thought more, he didn’t really notice the fact that he was eating the last piece of wheat he had, not until it was fully gone and his hand was left empty. “What? Why, I think I’ve got a wheat stealer around here! Something really likes wheat, but it’s probably some sort of animal, so maybe I just need to find it and lead it back to my base. Yeah, that should help!”

~~~~~

Tango’s back in his mines when he finds a cave he hasn’t explored yet. Normally, he would just be cautious and explore, or even block it up with everything that was going on. But instead, it was all lit up. For a moment, he’s trying to think if he had just forgotten about the place, but then he also thought about his mysterious second pickaxe. This isn’t just his mine, at least, not anymore. Someone else was close enough that they claimed this place as well.

Immediately Tango was rushing back up to his base. Signs usually weren’t flammable enough for him to worry about, so crafting those could be helpful, and he definitely had wood to spare. He crafted up a few signs and then memorized his base’s coordinates before going back down. He wrote down that he had been there and the exact coordinates of his base.

Tango had no clue when the other hermit would return to mining, or if they were even working in that area anymore. As a precaution, he put more signs up with the same messages, but he still couldn’t help but worry they wouldn’t see the signs. Though right now, that was really his only hope if he didn’t want to be stuck in the jungle for who knows how long.

.

.

Etho was worried he wasn’t respawning anymore when all he saw was darkness. He didn’t know what was up or down or left or right. For all he knew, there was nothing. And then a comm smacked into his face.

It wasn’t his comm, he could still feel it in his pocket. He turned it on long enough to see it belonged to Bdubs. But the owner was nowhere in sight. Etho started to look around for him, but all around was just inky darkness. And then it was pain.

He had reached the part of the void that you couldn’t live in, that tore you apart. No matter how strong you were, the void could kill you, and it was killing Etho.

If it weren’t for the lack of messages of Bdubs dying, Etho would think he were stuck here. But why was his comm here if he wasn’t? As his vision was going dark, Etho had the answer. The void could kill anything, but apparently it wasn’t killing Bdubs. Who knew how far down he was at this point.

On his last hearts, Etho threw the comm down as fast as he could, hoping just maybe that extra speed would help it get to its owner. It was probably already at terminal velocity, but maybe it would work.

And then Etho died again, the void stealing the last of his health: and when he next woke up, he was in a desert, all alone. It was still early in the day at that point, but already the light sand was reflecting the heat back at him. He couldn’t even see any dead bushes for sticks, just cactus. Also lots of sand, the biome large enough that there was only desert around him as far as he could see.

Pulling out his comm, Etho was still grateful for the coordinates they gave. He was pretty far from spawn, but the desert, while hot, was mostly smooth terrain. He could go straight towards spawn with little trouble and hopefully get out of the desert before long. So, with little else to do, he startled walking.

Eventually Etho finally saw some sort of life other than cactus. Well, previous life, as it was some dead bushes which he broke for sticks. Still, it was better than nothing. But that begged the question of why there weren’t any to begin with. That likely would only happen if someone broke them.

Then Etho realized something. He died and suddenly appeared at Ren’s side. Killed and he was in the void finding Bdub’s comm. torn apart by the void, and now he was in a desert someone obviously had been. He wasn’t showing up in completely random places, he was showing up near the other hermits.

Etho stopped walking and immediately started digging at the sand with his hands. He was upset that the sticks were going to be lost when someone else probably needed them, but right now dying was actually more important. He used the sand to build up high below his feet, getting into the air, and then he jumped down, the amount of damage killing him.

As he had been falling, he made mental notes. Ren at a ravine, Bdubs in the void, someone in the desert, and now-

Etho opened his eyes and was met with Impulse’s face. He tried to breath in from shock from nearly being nose to nose with him, but instead of air, his lungs were filled with water. Etho knew he was already running out of time, so he quickly grabbed Impulse’s shoulders and shook him.

Impulse seemed to wake up a little, opening his eyes. It made Etho panic for a second as his normally brown eyes were red, and the ninja was reminded of Ren, but he wasn’t attacked. Instead, Impulse touched him, as if to make sure he was real.

As Etho’s lungs burned more, Impulse died first to drowning, which normally he wouldn’t like, but that meant neither of them were cursed. He started punching at a block, putting all his strength into it. Impulse hesitated for a moment, then joined Etho in his task.

Etho kept punching at the block until he finally died, but he did what he needed to. The cracks were large enough and Impulse still had enough time that even after Etho had died, Impulse was able to finish breaking the block. It didn’t open up to an exit, but Impulse stared at the sliver of air at the top of the space. Etho wasn’t back, but that didn’t matter. As Impulse died again, he started at the next block. That missing block might still be filled with water, but it was also hope.

[kiranatrix]

So I was reading through the Deathnote rules and it was really interesting.

One rule that stuck with me was something like:

'if you spell a name wrong accidentally 4 times that human is safe from the death note'

'however, if you spell it wrong on purpose 4 times you will die'

Considering the notebook can tell the difference between accidentally spelling a name wrong and purposely doing so, how much can the death note really do? If it can basically read a person's mind how much can it tempt and take advantage of them? Its purpose is to take lives so it would make sense to maximize its own use when in possession of a human... I'm not saying it's alive in any way, but it would need some way of functioning in human hands. That kind of rule seems more geared towards humans anyhow. It could kill shinigami if they purposely wrote a name wrong but it seems pretty unlikely they would do so, even taking Gelous (is that how you spell it?) into account. (Shinigami can literally see the humans names after all.) Its borderline hilarious if you consider time periods before education was standard, an illiterate human gets a death note, every time they try to kill someone it's a gamble and they only have 4 tries, except they can barely count so its even more stressful.

This could also be fuel for the whole "light was influenced by the death note to be more evil" argument. Light is still to blame of course, but it is possible the death note made it worse. If I remember correctly light said themselves that the death note tempts people into using it at least once, even if he meant it differently, it's still pretty interesting.

Basically, we need to analyze the death note more as a Fandom, Light and L get quite a bit, but the note itself and its actual nature and capabilities tends to get glossed over.

'Write name person dies' is as much as I usually see, but Ohba clearly put a lot of thought into these rules.

The Deathnote has been in the human world before so a lot could have happened to make these rules necessary. (Even if most humans are too weak to use it much.)

Hi anon! The properties of the Death Note are fascinating to me too!! I’ve given this some thought here and there:

How does the Death Note know the name is spelled correctly? Can it read minds?

Can you make more Death Notes from one?

How does the Death Note change over history and do names refresh with new owners? (inspired me to write a fic)

Can you use normal paper recycled with a bit of Death Note paper to write a name?

Some of my opinions about your questions are covered in those links. Regarding whether the Death Note compels people to use it somehow, I talk about that here (tldr; I don’t think it does).

I agree that the Death Note (or the magic therein) must be able to interact with human and shinigami brains in the following ways:

- know when a human/shinigami is thinking about the correct image of a potential victim’s face

- know that this image qualifies as ‘enough face’ for the death to take effect

- immediately know the Death Note user’s name/who has ownership (some rules impact the user)

- ability to erase all memories of the Death Note when losing ownership

- ability to restore those memories if a previously-owned Death Note is returned

- can confer the ability to see the shinigami who is attached to the Death Note

- understands definitively what all individuals in the world would and would not do (!!!!) according to their personalities, circumstances, and location

That last one always throws me since it’s stated that only suicide is considered a universal death any human might do (other than a default heart attack). Other deaths are possible but somehow the Death Note can determine which ones are for a particular person. So, it is omniscient in that way. However, all these interactions are about sensing information, granting the ability to sense what was already there, and memory erasure/restoration. There’s no evidence of any impact on a human’s own will, other than inherent temptation of the great power it offers. Winning the lottery is correlated with bankruptcy but it doesn’t CAUSE it (the opposite in fact). A huge windfall of money is itself the temptation to overspend and go bankrupt. Same way I see the ‘corrupting’ influence of the Death Note.

It could kill shinigami if they purposely wrote a name wrong but it seems pretty unlikely they would do so, even taking Gelous (is that how you spell it?) into account. (Shinigami can literally see the humans names after all.)

I assume that all rules also apply to shinigami (unless they are moot like about shinigami eyes) but since they can see names directly, it’s very unlikely they’d misspell the name. The DO have to look at the person’s face though, and that’s why they have those portals to view earth.

Its borderline hilarious if you consider time periods before education was standard, an illiterate human gets a death note, every time they try to kill someone it's a gamble and they only have 4 tries, except they can barely count so its even more stressful.

Pfft. I think if an illiterate human got it they wouldn’t be able to read the rules (and understand what it was), or write any names. I guess notebooks didn’t come down to earth in time periods before writing was in use, unless there was another mode in those days (like speaking the name and thinking of the face?). Maybe shinigami didn’t play with humans until they spotted the opportunity (Ah look, they can write now!)

[the-evil-authoress]

GX Month Day 4: “Swing of Memories”

Ah, yes, those sweet, precious memories shared with siblings...and a few you’d rather forget. Explore the bond between Asuka Tenjoin/Alexis Rhodes and Fubuki Tenjoin/Atticus Rhodes today! A sweet sibling hug? A heated argument? Show us!

Yes, I summarized and skipped over parts of the actual duel. This thing would have been so much longer if I hadn’t. Cheese and crackers this monster. O_O

This is not how Alexis expected this night to go. She almost regrets her idea for all of them to crash together when they are now standing on a magic platform above lava that will destabilize with every turn that passes. Syrus already looks ready to pass out, clinging to the back of Jaden’s jacket for dear life.

“Isn’t this counterproductive for you?!” Alexis yells at the shadowy creep. The way the darkness clings to him makes it impossible to distinguish any features, beyond the fact he wears black and that creepy mask. Even his voice sounds distorted. “If we die, you can’t duel us for the keys!”

A dark laugh like shadows on the walls. “Do you know why the Keys cannot simply be taken?” the man asks instead of answering.

“Because the Keys form a bond with whomever holds them,” Bastion snaps. Of course they already asked the important questions when Chancellor Sheppard told them about this crazy shadow war. “Therefore that bond must be broken through ritual combat.”

“Mmm, well you’re half right.” The man tilts his head, sounding smug under the layers of shadows that mask his real voice. “There’s more than one way to break a bond. A Key holder could give their Key to another- a simple, painless transfer. But I don’t expect you lot to do that. You’re far too good.” For a moment his voice is viscous, deadly, and sends a shiver down Alexis’ spine. The next he returns to almost mockingly light-hearted teasing. “However, if a Key holder dies, there’s nothing for the Key to bond to, now is there? A Key without an owner is free for the taking.”

