#and forced to watch the events of the games play out just makes his situation even worse.

[takeaslicex]

thinking about sylus cockwarming you when you're being just a bit too bratty at the linkon city auction he so adamantly did not want to attend, though he did find his latest predicament to thoroughly change his mood. dragged to an event he had only attended at your bequest, watching you mix and mingle with half of the attendees with that wine-red dress he had hiked to your hips just hours before, had him desperate to punish you for straying too far from him. how dare you drag him to an event that would surely bore him, and then spend the night out of reach?

that's what landed you in your current predicament, desperately trying to maintain a facade of interest at anything the gentlemen across from you was saying as if you weren't seated on sylus's cock. when he had pulled you onto his lap after sending you a SOS text, his strength and speed were god-like as he swiftly positioned you against his painfully hard cock and pushed your panties aside, positioning himself inside of you intrusively and painfully.

"don't move a muscle, kitten. i have no qualms over claiming you publicly just as i do privately. remember that when you tempt me, little crow," he had whispered into your ear. it didn't take long for the table to fill with people hoping to converse with linkon's best hunter and the infamous onychinus leader, much to your embarrassment and dismay.

you cringed at sylus's absolute control over the situation, responding to the man before him with indifference and disinterest as his cock filled you to the brim. the way he had you seated made everyone else none the wiser to your situation, but you had absolutely nothing else on your mind. only the way sylus so teasingly trailed his fingers over your bare thigh while his cock twitched inside of your pussy had you containing your whimpers with the strength of a god.

while the rest of the guests mindlessly chatted away, sylus made agonizingly small thrusts inside of you, teasing you with minuscule movements, just enough to make your gaze blurry and your skin hot. sylus, who undoubtedly knew this, breathed into your neck and whispered, "what's wrong, my sweet girl? feeling flushed?". and then the bastard laughed.

it was then you realized you could play just as dirty. you reached across the table and feined fake interest in the woman a few seats to your right's jewelry, taking her hand in yours. "oh my gosh, your bracelets! may i see? are those real diamonds? they're gorgeous!" you felt sylus's sharp hiss against your back and smiled, clenching your pussy against his cock to make things worse. you felt his hands dig into either side of your hips and slam you back into his embrace, inadvertently causing his cock to fully thrust into your wet pussy. you used several fake coughs to disguise your sudden gasp.

it was then that sylus had lost any interest in continuing this little game. as much as he absolutely loved to nip and tease at his kitten for hours, the need to fuck you and claim you into tears was much more ravenous. "my car, now," he rasped, slapping your thigh and forcing you off of his cock.

you were, unmistakenly, in for a very long night.

tws: p in v sex, public sex, cock warming, dirty talk, pet names

minors do NOT interact on my blog or this post

© 2024, takeaslicex. all rights reserved.

[alesandraelin]

𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚒𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚍 - 𝙰𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚆𝙵𝙲 𝚡 𝚃𝚎𝚎𝚗!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Description: reader's parents kicked her out and she is struggling. The team is always there for her.

awfc x teen!reader Kim Little x teen!reader

*Homophobic parents, self worth issues, angst with a happy ending

Kim was the first to notice. Kim is always the first to notice if something is wrong, especially when it is something to do with her protégé.

The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when Y/n trudged onto the football field, her heart heavy with the weight of the previous night's events. Her parents' harsh words still echoed in her mind, each syllable a reminder of the home she no longer had. The field, usually a place of solace and escape, felt foreign and unwelcoming today. She tried to shake off the feeling, but it clung to her like a second skin.

As the team gathered for their morning warm-up, Y/n forced a smile, hoping it would mask the turmoil inside. Her teammates chatted animatedly, their laughter ringing out in the crisp morning air. Y/n moved through her stretches mechanically, her mind elsewhere. She was grateful for the routine, something familiar to hold onto amidst the chaos.

Jonas blew the whistle, signaling the start of a new drill. This one involved quick footwork and passing accuracy, requiring each player to move swiftly between cones while maintaining control of the ball. Y/n took her position, determined to push through the haze of her thoughts. She moved with the group, her feet dancing around the cones, but her usual grace was missing. The ball slipped away from her, rolling out of bounds.

"Come on, Y/n! Keep your head in the game!" Jonas called out, his voice carrying across the field.

Y/n nodded, forcing herself to concentrate. She retrieved the ball, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. As she resumed the drill