Great, just great! So much for ‘can only be won in a duel’. If this wackjob figured out a loophole, then how many of the other Shadow Riders know about it?

Bastion inhales sharply, eyes darting back to the dark platform under their feet as Christina snarls a curse and Syrus and Chumley wail.

“Of fucking course!”

“I don’t wanna die~!”

“Don’t you worry about that.” That shadows-on-the-wall laugh again. “I’ll win this match long before you can fall. I want the pleasure of taking you all out myself.”

“Certainly confident,” Bastion grumbles, but there’s genuine fear in his eyes.

“Not gonna happen!” Jaden yells with all of his usual bravado; Alexis shouldn’t be surprised.

The duel starts to everyone’s dismay but it’s not like they actually have a way off this volcano. Alexis still doesn’t know how they got here beyond falling through the magical darkness that overtook Jaden’s dorm room. The first round isn’t anything special, the most excitement comes from Chumley’s leg falling through the platform as he tries to convince himself it’s still stable. Syrus and Chumley both scream as they all yank him back up and stare in horror at the brand new hole in the only thing between them and certain death.

“-Red-Eyes Black Dragon!”

What?

Alexis’ attention snaps back to the duel as the familiar monster takes the field in a blaze of glory and proceeds to blast Jaden back several feet. Syrus goes tumbling with him, and Christina shrieks as they come dangerously close to the edge, but Jaden skids to stop with a foot to spare, one hand braced against the platform and the other fisted in Syrus’ jacket.

Barely able to breathe, Alexis turns back to Nightshroud and Red-Eyes Black Dragon. “Why do you have that card? What did you do to my brother?!”

“Your brother?” Bastion yelps but Alexis can’t focus on anything but the man in front of her.

Nightshroud pauses, head tilting. “Who? Sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about. This card has always been mine.”

“Liar!” Alexis screams, voice raw, chest heavy. “That card is a tournament exclusive!” Atticus gushed over it for weeks, showed it off at school, more excited about the card than winning the tournament. This is the first sign she’s seen of her brother in two years! This man has to know something!

“You dare call me a liar?” A dark bolt darts out at Nightshroud’s command and sends Alexis careening back. Her foot slips off the edge.

“ALEXIS!”

Jaden yanks her back by the arm with a grip hard enough to bruise, and Alexis startles at the absolute terror in his eyes. “Hey, not cool!” He swings back around to face Nightshroud, the bravado back in full force, but this time Alexis knows what it hides. “You’re dueling me! Leave them out of this!”

Nightshroud only snorts, a derisive sound. “Then duel me, since you want to save them so badly.”

Alexis is still close enough to see the cards as Jaden draws Polymerization and fusion summons Rampart Blaster to deal Nightshroud damage even from defense position. The shadows shiver as Nightshroud suffers the pain of his own shadow game, momentarily revealing brown hair.

“Feel like talking now, buddy?” Jaden taunts with a grin.

Nightshroud’s legs shake before he stands tall once again. “I already told you! This card has always been mine! I don’t know anything about the girl’s brother!” For a moment, the shadows obscuring his voice part and it sounds almost familiar.

Rampart Blaster’s defense proves futile as Nightshroud hits Jaden directly with the spell Inferno Fire Blast. The flames that engulf Jaden are far too real for any hologram, and Jaden sinks to his knees and nearly through the platform as it gives way beneath him. Christina and Syrus scramble to drag him back up as Bastion checks him over for serious injury.

“‘M fine.” Jaden tries to brush them off and stand on his own but immediately winces and sways.

“Fine my ass!” Christina hisses.

“I’m inclined to agree!” Bastion pushes up Jaden’s sleeve to reveal an angry red splotch. “You’re covered in blisters if not more severe burns!”

“We can worry about that later!” Jaden pries his hand free with another wince as Nightshroud uses his next monster to force Rampart Blaster into attack mode.

“Wait. No.” A cold spot appears in Alexis’ chest as she takes a step back. She recognizes more than one card Nightshroud has played. “It’s not just Red-Eyes... I think he has Atticus’ whole deck.”

“What?” Christina spins from where she stands to act as Jaden’s support.

“But how is that possible?” Chumley stammers.

“I don’t know!” Alexis snaps, shaking. She has this horrible, horrible feeling. No matter what Nightshroud claims, he must have done something to her brother and taken his deck. She never once let herself consider the possibility, because it meant giving up, it meant letting her grief win, but what if... “I-”

Syrus shrieks as the platform gives way underneath him, stumbling forward as Chumley catches and hauls him back to safety. Their safe places to stand are dwindling quickly. Jaden finishes his combo by fusion summoning Thunder Giant. The two monsters’ clash ends in a draw as both are destroyed, setting up Burstinatrix for a direct attack.

“Let’s see how you like it!”

Nightshroud barely flinches against the assault of flame as the shadows around him flicker and swell as if fending off the attack. Pouting, Jaden moves onto his next play then passes the turn to Nightshroud. Mirage Dragon takes the field and Alexis startles as Nightshroud refers to the dragon with feminine pronouns. That’s how Atticus always referred to that card. Most duelists default to masculine pronouns unless the card art is obviously feminine, but Atticus was different.

-“She just gives me, ‘cranky old lady’ vibes, ya know?”- Atticus said when Alexis asked. She hadn’t known, not all, what Atticus meant.

Atticus’ deck was one thing, but this particular quirk... It couldn’t be.

Jaden goes down again as Mirage Dragon takes out Burstinatrix; Christina drags him back to his feet and away as a new hole opens up in the platform. His next turn sees Elemental Hero Tempest take the field and obliterate Mirage Dragon. This time, Nightshroud flinches as the shadows scatter off his form; and even with that mask on his face, Alexis knows what she sees.

“ATTICUS?!”

“Hold on whut?” Jaden jerks, gaping at her.

Alexis starts forward and stumbles as her foot falls through another hole.

“And who the hell is that supposed to be?” Nightshroud growls, and it’s Atticus’ voice now that the shadowy echo no longer obscures it.

“You!” Pulling herself upright, Alexis watches the floor for holes as she continues forward. Her friends call after her but she ignores them. “I know that’s you, Atticus! You really think a dumb mask would make me not recognize my own brother?!”

“My name is Nightshroud-”

“Why are you doing this? Why are you a Shadow Rider? What happened to you, Atticus?!”

“Lexi!!”

She manages to duck this time before the darkness strikes her, elbows banging hard against the platform. The breath shudders out of her and she realizes she’s crying.

“I don’t know you, little girl.”

It hurts. It hurts so much. She found him but like this and he doesn’t even know who she is. A hand on her shoulder alerts her to one of her friends, unsurprised to find Christina kneeling next to her. “It’s him...” Alexis whispers brokenly as Christina pulls her up.

“I know.”

“Why is he...” she hiccups, unable to finish the sentence. Christina squeezes her finger as she leads Alexis safely back to their friends.

Atticus summons Red-Eyes back to the field with Red-Eyes Chick’s ability then trades it in for a card Alexis has never seen before - Red-Eyes Darkness Dragon. Darkness. Nightshroud. That thing has her brother and she needs to figure out how to get him back from its clutches. Jaden ends the turn with Negate Attack, surviving to the next round. He hesitates as he draws his next card, then plays Wroughtweiler in defense and switches Tempest to defense.

“Jay?” Christina sends him a look.

“I honestly don’t have any other plays right now,” Jaden says, voice low as he glances back at her. “Besides, if that’s Lexi’s brother... Doesn’t the loser of this duel die?”

Alexis breathes in sharply. Christina hisses through her teeth.

“But what if winning gets rid of whatever is controlling him,” Bastions says. “Assuming he’s been possessed by some sort of dark power.”

“Yeah, maybe, but-”

“Jaden.” Alexis forces the words out as he turns to look at her, those eyes so full of compassion and concern. “If you lose, we all die. We can worry about the rest of it later.”

Jaden flinches. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m not!” Alexis loses the battle against her emotions as a fresh wave of tears overtakes her. “But what other choice do we have?”

Jaden stares at her a moment longer before turning back to face his opponent as Atticus attacks Wroughtweiler with Spear Dragon. He activates Wroughtweiler’s effect and goes down with a scream as his Life Points drop because Spear Dragon deals damage even if the monster it battles is in defense. Still, Jaden gets to add Sparkman and Polymerization back to his hand and gets back to his feet with a little help. Not that it does much good. The force of Tempest’s destruction sends him reeling back into Bastion, and Bastion yelps as the ground threatens to cave under their combined weight. Between the four of them, they manage to keep their friends on stable ground, but Jaden looks like he’s barely conscious at this point. With 600 Life Points left and their safety net looking like swiss cheese, Alexis glances at the lava below and turns back to her brother.

“Enough! Enough, Atticus! This duel is over!” she declares with all the fire she can muster. “You want a Spirit Key so badly, then you can have mine!” Ignoring the startled outburst from her friends, she pulls the object from its place around her neck and holds it out. “You said it works if it’s given freely, right? Let my friends go, and you can have it!”

“Alexis...” Jaden rasps, held upright by Christina’s arm. Alexis never looks away from her brother.

Atticus scoffs. “While I’m flattered that you’d give me your Key willingly, I’m afraid just one Key won’t do. I want them all.” His voice darkens, distorts into something unrecognizable again as the shadows rise up and cling to him. “Wait your turn, little girl. I’ll duel you next.”

“Atticus!” Alexis pleads, except this time she knows she’s not talking to her brother anymore - if she ever was - but this thing that’s taken over him.

“Make your move, Key keeper. If you can.”

Pulling his arm off Christina’s shoulders, Jaden glares his opponent down. “Oh, I can. And I’m winning this duel!”

“But you can barely sta-AAAAAA!” Syrus screams as he falls entirely through the platform. Alexis dives, catching his hand as Bastion grabs the other. Together they haul him back up while Jaden watches, pale as a sheet.

“Whatever you’re about to do, do it fast!” Chumley clasps his hand together, legs shaking so hard Alexis is surprised he still stands.

“Right!” With Christina’s hand on his shoulder, Jaden draws his card.

The combo he gets off next is a spectacular comeback. Atticus hits his knees with a scream as darkness rolls off his form in waves, and Alexis runs for him without a second thought. She doesn’t get far before the dark platform vanishes completely from beneath her feet. She has a single terrifying moment to think, This is how we die, before a bright golden light engulfs her.

When she opens her eyes again, she pushes herself off the cold, rocky ground of the mountainside while Syrus and Chumley cry over not being dead.

"What was that light? It looked like it came from your deck," Bastion murmurs, and something glows faintly as Christina shuffles through her cards with a frown, Jaden slumped against her.

Alexis spares them only a glance as she continues straight for her brother, collapsed face down on the ground feet in front of her. “Atticus!” She drops to her knees and rolls him to face her.

His eyes flutter briefly open. “Who...?” he mumbles weakly before his head lulls again, and Alexis fears the worst as she searches for his pulse. It flutters under her fingers, slow but strong, and she finally releases the breath she’d be holding. It comes out a sob.

“Is he...?” Bastion ventures closer, not daring to finish the inquiry.

“He’s alive...” Alexis breathes, cradling her brother close as another voice breaches the mountain air.

“Heeeey! What’s going on over here?!”

Alexis looks up as Zane and Chazz come running. “Zane. Zane!” she calls, heedless to how broken her voice is and doesn’t miss the way Zane immediately speeds up. “It’s him! It’s Atticus!” She holds her brother closer as Zane freezes in his tracks, face flooding with shock. “I found him...”

“What-” Zane croaks as he kneels next to them slowly, and reaches out like he expects Atticus to disappear under his fingers. The emotions that play out over his face when his hand lands on Atticus’ shoulder are too complicated to name. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.”

They sit in silence like that for another moment, just soaking in that Atticus is back. Then Zane shifts to slide his arms under Atticus’ limp form. “Here.” Nodding, Alexis moves aside to let Zane lift Atticus into his arms. Some distance away, her friends hoist an unconscious Jaden onto Chumley’s back.

“If he looks this bad after winning, I don’t wanna know what losing looks like,” Chazz gripes.

“That?” Syrus points hesitantly at Atticus.

“What?”

Zane sends Alexis a sharp look. “He was a Shadow Rider,” Alexis whispers, and glances away as Zane’s expression breaks again. “He didn’t recognize me. That’s all I know.”

“Okay,” Zane says at length and they begin the long trek down the mountain.

Alexis still has so many questions...and fears. She once thought finding her brother would make everything okay again, but now... Now she’s scared this is only the beginning rather than the end she sought. What if he wakes up and still doesn’t recognize her? Can she handle that? Can she handle learning what turned him into a Shadow Rider? Her hand fists itself into Zane’s coat tail. If he notices, he doesn’t comment.

[fakesurprise]

A First Adorcism

The worst part about no one having seen the ghost was that I had no idea what I was getting into. Marcel had vouched for me to the family as his student - which technically I was, seeing as I’d aided him in helping four ghosts in the past two years. I had no ranking on Hauntr, but Hauntr was mostly Yelp for exorcists and adorcists were the opposite of exorcists. Marcel was on it, but often had to deal with being review-bombed, hateful comments and threats on his life. It would likely be even worse for me, which I wasn’t looking forward to.

Being an exorcist wasn’t the most high-paying job, and some of them could make poltergeists look kind. I touch the phone in my pocket, knowing Marcel is only ten minutes away and let go as I walk toward the house. It’s raining, which feels oddly natural but does mean the fall chill in the air can hide a ghost better than normal. Not that I’m worried, but I’m almost not-not worried.

The ghost had died in his sleep from a heart attack, which didn’t normally make ghosts except that Edith Danby had begun packing up things to move less than a week after the vacation. Her son had offered to let her stay with him for a month or two and she was putting things away beforehand as a way of trying to put the past in order. Which was all fine and good until every moving box and suitcase was destroyed, the destruction harming nothing within the containers.

She’d run into the garage, called her son. He called the local priest who realized a ghost who could do that was more than a simple exorcism could fix and he called someone who called someone and reached Marcel. The Quercus Foundation doesn’t advertise at all save by word of mouth, but most of the time it’s enough for us.

I’d thought ‘for us’ without hesitating. I decide to take that as a good omen as I turn off my Toyota and walk up the driveway. The house is a small two-storey affair. Peeling paint, slightly unkempt lawn: a home that had aged along with the owners, just far enough out of town for no one to comment, not so far that people would worry and check in. No lights are on, the doors closed up tight as I walk up to the front door.

The key that Comor Danby gave me works, the door opening without issue.

As first steps go, this is good. I pocket the key and walk inside, looking about slowly.

The house smells slightly cold and musty but looks fine. Dated furniture and wallpaper, an older-style kitchen kept clean and tidy. No shattered windows, no plates hurling through the air. Nothing dangerous, but there was still the feeling that I wasn’t alone.

“Charles Danby?” I say, keeping my hands visible and loose at my sides.

The ghost walks down the stairs, each foot touching a stair. He is translucent, but not overly so. Slight stubble on his cheeks, wearing the pajamas he had been wearing when he died. He is frowning, and there is a cold glint of anger in his eyes that his family never mentioned.

The dead are never the person they were in life, and the biggest danger for the living is to forget that.

“Who are you and what are you doing in my home?”

The temperature drops about me. Nothing is flung through the air, no force shoves me into me, but his anger twists into the world. Lost. Afraid. Alone.

“My name is Miella Sinclair,” I say quietly, so he has to make the effort to listen in. “I’m here to help you.”

“Help? I’m fine. If this is some attempt by Edith to get me to join that jazzercise class again, I’ll have you know that it’s just people trying to con exercise out of those who don’t need it.”

“No, it’s not. Jazzercise is for the living. You’ve been dead for over two weeks, Mr. Danby.”

He stops. The air doesn’t get colder, which I take as a good sign. “I beg your pardon?” “You died in your sleep. Most people who do that don’t become ghosts, but there are exceptions. It’s common for you to not realize you are a ghost, but I am six feet tall and you are eye level with me.”

He starts, lowering down to the ground. Stares down at his feet, then up at me. “Where is Edith?” “She is going to spend a few days with Comor. She needed space away from memories, but then you destroyed all the moving boxes and that changed things.”

“I didn’t - I thought we’d had a fight. That she found out….” he trails off.

I wait.

“The second of June, 1972. I was at a convention for work. I almost cheated on her. I never told her, I always meant to. It came closer than I would have liked, being talked into a co-workers room and she was my boss so I thought it was work until it wasn’t. I didn’t lose my job, but it was close. Comor was two years old, and I almost threw my life away after three glasses of beer. Edith always said she loved me, but she never knew.”

“You want to tell her?” His eyes flash. A flicker of blue-white energy and the air takes on a discordant hum.

“Mr. Danby. Charles. I said I was here to help you. An exorcist wouldn’t say that.”

The hum dissipates into a buzzing. “Then what are you?” “Exorcists banish. Adorcists like myself help you let go and pass on. No one knows what happens to ghosts. No one knows what happens after we die. But some of us have learned another way to help the living and the dead.” The ghost doesn’t move, the hum of menace fading into a soft whisper. “I can tell your wife and son what you told me. But you have to understand that Edith isn’t going to come back while you are here. She might not see you, but she’ll sense you and feel like a stranger in her own home.”

“I’d never want that. She meant the world to me.” “She did, yes. And your family loved you enough to contact someone like me to help you.”

“How?” the ghost asks.

“You spoke in the past tense. That is part of it. You won’t stop caring for her. But you are an echo of Charles Danby, a reflection of who you were. You can do things you never could in life, and you could hurt those you care for when trying to help them.”

“I’d never hurt Edith like that!”

“You ruined over two suitcases. What if she packed more? What if you’d thought she was leaving you?”

He stops moving. The air ceases to be quiet so cool about me.

“I don’t want to hurt my family.”

“They know that. I know that.” I held out my right hand. “You just need to relax and take my hand. Meditate. Jazzercise, in its own way?”

That wins a startled laugh from the ghost. “No dancing. I was never a good dancer.” “No dancing, unless you want to.”

The ghost floats over, more translucent than before.

I reach out, trying to visualize the part where the ghost has touched a psychic scar in the world, as if my words can gently relax the wound.

“Relax and let go. Relax with the knowledge that you are loved. You slept then, so you can sleep now. Breathe in the world, breathe out with it. The moment is everything. The moment is nothing. Relax and be at peace.”

The ghost fades from my sight, and I feel the moment Charles Danby departs entirely, the sensation of a soap bubble popping against my skin.

I wait a minute. I text Marcel that I’m at 85% surety. Put my phone away.

“I’m not going to tell Edith Danby. She doesn’t deserve that pain.”

I wait another minute. Nothing happens, and nothing continues to happen.

“Okay. Good. Be at peace, Charles Danby.”

I relax my senses and walk through the house from top to bottom, but no trace of the ghost remains. I let out a breath, and another one, and head back to the front door. The door opens. I close it behind me. Wait ten minute. Enter and leave again.

Then call Marcel as I walk back to my car, dropping the house keys near the front door . “I think it’s good. I’d like you to check it out to be certain?” He chuckles softly. “I’ll be there in five.”

Marcel drives a range rover, which he parks further down the road. He walks past me without a glance, snags the keys and goes inside. I wait a minute. Two. Five. He comes out at just after the eight minute mark, locking the door and walks over to my car.

I accept the keys.

“Drink?” he offers.

“At least two. You know a place?”

He nods and I follow his vehicle to a slightly upscale bar. It still has pool tables but at least no televisions. We order high balls and sit in a booth with a good view of the front door out of habit.

Marcel is easily old enough to be my father, his face lined with age though his white beard hides most of it. He has a sip of his drink. "How was it?” “Good. He got angry once thinking I was an exorcist, but I talked him down, learned his secret.”

“Took longer than I’d thought you would.”

“After he was gone, I waited and then said I wasn’t going to tell his secret. He didn’t manifest.”

Marcel frowns slightly. “That was very risky, Miella.”

“I know. But I wanted to be sure I’d helped him be at peace.”

He lets out a sigh. “This will go on the official report, but in all honesty I did the same. Don’t know of an adorcist who doesn’t do that their first time out. That will be on the report too. Do you plan to tell the family the secret?” I nod. We don’t have to, but it’s generally considered good form to do so. “I’ll return the keys and meet you back at the office?”

He nods, and we clink glasses before finishing the drinks and ordering a light supper and water.

I had expected to feel tense or relieved, but all I feel is eager. “What next?”

` “You’ll go over what you did and could have done better a few times, and we’ll do another assignment together. Two more on your own with my near, another on your own with me a city away. And if all goes well, you’ll be able to do some assignments on your own just fine after that.”

We clink glasses and the world seems almost normal.

[fanmoose12]

Partners

Characters: Petra Ral, Levi, Hanji Zoe x Levi Genre: Action / Mystery / Romance Rating: T

Detective!au

Summary: when Petra was promoted to a detective and partnered up with legendary Levi Ackerman, she felt like the happiest person in the world.

But, as she soon found out, detective Ackerman she used to admire so much was actually a far cry from the ideal policeman Petra thought he was. He was rude, harsh and easily annoyed. And, in addition, he still hadn’t moved on from the death of his previous partner - detective Hange Zoe.

Chapter 5/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Сhapter 3

Chapter 4

It took two sets of the alarm to wake Petra up the next morning. Still sleepy, she yawned and slowly sat up. Rubbing her eyes, she looked out of the window. The weather was awful - the sky was grey, heavy clouds were hiding the sun and making everything look gloomy. It was raining too, the sound of raindrops, hitting the window, was defining in the otherwise silent apartment.

Petra groaned - she hated the rain. Sure, occasional summer drizzle was enjoyable, but weather like this? The cold and harsh autumn rain? The mighty wind that threatened to blow the umbrella out of her hands and then throw her onto the ground as well? She hated it more than anything.

But, whether she liked it or not, Petra had to go to work. So with a heavy sigh, she got up from the bed, shivering as her bare feet touched the cold floor. Draping a robe over her shoulders, she was going to head to the bathroom. A sound, announcing a new message on her phone, stopped her. She reached for the phone, quickly unlocking it. It was seven in the morning. Who could be messaging her so early?

Remember the cafe we visited yesterday? I'm waiting for you there. Don't take too long.

So it was from Levi! But didn't he request a day-off? And what was the meaning of his text? Was it his awkward manner of asking her out on a breakfast? Was it his way of apologizing for the failed interrogation?

Whatever it was, Petra wasn't courageous enough to call and ask him about it. She'd get ready quickly and meet him there. Certainly, things would be cleared out then.

After taking a quick shower and putting on a dark blue dress and a striped black jacket, Petra got in a taxi and soon arrived to the cafe.

And as she got out from the car, the small red umbrella as her only protection from the thick rain, Petra felt dread settle in her stomach. There was shivers running down her spine, and they had nothing to do with the droplets of cold water hitting her face.

The cafe. It was surrounded by police cars.

Fearing the worst, she made her way through the crowd of police officers, ignoring the trembling in her knees. Her hand was clutching the umbrella almost painfully. Her heart was beating so loudly, she could barely hear what the others were talking about. Only when she walked up to the entrance and saw Levi, sitting on a curb and comforting the owner of the cafe, that sweet old lady with a kind smile, only then Petra allowed herself to breathe out in relief.

"What happened?" she demanded from Levi, looking around in alarm.

"Another murder," Levi answered curtly. "The body is inside, I've been waiting for you to show up, so we can get a look at it together."

Petra nodded, ready to start the investigation. Before he got to his feet, though, Levi turned around, whispering something to the old woman. His voice was too soft for her to hear, and Petra turned around, giving them at least some semblance of privacy.

"Let's go," he said as he stood next to her.

"Detective," the woman called, before Levi and Petra disappeared inside. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

For a second, hurt flashed in Levi's eyes. He reached out and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry for yours too, Dorothy."

The woman, Dorothy, looked so sad, so weary and tired. Petra's heart clenched painfully, as she was reminded of her own mother, who had died years ago.

"We'll find the killer," Petra promised her heartily. Levi turned his gaze on her, but Petra didn't let it steer her. She stared straight at Dorothy. "We'll find him and bring him to justice."

The old woman smiled weakly, but genuinely. "Thank you, dear," she whispered softly. "It means a lot."

Petra smiled back, but before she could give Dorothy a reply, she was roughly dragged away by Levi.

"Never give promises you're not sure you can keep," he said sternly.

"But I—"

"You're right, though," Levi continued, cutting her off. "We'll catch that bastard. I'll do whatever it takes to ensure that."

Without sparring her another glance, Levi pushed the door to the cafe open, walking inside.

***

As soon as they entered, a short red-headed woman approached them.

"Detective Ackerman!" she exclaimed, clearly surprised. "Why are you here? Isn't today your day-off? Today is the anniversary of—"

"I know what day it is," Levi gritted through his teeth. "But we've got a dead body in the cafe. So, maybe, you would be so kind as to walk us through the case, Nifa?"

"Ah, of course, I'm sorry,” Nifa pursed her lips, looking up at Levi with caution. But then she sighed, taking out two pairs of sterile gloves and handing them to Petra and Levi. She straightened out and started leading them to the scene of crime.

"The woman, waitress, had her throat slashed, just like the previous victin. According to the owner of the cafe, the waitress had a night shift and was supposed to be working till seven am. At a little past six, the owner came to help with preparing for a morning rush and that's when she had found the body. She called the police and we arrived at half past six. Judging by the rigor mortis, the victim was killed approximately three or four hours ago. There," she gestured at one of the booths, where a woman sat, her head lying on the table.

The first thing Petra noticed about the victim was the yellow jacket that was draped over her shoulders. She wasn’t surprised by its flamboyant, cheerful color, or the fact that it looked like it was put over the victim after her death, no, it was the state of the jacket. The color definitely was bright and vivid before, but now it was covered with dust and soot. The hem and sleeves looked torn and ragged. It seemed as though... the jacket was burned.

Next to her, Levi took a sharp intake of breath.

"We don't know for sure yet!" Nifa blurted out, seeing the expression on Levi's face. "We'll need to search for DNA or—"

"No, it's Hange's," he murmured. His hand was slightly trembling, as he reached out to gently stroke the dirty clothe. His eyes were filled with affection and his lips curled into almost a smile, as gazed at it. “Only that idiot could wear such an ugly jacket.”

Petra and Nifa exchanged a worried gaze.

"That bastard," Levi growled a second later, all signs of that softness gone. He squeezed the hand on his side so much, his knuckles turned white. "He's playing with me again. Fucking asshole,” he spat, his eyes burning with rage. “Well, he can play as much he wants, I'll catch him anyway. And then I'll make him pay." Levi paused, lowering his head and taking a deep breath. Then he looked up, fixing Nifa with sharp gaze. "What else did you manage to find?"

"Not much," she answered honestly. "We couldn't find any fingerprints or other signs of the killer. The victim obviously didn't put up a fight, there is nothing under her fingernails and the only visible injury is the cut on her throat."

"Could she be dragged like the previous victim?" Petra asked.

"Possibly," Nifa nodded. "We'll determine it for sure at the lab. The killer obviously tried to keep this scene of crime as clean as the previous one, but we found traces of blood on victim's blouse and skirt."

"Is there any blood on the jacket?" Levi questioned.

"There is blood," Nifa confirmed. "But it's not fresh. We’ll need to run tests at the lab. To find out, whether the blood belongs to the victim, or...” she paused, staring at Levi apologetically.

“Or if it is Hange’s,” he finished for her. “Well, whatever you find, it’s probable that the jacket was put on the victim after her death."

Petra nodded, satisfied with herself. She came to the same conclusion.

"What about security cameras? Did they manage to catch something?"

"There are no security cameras inside the cafe, but we are still looking for them in surrounding areas."

"Alright," Levi concluded. "We'll take it from here. Let's go and ask around," he told Petra. "Maybe, we'll find a witness."

"Wait a second," Petra stopped Levi with a hand on his sleeve. Her eyes were still focused on that jacket.

It looked like....

Petra quickly put on sterile gloves and carefully tugged at one side of the jacket, revealing the inner layer. Just as she thought, there was something in the inside pocket.

A note.

Grinning victoriously, she took it out. The smile disappeared from her face as soon as she read the contents. Her heart missed a beat as soon as she read the contents.

Levi snatched the note out of her hands before Petra could begin to tremble.

"What is this shit?" he muttered, looking at the note. "You'd better stop looking for me, detective. Or the next souvenir I'll bring you will belong to your new partner," Levi cursed as he finished reading the note aloud. He crumbled the piece of paper in his fist, clenching his jaw.

Petra watched him with a detached face. The edges of her vision began to swim, as the words, written in that note, kept replaying in her head, ringing louder than the noise around her. Her limbs grew limp and her heart rate quickened, as she fruitlessly tried to breathe.

Even though, it didn't happen to her ever since she graduated high school, Petra could never forget the symptoms, the way her body felt in the beginning of a panic attack.

She tried to take a grip on herself, remember the lessons her father taught her. But his words, his wise advices kept escaping her, getting out of her reach before Petra could piece them together.

Her father always said, he always said that in situations like this the most important thing was to... was to…

"Breathe," Levi's gruff voice penetrated through the fog around Petra. "Petra, you just need to breathe, c'mon," he gently but firmly squeezed her shoulders. "In and out, slowly," he instructed her patiently.

After Petra managed a couple of calm exhales and inhales, Levi sighed in relief. "Here," he pressed on her shoulder to sit her down at a chair. Immediately, Nifa appeared with water and granola bar in her hands.

"Are you alright?" she asked, genuinely worried.

"Yeah..." Petra nodded shakily, avoiding looking at Nifa and especially Levi. She felt like an idiot. It was just some stupid note, and she almost fainted because of it. What a badass detective she was. "Sorry for worrying you."

"I understand if you want to drop this case," Levi told her, surprisingly soft.

"No!" Petra jumped from her sit. Nifa, who was hovering over her and measuring her pulse, gave Levi an angry look. "I just overreacted, but I'll be fine, I promise! I can take it!"

Levi watched her for a long moment, his eyes skeptic and doubtful.

"I can't always be there to protect you."

"I know.”

"And yet you still want to continue the investigation?"

"Yes," Petra answered without hesitation.

Levi kept staring in her eyes, as though searching for a sign of doubt. When he couldn't see any, he sighed and shook his head.

"There is nothing I can say that would change your mind, right?"

Petra nodded with a smile.

Levi cursed under his breath. "Tell me when you're ready. Rest for a while, and then we'll start the search."

"I can handle the investigation by myself today," Petra offered. "It's your day off after all."

Levi frowned. "I shouldn't leave you alone."

"I can go with her!" Nifa cheerfully exclaimed, putting a hand on Petra's shoulder.

"Don't you have to be at the lab?" Levi asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Nah," Nifa waved her hand. "I already came here at half past six, the boys can take care of the rest. Besides!" she turned to Petra. "I always wanted to take part in investigation. Oh, we're going to have so much fun!"

Petra couldn't keep a smile off her face, Nifa's excitement was infectious.

"Fine," Levi rolled his eyes. "Go together, but be careful. Do you have a gun, Petra?"

"Of course."

"And my phone number?"

"Yes."

“Good, if you see anything strange or suspicious, call me immediately. Deal?"

"Deal," Petra agreed. And before Levi left, she reached out to him. "Can we talk before you go?" she threw an apologizing look in Nifa's direction. "In private."

Levi tensed ever so slightly, but nodded without hesitation. "We'll be back soon," he said to Nifa and then turned around, leading Petra out of the cafe.

Before they left, he grabbed the granola bar Nifa brought to Petra.

Navigating through the crowd of policemen and curious pedestrians, Levi reached to his car. He opened the passenger door, gesturing for Petra to get in. Then he sat down in the driver's seat.

"Eat," he ordered, thrusting a granola bar into her hand. "And talk."

"Djel Sannes asked me to spy on you," Petra blurted out, shutting her eyes tightly. She was afraid to look at Levi's face. What if he gets angry? What if he is disappointed? What if he stops trusting her?

"Oh," Levi breathed out, surprisingly calm. "I didn't expect that. Did you agree?"

"What!" Petra opened her eyes widely. "Of course, not!" she exclaimed, but then paused, remembering their conversation with Sannes. Technically... "Well, truth be told, I did agree... But only to fool him! I'm not going to report anything to him!"

"You should," Levi said, shocking Petra even more.

"I... I don't understand."

Levi tiredly rubbed his forehead. "I need to discuss it with Erwin first, and I know I'm asking a lot of you..."

"Nonsense!" Petra cried out. "I'm on your side! And I really want to help!"

"Thank you," Levi told her earnestly. His eyes were a little softer than usual. It made Petra feel warmer.

"After what I just revealed..." she began uncertainly. “You still trust me? I could be working for him actually."

"No, you couldn't," Levi answered without an ounce of a doubt.

"And what makes you so sure?"

"Because you're a good person, Petra. And," a little smirk appeared on his lips. "You are a terrible liar."

Petra let out a surprised chuckle. She looked at Levi, feeling her smile grow wider. "So... What do you need me to do?"

"As I said, I need to talk with Erwin first, but... we could make a double agent out of you. You'll give Sannes some false information and then tell me his reaction. I need to know how much he knows."

"You can count on me!" Petra cheerfully promised. A moment later, however, a little frown appeared on her face. “By the way… why does he hate you so much?”

For a long moment, Levi was silent. His fingers drummed rhythmically at the steering wheel, as he appeared deep in thought. Petra was starting to think she won’t get her answers, but then Levi turned to look at her, staring right into her eyes.

“The trust should go both ways, I suppose,” he said. “I... found an informant. I don’t know who they are and I’ve never met them, but every once in a while, they bring me little messages with information. It’s the location of Sannes’ next deal, or a name of some politician who was bribed by him... that kind of stuff.”

“And these messages… they turn out to be true?”

“Every goddamn time. Sometimes I act on them, do whatever I can to stop Sannes’ dealings. Not always, of course, or Sannes would have me removed a long time ago. But he still suspects me, I guess.”

“Oh.” That was a lot to digest. "Oh!" Petra repeated, suddenly remembering. "Nifa is probably waiting for me! I should hurry!"

"Be careful!" Levi told her as she opened the door. "Don't forget to eat," he pointed with his chin at the granola bar she was still holding. "And call me if anything goes wrong, okay?"

"Of course!" Petra waved at him, and then ran back to the cafe.

Despite the worrying information Levi had revealed to her, she felt giddy and relieved, as she maneuvered between the pedestrians under the still going rain. He trusted her. Maybe, they’d be able to become real partners after all.

***

"I'm going to be honest with you," Nifa mumbled after taking a bite from a chocolate cake. "Today kinda sucked. I always thought that detective work was more exciting that just going around and asking people the same few questions."

Petra sighed. She felt exactly the same. They've spent the majority of the day, trying to find some witnesses, but were met with failure after failure. Now she and Nifa sat in break room at the forensics department, drinking tea and eating cake. Moblit was right after all, their tea collection was more than impressive. And Nifa's pastries were delicious.

“I'm sorry that I've dragged you into this," she told Nifa. "You're probably regretting your decision to accompany me."

"Oi, don't be ridiculous. It wasn't as thrilling as I hoped, but it was still better than being stuck in here."

"Huh?" Petra frowned. “You don't like working here?"

"No, don't get me wrong," Nifa answered. "I love my job, but I spend day after day, surrounded by dead bodies, and, more terribly, three boring nerds," she pointed to Moblit, Abel and Keiji, who were discussing something at the other side of the room. "So thank you for taking me with you," she smiled prettily. "I hope we'll become friends!"

"I would like that," Petra smiled back. Nifa was really nice. She would love to be friends with a woman like her.

"I hate to interrupt, ladies," Abel approached them. "But we'll be starting the dissection soon, so..."

Nifa groaned. "What do you need me to do?"

"No, no," Abel assured her with a nervous smile. "The three of us are more than enough for the job, but detective Ral probably isn't as used to smell as we are."

"Oh, of course, I didn't think about it. C'mon," Nifa took Petra's hand, dragging her upwards. "Let's go to your office then. I know where detective Ackerman hides his precious tea stash."

"You want to steal his tea? Won't we get in trouble with him?" Petra fretted, following Nifa out of the break room and up the stairs.

"Don't worry. If your partner wants to yell at me, he'll need to come down here first. Which I doubt he’ll do."

"I thought he visited your department a lot," Petra said with no small deal of confusion.

"Only when he needs an autopsy report or for us to look over some evidence. And he never stays for long."

"Oh."

"It wasn't like that before," Nifa noted sadly. "Before..."

"Detective Zoe's death?"

"Yeah,” Nifa shook her head. “Before that he frequently visited our department. He always complained about the smell," a wistful smile appeared on Nifa's face. "But usually, whenever detective Hange went, detective Ackerman followed. She always managed to bring him out of his shelf. Wait!" Nifa took out a phone from her lab coat. "You really need to see this!” she pushed Petra into an empty hallway, all the while searching for something on her phone.

"Found it!" she exclaimed, thrusting the phone in Petra's hands. She pressed play and cocked her head, hovering above the phone alongside Petra.

A video started to play. Whoever was recording it had really shaky hands, and the image wasn't in a good quality, but it was obvious that it was recorded in some kind of a bar.

"I took it two years ago. We just finished one extremely troublesome case and decided to celebrate with a night of karaoke," Nifa explained, as the camera focused on a small stage.

Three people were standing there, their hands wrapped around each other, as they struggled to keep themselves upright. One person in particular seemed painfully familiar.

"Is that..." Petra gasped, not quite believing her eyes.

"Yes, it's detective Ackerman, Сaptain Erwin and detective Hange," Nifa snickered, watching Petra's shocked expression.

Meanwhile, the first notes of "Don't Stop Believing" started playing. Immediately, Captain Erwin and detective Hange started singing. Erwin's voice was deep, and unsurprisingly, quite nice. However, the effect was somewhat ruined by his extensive slurring. Detective Zoe, on the other hand, wasn’t actually singing. It was more like she was screaming the lyrics into the microphone.

As soon as he noticed that Levi wasn't singing along with them, Captain Erwin nudged him. However, it had no effect at the other man, so Erwin redirected his gaze at Hange. She glanced at Levi and scowled, elbowing him in the side.

Someone in the background shouted "Detective Ackerman, don't be shy!", and Hange elbowed him again, leaning in to whisper something in his ear. Levi rolled his eyes and tugged Hange by the shirt down to his level, so he could reply to her. Whatever he had said made Hange threw her head back and laugh. For a moment, Levi was staring up at her, seemingly mesmerized, but then he shook his head and started singing. He was barely heard, since Captain Erwin's and Hange's voices were so much louder, but there was a soft look in his eyes and a small smile on his lips, as he watched his friends.

"I can't believe that it's the same Levi I know," Petra confessed after the video was finished.

"You should have seen him and detective Hange doing a power duet to “I Was Made For Loving You”. That was something,” Nifa giggled again. “Too bad I was too drunk to record it. So yeah,” she said, hiding the phone back into her pocket. "Detective Hange had an uncanny ability to make your partner more fun."

"Yeah, I wish I could see him act like this..."

"Oh gosh! I'm sorry for putting the mood down! Let's change the subject!" Nifa linked her hand with Petra's, as they started walking again. "Do you know any interesting gossip?"

"G-gossip?"

"Ah, I can see that you don't," Nifa shook her head in disappointment. "Alright then! Do you have a crush on someone from the precinct?"

"What!" Petra's cheeks flamed up. "Of course, not!"

"Liar," Nifa sang. "C’mon, you can tell me! I won't tell anyone!"

And before Petra could deny it any further, she noticed Oluo on the other side of the hallway. He noticed her too. Smiling happily, he hurriedly made his way to her and Nifa.

"Petra!" he greeted. "You didn't change your mind?"

"Of course, not," Petra assured him, ignoring Nifa's curious gaze.

"Awesome, I'll pick you up at seven!" Oluo’s smile grew wider. He waited for Petra to smile back and then left, still grinning from ear to ear.

"It looks like I've got my answer," Nifa's voice was full of smugness. "For how long have you been dating?"

"It's our first date," Petra revealed, deciding that it was easier to just tell Nifa everything she wanted to know.

"First date? How romantic! What are you going to wear?"

"Er," Petra glanced down at her dress. "I was actually going to wear this..."

"No!" Nifa's hands flew to her face. "You can't just come in your work clothes! Absolutely not! Change of plans," she announced, as she turned around, dragging Petra along with her. "We're going shopping."

"But! It's only three o'clock! Our shift has not ended!"

"Calm down," Nifa rolled her eyes. "No one will notice if we leave earlier. Besides, we've done a lot of work today. We deserve some rest."

"But—"

"No buts!" Nifa ordered with a strict face. "We need to hurry, you don't have much time left. It's your first date! Everything should be perfect!"

Petra surrendered with a sigh. Obviously, there was no point in arguing with Nifa. She obediently followed after her new friend.

***

"Look at you!" Nifa cooed, as she finished painting Petra's lips. "You're so pretty! Honestly, I'm starting to envy that Oluo guy. If the date ends up being horrible... well," she winked with a sly smile. "I can always make it better."

"Stop it!" Petra playfully smacked Nifa’s shoulder, blushing furiously.

"It's just an offer," Nifa shrugged. "But seriously, he'd be the biggest idiot in the world, if he doesn't ask you out on a second date," turning Petra around to face full-length mirror, Nifa smiled softly. "You look gorgeous, Petra."

"I..." Petra stared at her reflection, eyeing it critically. She wore a knee-length blue dress. It was simple, but the color accentuated her eyes nicely. Her hair was put up in a small bun with a few strands failing at the side of her face. She had to admit it - she looked good. "Thank you. It's all your doing."

"Nah, I didn't do anything."

"Don't say that!" Petra protested with a strict face. "You took me out for shopping, you helped me pick the dress, you even helped me with make-up and hair!"

"Alright, alright, I accept your gratitude," Nifa smirked cheekily. "And now I take my leave. Your date will be here soon," she turned around, walking out of Petra's room and heading to the front door.

"I had a lot of fun today," Petra admitted, while Nifa was putting on her coat. "We should do this more often."

"Absolutely," Nifa nodded in agreement. "Good luck with your date," she gave Petra a quick hug. "And be careful."

"Of course," Petra promised, returning the hug heartily. "Thank you once again."

"You really need to stop thanking me so much," Nifa scolded, but then smile was back on her face. She waved her hand. "Goodbye!"                                     

Petra closed the door after her, and then walked back to her bedroom. She checked herself in the mirror once again. She nodded to her reflection, more than satisfied with her attire. Then she grabbed her purse, putting phone, keys and lipstick inside. Her gaze darted to a drawer, where her gun was hidden. Maybe, she should take it? Petra almost refused this idea, normal people don't bring a gun on a date. But then again, normal people don't receive death threats.

No one would know that I have it, she tried to reason with herself, but it would make me feel safer.

Ignoring the sensible part of her, Petra swiftly put the gun inside. She closed the purse, and then the doorbell rang.                                               

She hurried to the front door, opening it. Oluo stood on the other side, holding a bouquet of daisies and smiling shyly.

"For you," he said, awkwardly handing her the flowers. He desperately avoided looking at her face. Petra smiled, charmed by his bashfulness.

"Thank you so much," she leaned in to give him a small peck on his cheek. The skin there immediately reddened. Petra giggled, as she took the flowers from his hands. Oluo's eyes instantly snapped to look at her.

He gasped.

"You look..." he cleared his throat, tugging nervously at the collar of his dark red shirt. "Good. Yes, v-very, um, good."

"You don't look so bad yourself," Petra looked him up and down, smirking slightly, when she saw that the blush on Oluo's face became a deeper shade of red, almost in tone to his shirt. She turned around to find a vase for the flowers. "Just a moment, please! I'm almost ready!"

"Just don't take too long," Oluo huffed. "We have a reservation."

The smile didn’t leave Petra’s face while she was putting the flowers into a vase. It seemed like the good old Oluo was back. Of course, she enjoyed watching his embarrassed face, but, as weird as it was, she liked his usual self much, much more.

Huh, Petra mused, as Oluo helped her put on a coat and she felt her heart rate increase, when their fingers brushed against each other, she really liked that idiot. Who could have thought?

***                                                                                                                           

"...And that's how I ended up cleaning the entirety of Erd's apartment," Oluo concluded, hanging his head in defeat.

“You really should stop making bets with him,” Petra rolled her eyes. “He’s clearly smarter than you.”

“Oi!” Oluo cried out, offended.

Looking at his pouting face, Petra started laughing. Gosh, she had never felt so relaxed while on a date. Usually, she was anxious, picking her words very carefully, worrying about her posture and make-up. But being on a date with Oluo was easy, talking and joking and teasing was almost natural. She didn’t remember the last time she enjoyed herself so much.

“So, now that I’ve told you all the embarrassing stuff that happened to me over the weekend,” Oluo drank from his glass of wine and looked expectantly at Petra. “What were you up to?”

“Well, you know,” she self-consciously tucked a stray lock of hair behind ear. “This and that.”

“C’mon!” he nudged her leg under the table. “You’re a detective now! And a partner of Levi Ackerman himself. Spill it out, Petra. How does it feel working with him? Is he as badass as everyone says he is?”

“He’s an ace detective, that’s for sure,” Petra said, remembering her first day and the way Levi cracked the case even before she went to question the suspect. "But sometimes..." Petra stared at her plate, mindlessly tossing the food around. "Sometimes I feel like he looks at me and sees someone else, you know? And he gets frustrated when that illusion is shattered."

"Oh. That must be tough for you," Oluo reached out and covered her hand with his.

"No, no, it's fine," Petra put on a smile. Oluo's gentle touch made her feel all fuzzy inside. "Despite all of this, I like working with Levi. He's really great at what he does. There is a lot I can learn from him."

"What about your case, though? I've heard it's really messed up."

"I..." Petra faltered, not knowing where to begin.

"You don't have to tell me, of course!" Oluo blurted out with a panicked expression, mistaking her uncertainty for unwillingness. "I mean, it's probably confidential and…"

"No, it's not that," Petra assured him. "You're not a civilian after all, and, besides, I trust you," Oluo's eyes softened at her words and he squeezed her hand a little tighter. Petra sent him a grateful look. "I just... it's so complicated, but maybe, you can help me. See something that I don't, you know?"

"Alright," Oluo nodded with determined face. "Tell me about it."

"So the whole case revolves around detective Hange Zoe? Levi's previous partner. On both scenes of murder, we found evidence that's directly linked to her... The glasses were confirmed to be hers, and Levi recognized her jacket that was draped over today's victim... And both scenes of crimes, the apartment complex and that little café, play a big role too. It’s clear that these places were important for Hange, and… for Levi. And!" Petra put her hands into her hair, getting more frustrated as she recalled more details from the case. "There are so many things that make no goddamn sense! Where do Zoe's things come from? What does the killer want from Levi?

Petra took a deep breath and then continued.

“And another thing! The first scene of the crime was meticulously cleaned, the woman had her throat slashed, but there was no sign of blood. The second was mostly clean, too, but blood wasn't cleaned out from the victim's clothes. So the killer goes out of his way to ensure that the scene of murder is clean, but he's clearly not obsessed with it. Then what is his deal? Is it just a habit? Why does he do that? Ah, just thinking about it makes my head spin! There is so much I don't understand."

Petra took a large gulp of wine, avoiding Oluo’s eyes. She probably told him too much, burdened him with her work problems. The first date shouldn’t go like this. You shouldn’t talk about murders. And to think that she didn’t even mention the most disturbing thing – the today’s note!

"Hey..." Oluo began to gently caress her hand. Petra looked up at him, and was shocked to see a proud smile on his face. "Don't beat yourself over it. You haven't made much progress, but you're trying. And, I think, you're asking all the right questions. Now all you need to do is to find answers."

"And that's the hardest part," Petra muttered bitterly.

"Maybe," Oluo agreed. "But you're smart, Petra, and, god knows, you're stubborn. You can do this. I believe in you."

"Oluo..." Petra whispered, her eyes filling with tears. "Thank you so much. I... I really needed to hear it today."

"Oi, c'mon, don't start crying on me," he bent over the table, wiping tears from her face. "You’re not crying, because the date is so terrible, right?"

"No," Petra shook her head, chuckling. "The date is perfect."

"So that's a guaranteed yes for a second one?" Oluo asked with a smirk on his face that was clearly put there to mask his nervousness.

"You know what?" Petra smiled widely. "That's a guaranteed yes for the third date too."

"Yes!" Oluo pumped his fist in the air, attracting attention from all the patrons at the restaurant. Some looked at him with amusement, while other's eyes were filled with annoyance.

"Now let's eat our delicious dinner," Oluo told her, already stuffing his face with pasta. "Now that I'm not afraid that my awful table etiquette will push you away."

"Oluo," Petra smirked. "We've worked at the same office for years. I already know that you eat like a pig."

"And yet you agreed to a date with me."

"And yet I did," she answered with a sweet smile.

***

"Don't take me home," Petra said, as Oluo started the car. He froze with his hand still on the ignition key, staring at her with an opened mouth and wide eyes.

"No!" Petra cried out, as it dawned on her, how Oluo might have interpreted her words. "I need to go to the precinct, and not, um, you know…"

"Thank god," Oluo muttered, as he drove out of the parking lot and onto the street. "Not that I'm against it!" he quickly added. "But let's not move too fast, yeah?"

"Yes," Petra smiled, happy that she and Oluo were on a same page.

"Wait a minute," Oluo fixed her with a suspicious gaze. "What are you going to do at a precinct? It's almost nine pm!”

"I was hoping... to get some work done?" Petra answered sheepishly. "Your words... kinda motivated me."

“Well, of course, they did. I’m an awesome guy,” Oluo said with a pride smirk that made Petra roll her eyes. He was absolutely ridiculous. But, good lord, did she like him. “But shouldn’t you go home and rest? Can they even let you in at that time?”

“If I tell them I need to work, I’m sure the security will gladly let me in. Besides, I’m not going to spend the whole night there, don’t worry. I’ll just look over the autopsy report and then head home.”

“Promise?” Oluo briefly looked away from the road to give Petra a careful look.

“Promise,” she replied, feeling her heart skip a bit. Oluo’s concern, even it was really unnecessary, was extremely endearing.

“Fine,” Oluo huffed. “Go and do your job, you workaholic,” he stopped in front of a precinct and hurried to get out, so he could open the door for Petra.

“Text me, when you get home, okay?” he took Petra by the hand, helping her get out of the car.

“Of course,” she said, reaching out to press a brief kiss on his lips. “I’ll be waiting for our next date,” she whispered, enjoying the dazed look on his face.

Still smiling from ear to ear, Petra entered the precinct.

***

That same dreamy smile was still present on her lips, as Petra made her way through the precinct. She reached the hallway, where their office was.

And the smile disappeared instantly. A cautious, almost worried expression took its place.

There was a light coming underneath the door to their office.

Who could be inside at such hour? Was it Levi? But it was his day off.

It didn't make sense.

Petra slowly reached into her purse and took out a phone, her eyes never leaving that little shimmer of light. With trembling fingers she dialed Levi's number. One beep... two... Petra anxiously waited to hear Levi's ringtone on the other side of the door.

The hallway was silent.

"Petra?" Levi's voice in her ear made Petra jump. She hurriedly backed away, taking a few steps away from the door. "Petra, do you hear me? Is everything alright?"

"There is someone in our office right now," she whispered. "It's not you, is it?"

"What the fuck are you doing at the precinct at night?" Levi asked angrily.

“I wanted to do some work…”

“Jesus—” it was obvious that Levi was pissed and wanted to yell at her, but he took a deep breath, calming himself down. "Doesn't matter now," he added in his normal voice. "I'll be there in ten minutes. Wait for me and don't go in there, understood?"

"Y-yes," Petra answered shakily.

"Don't do anything stupid." Levi warned and then ended the call.

Putting the phone back into the purse, Petra carefully took out a gun.

Levi would be there in ten minutes. It wasn't that long. She could wait for him. It would be a smart choice.

Unfortunately, Petra wasn't feeling particularly smart tonight. She gripped the gun more securely and quietly made her way towards the door. The clicking could be heard inside, as though someone was typing on a computer.

Petra narrowed her eyes, feeling angry. She just couldn't let some stranger, probably a criminal, go through their stuff. It was illegal. And her job was to protect the law. So ignoring her trembling knees, Petra busted the door open and immediately aimed her gun at the intruder.

Their face was obscured by strands of hair, as they stared intently at the computer screen.

"Freeze!" Petra shouted. Thankfully, her voice didn't waver.

It didn't, however, have much of an effect on the stranger. They continued typing something with an impressive speed. They didn't spare even a single glance in Petra's direction.

"I said freeze!" she repeated with more force.

"And what happens if I don't?" they asked in a deep voice, still not lifting their face. "Will you shoot me?"

"Breaking into detective's office is illegal!"

"Technically," the intruder finally looked up. Petra gasped as she took a good look on their face. The hand with a gun fell limply at her side. "It was my office too. Still is, considering that my desk is unoccupied."

Unbelievable. Impossible.

She looked a little different from the woman on the photo Petra found in Levi's desk. She looked older and more tired. There were wrinkles on her face. Her shoulders were slumped, as though an invisible force was dragging her down. There were deep, almost black circles under her eyes— well, eye. Her left one was covered with a black patch.

But even with all those changes, there was no doubt in Petra's mind as to who was sitting behind Levi’s desk.

"...D-detective Zoe?" Petra uttered, staring at Hange with wide eyes.

"Oh, they still remember me in here," Hange noted with a self-satisfied grin. "That's flattering."

"Y-you're alive?"

Hange chuckled, her eye sparkling with amusement. "You have excellent observation skills, detective."

"B-but! How?!" Petra cried out, ignoring the jab.

"Ah, that's quite a boring story. A really long one too, and, unfortunately, I'm in a hurry."

"Wait! You can't leave just yet! Levi— y-you have to see him. He'll be so happy to find out that you're still alive!"

The smile slipped from Hange's lips instantly.

"No," she said coldly. "He can't see me. And you can't tell him that you've met me, Petra."

"How do you know my name?" Petra asked with a deep, suspicious frown. She was sure she didn't introduce herself.

Hange turned her face away. "I know a lot of things," she nervously fixed her glasses. "I... watch over him."

"So you still care about Levi!" Petra pointed an accusing finger at her. "Then why don't you want to meet him?"

"I have my reasons," she sounded strained, almost desperate. It seemed like— seemed like Hange wasn't trying to convince Petra. She was trying to convince herself.

It was obvious that Hange wanted to reunite with Levi. Petra could see that desire in the poorly hidden pain at the bottom of her brown eye. In the hard line of her mouth. In her palms that squeezed the edge of Levi's desk so hard her knuckles turned white.

And it was obvious that there was something keeping her away from acting on that desire. Some conspiracy Petra couldn't even begin to understand. Some plot, set in motion long before Petra became a detective. Possibly even before Hange's ‘death’. But she didn't care about that. Nothing mattered for Petra as much as the sadness in Levi's eyes and her wish to make him happy.

Besides, whether Hange wanted to meet him or not, it wasn't important anymore. That choice was made the moment Petra crossed the threshold.

"Levi will be here soon," Petra stared straight at Hange. "I called him before entering the office."

"No!" Hange's face twisted with panic. "Why would you do that? Fuck, I need to go," she glanced back at the computer, typed a few more words and then rose to her feet.

She wanted to leave. Petra couldn't allow it.

She raised her gun, aiming it at Hange.

"He misses you so much," Petra whispered softly, trying to plead with Hange. "Please, just let him see you. Let him know that you're alive."

"No, I can't, no, not now," Hange ran a shaking hand through her hair. "I have to go."

She took a step forward, seemingly undisturbed by the fact that Petra's gun was trained at her.

"I can't let you go," Petra firmly planted her legs, staring up at Hange defiantly.

"What?" Hange lifted an eyebrow, giving Petra an unimpressed look. "Are you going to shoot me?"

"I won't hurt you," Petra promised. "But I'll do whatever it takes to make you stay."

"Oh, Petra," Hange shook her head. "You're a sweet, sweet soul. And it pains me to do this, but if you don't let me through, I'll have to fight you. And I will hurt you."

Petra anticipated that answer. She also knew that in a fight against Hange Zoe, she didn't have a single chance. It wasn't her wide shoulders, or muscles that were showing even beneath the oversized green shirt. It was years and years of experience that separated them. Hange was skilled, she was smart.

But Petra didn't have to win this fight, just hold out until Levi arrives.

Hange moved fast, so fast Petra was barely able to take a fight stance. She tossed the gun onto the floor and raised her arms, thinking that Hange would hit her in the face. But Hange approached her and laid her hand on Petra's shoulder. She was going to throw her onto the ground, Petra realized, but it was too late to move away. Hange lifted her leg, meaning to kick Petra.

She wasn't quick enough.

Their struggle was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. Hange tensed immediately, squeezing Petra's shoulder painfully.

"No." she whispered, her eyes filled with panic.

"Petra!" Levi shouted behind the door. “Where are you?”

"I'm here!" she screamed back, watching Hange carefully. All color left her face and her breath quickened, as she watched the door.

"Petra!" Levi threw the door open. "I told you not to fucking go… inside."

Levi's hand remained on a doorknob, as he froze on a spot, his eyes wide and mouth open.

"P-petra?" after several seconds of looking at Hange, he turned to her. His gaze, which usually held so much indifference, was now filled with implore. Petra helplessly stared back, not knowing what to say. Not knowing what Levi needed to hear.

"It's me," Hange said, understanding what Levi needed without words. "It’s really me."

"Hange," Levi breathed out. His voice was filled with so much relief and happiness. He ran to her, almost knocking her to the ground. Instantly his arms circled around Hange, as he held her in an almost suffocating embrace.

It must have been painful, Petra thought. But Hange didn't seem to care. She wrapped her hands around Levi just as tightly.

“Please tell me this is not a dream,” Levi asked in a shaking whisper. He lifted his head to stare at Hange. “Please tell me you’re really here.”

“I’m here, Levi,” Hange replied, almost choking as she said his name. “I’m here, with you.”

"You are alive,” Levi spoke fervently in her shirt. "Hange, you really are alive, I can’t believe it."

Hange moved one hand to Levi's head, stroking his hair gently. "You can't get rid of me that easily, shorty."

Levi softly chuckled, not making a single move to untangle himself from Hange.

They would probably stay like this for a very long time, Petra concluded. They more than deserved it. And they also deserved some privacy.

So Petra picked up the gun that was still lying on the ground and then quietly walked out of the room.

Before she closed the door, she threw one last glance at the still embracing couple.

So that was Hange Zoe, huh? A person, who can make Levi come completely undone with just her presence?

Petra smiled to herself. These two suffered for so long. She was glad that they finally managed to find each other again.

[hysterialevi]

Hjarta | Prologue

Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

This story is also on AO3 | Next chapter

NORWAY, 857 AD

THE COAST OF RYGJAFYLKE

“We are all bound by the threads of fate,” the clan’s seeress once told Eivor. “Any attempt to deviate from the path will simply be met with what was always destined to be. It is who we are. It is what we must accept. Even the gods are not free from this truth.”

And yet, Eivor couldn’t help but question her.

As he stood on the shore, watching the ocean’s foamy waves slowly pull back and forth into the sea, he wondered if this was truly what the gods intended.

Did the gods really deem it necessary for his father to die? Did they see a use in killing his mother? What could they have gained from tearing a child away from his parents?

The völva of their clan, Ingrida, always insisted that the Nornir had a set path for everyone in this world, and yet... Eivor felt more out of place than ever before.

Bjornheimr wasn’t his home. Arngeir wasn’t his father. Randvi and Thora weren’t his sisters. This wasn’t where he belonged.

His home lay beyond the icy mountains that towered over the distant horizon, buried underneath a tombstone of ash and rubble. His family awaited him in the forsaken depths of Helheim, and remained entangled in the jaws of Nidhogg the serpent.

But despite his parents’ demise, it seemed that the gods had a different plan for Eivor himself. When the rest of his clan fell to Kjotve’s axe, Thora rescued him from the flames. Like a savior sent by the divines, she whisked him away on a horse and brought him to safety, making him the sole survivor of that night’s attack.

He was still here for a reason -- his miraculous recovery was enough to proof that -- but he just didn’t know why.

He only wished the gods would tell him.

“Why did you let Kjotve kill you, father?” Eivor whispered, gazing down at the worn axe in his hands as flakes of snow fluttered onto its cold surface. “We are warriors. We are destined for Valhalla; you said it yourself. So why did you do it...?”

The boy’s grip tightened in anger, and he brought his eyes to the ocean in front of him.

“...You left me.” He muttered, his tone sharp with betrayal. “You died as a coward, and you left me alone. You went against everything you taught me, and let go of your honor when you should’ve been defending it.”

Eivor took one last glance at the axe, preparing to raise it in the air. “...Well, as far as I’m concerned, your axe can join you in Hel.”

Throwing his arm forward, the boy hurled the weapon into the restless embrace of the sea and let out a frustrated shout, only to be interrupted when someone suddenly grabbed his wrist.

He whirled his head towards the intruder with a quick jolt and glared at them in bewilderment, confused as to who would be all the way out here with him.

When his eyes landed on their face though, it all made sense.

“Ulfar...?” Eivor murmured in surprise. He wiggled his arm, attempting to break free. “Let me go...!”

The man only strengthened his hold more, trying to calm the boy down.

“Easy, little drengr.” Ulfar soothed, his voice straining with effort. “You are hurting. But this is not something you want to forget.”

Eivor tore his wrist from the man’s grip and turned away from him, ignoring his previous statement.

Ulfar was a close friend of Arngeir’s and served their clan as both a raider and advisor, resulting in a rather paternal relationship between him and the jarl’s children. He originally roamed Norway’s waters as a Jomsviking, but finally dropped the lifestyle when he fell in love with a woman from their clan.

He bore the look of a weathered warrior, and displayed many scars across his body. One of the man’s eyes had been rendered blind due to a deep sword wound that carved through his brow-bone, and half of his head was bald thanks to a severe burn whose marks still remained branded in his flesh. 

Overall, he was a stoic man weighed down by the burdens of many regrets, but not one to distance himself from compassion.

Eivor only wished he would’ve stayed in Bjornheimr.

“What are you doing here?” The boy asked sharply. “I thought you were at the longhouse with Arngeir.”

“I was,” Ulfar confirmed, “but then your father asked me to find you. He had a feeling you’d be out here, considering it’s... well...”

Eivor already knew what he was going to say. “...The anniversary of my parents’ deaths.”

Ulfar crossed his arms, letting out a sigh. “Everyone mourns in different ways, but your father is not at fault for what happened that night, Eivor. He did what he did because he loved you.”

“He died without honor.” The boy argued.

“Yes,” Ulfar conceded, “because in the end, you were more important to him than anything Valhalla could’ve offered. When you find someone you love, you will understand.”

The man gently grabbed Eivor’s hand and pushed the axe closer to his chest, holding it firmly over the boy’s heart. 

“Do not abandon him, or his memory. You wish to reclaim the honor your father lost? Then you must fight for it.”

Eivor furrowed his brow. “But how? I can’t kill Kjotve. He would only send me to join my family if we fought.”

“Justice like this is not born overnight, Eivor. You must prepare. You must train. You must never lose sight of what matters. If you can manage to do that, then perhaps someday, the Nornir will bless you with a second encounter. Until then, all we can do is wait.”

The boy wasn’t satisfied. “But he needs to die now. He’s already killed so many people. Why not go after him before he can kill more?”

Ulfar knelt on the ground and gripped Eivor’s shoulders, looking him in the eye. “I share your pain, Eivor. Believe me, I do. I want nothing more than to see Kjotve’s head on a pike after what he did to Linnea... but any attempt to kill him now would only end in disaster. We must bide our time, and we must never let our grief overpower us. Do you understand?”

Eivor picked up on the man’s tone. “...You sound like you’ve done this before.”

Ulfar’s expression sank with remorse. “...I have. I betrayed many people who were close to me in the name of vengeance when I was younger, including my own father. I was banished from my clan as a result, and ended up in Bjornheimr after years of wandering as a stray.” He paused for a moment. “...Trust me, the sacrifice isn’t worth it. You cannot allow yourself to fall prey to these thoughts. It will only worsen the storm.”

Eivor was silent in response, but it was clear to Ulfar that he had calmed down somewhat. A sense of heartache still lingered in the boy’s eyes, but he seemed to be relieved of his aggressiveness from before.

Ulfar stood up from the ground and brought his attention to Bjornheimr, gazing at the fortified village from a distance as the day slowly began to come to an end.

“Come,” he instructed, patting Eivor on the back. “Your father awaits.”

But the boy stayed in place. Despite Ulfar’s insistence to return home, he remained tangled in the countless thoughts that plagued his mind and continued to stare out into the ocean, seemingly getting lost in its ethereal embrace.

“...Eivor?” Ulfar said, beckoning him with a wave. “Come along, boy. The darkness is settling in.”

The child dismissed his commands and simply looked down at the axe, posing one final question before taking his leave.

“Ulfar?” Eivor asked. “If you had a second chance to save Linnea from Kjotve, would you take it?”

The man thought the answer was rather obvious. “Of course. ”

“And if Kjotve asked you lay down your arms like he did my father... would you do it?”

Ulfar fell silent for a second, playing out the scenario in his head. “...I would.”

That only seemed to confuse Eivor more. “Then what makes Valhalla so special? Why spend your life trying to earn a place at the gods’ side if you’re willing to give it up for a human?”

The man hesitated, admittedly at a loss for words. “I... I don’t know, Eivor. That is a question you’ll have to ask Ingrida. I can only tell you how I feel.”

Ulfar stepped closer to Eivor, guiding the boy away from the shoreline. “Come, little cub. We can discuss this later. Let’s get you home first.”

Eivor sighed in defeat, finally deciding to put the matter to rest for now. He didn’t quite understand the meaning behind Ulfar’s words, or why Arngeir insisted on letting more time pass before launching another assault on Kjotve’s people, but he assumed everything would fall into place eventually.

If the stories Ingrida spoke of held any merit to them, then it must’ve meant that the Nornir planned all this from the start. There must’ve been a reason as to why the gods were keeping Kjotve beyond their reach, and denying Bjornheimr any justice for now.

Perhaps it was because they were waiting for Eivor to grow up. He wasn’t much use in a fight in his current state, but with enough training, he imagined he would join his brothers and sisters on the battlefield someday. He would finally have the chance to personally go after Kjotve himself, and take him down for good.

He just prayed that the gods would allow him to deliver the killing blow.

“Alright.” Eivor said quietly. “Let’s go home.”

Ulfar gave the boy an encouraging pat on the shoulder and gently pushed him ahead, guiding him back to the village. 

“Keep your head up, drengr. We are not broken yet.”

~~~~~~~~~~

13 YEARS LATER

BJORNHEIMR

Light.

That was all she could see.

As Synin soared across the wintry meadows surrounding Bjornheimr’s spiked walls, she saw naught but radiant beams of light seeping through the bare trees, dotting the ground with golden blots.

A gentle breeze kissed the ebony feathers rippling on her wings as she brought herself higher in the sky, and in the whistling howl that filled her ears, she heard her owner’s voice calling out to her, beckoning her to the ground.

In one swift movement, Synin angled her body downwards and began gliding towards the lively village, leading her through an abundance of new obstacles. Everywhere around her, men and women of all ages strolled through Bjornheimr’s dirt paths, conversing amongst themselves about recent events.

They were drinking, flyting, playing dice, firing up furnaces, tickling lutes -- and in the midst of all the bustle sat the Wolf-Kissed himself, quietly spending his morning atop a snow-covered hill.

He was currently sitting on a bench with his back leaning against a boulder as he sharpened an axe, repeatedly dragging a stone along the edge of its blade. There wasn’t a care in the world occupying his thoughts at the moment, and considering the agenda for the day, the viking imagined it would be short-lived.

“Synin,” Eivor said with a smile upon noticing her in the sky. “There you are. Find something to eat?”

His companion flew closer to the ground, perching herself on a nearby shrine.

“Good.” He remarked. “You’ll need your energy for today. Apparently, there’s going to be a ‘special’ guest arriving this morning. There’s been lots of preparation involved. I have no idea who it is, though.”

Eivor stood up from the bench and slid his axe back into its handle, strolling up to Synin.

“Just promise me you’ll be on your best behavior, alright? I don’t want to see anyone getting pecked like when Leif came to visit us.”

A second voice joined the scene, diverting Eivor’s attention away from his bird.

“Eivor, who are you talking to?”

The man glanced over his shoulder, only to find himself in the company of his older sister.

“Thora.” Eivor greeted, casually walking up to her. 

Thora was a rather built woman whose flesh was decorated with many tattoos, and had the gaze of a hawk. She had a head of long dark hair that had been braided into a simple ponytail, and was dressed in a traditional outfit consisting of armor and fur.

What really caught Eivor’s attention though, was the irritated expression on her face. 

He chuckled in a lighthearted manner, gesturing to her scowl. “You look happy today.”

The woman let out a sigh. “Well, I’m not. Things have been stressful beyond belief. I’ve been hunting with Eirik all morning preparing for this feast that father wants to hold, and I’ve been trying to find Randvi before King Styrbjorn arrives.”

That took Eivor by surprise. “Wait, King Styrbjorn is the guest father was talking about? But the wedding is a fortnight away.”

“Father wants to give Randvi and her betrothed some time to get acquainted before the marriage takes place,” Thora explained. “He’s also hoping that our clans can become familiar with one another.”

A scoff escaped her lips. “Imagine only being ‘acquainted’ with your future husband. What a joke.”

Eivor picked up on her mood. “I take it you don’t approve of Randvi’s betrothed.”

Thora shook her head. “It’s not that I don’t like him. I don’t know him. Our families are complete strangers, and yet, father expects me to entrust this man with the safety of our own sister. It’s preposterous.”

“Who is her betrothed, anyway?”

“A man named Sigurd,” Thora answered. “According to Ulfar, he’s a man of great ambition and battle-prowess. Others might find that appealing, but in my experience, those are the ones who prove to be the most dangerous. I’m not sure I trust him just yet.”

Eivor let out a laugh. “I’m not sure you trust anyone, Thora.”

“And for good reason. But... I was hoping you could do me a favor, Eivor.”

That piqued his interest. “What’s on your mind?”

Thora stepped towards him, gesturing to the village behind them. “Could you help me find Randvi? She’s supposed to join father at the docks soon, and I’m too busy helping Eirik prepare for this feast. I could really use an extra pair of hands, and I’d rather not keep King Styrbjorn waiting.”

Eivor gave her a quick nod. “Of course. I’ll start asking around.”

His sister sighed in relief. “Thank you, bróðir. I owe you one.” Thora turned on her heel and began making her way down the hill, only to stop in her tracks when a sudden thought crossed her mind.

“Hey, Eivor? If the opportunity arises... could you speak with Sigurd face-to-face? There’s a very small chance he’ll show his true colors around father or Randvi, and I’d sleep better at night if I knew exactly what kind of person we were dealing with.”

The man shrugged. “Why can’t you talk to him?”

“Because you’re the one who’s always been good at reading people. If you see nothing wrong with him, then I’ll know he can be trusted.”

Eivor decided to go along with the plan. “Very well. I don’t see why not.”

“Thank you. I trust your judgement. Let me know what you think of him once you’ve been introduced. I hope that you’ll bring me good news. Otherwise, I don’t fancy the idea of handing Randvi over to someone who could potentially harm her.”

Eivor took on a more serious tone, joining his sister as she descended down the trail.

“We wouldn’t allow it.”

Thora smirked, walking proudly alongside her sibling. “No, we wouldn’t.”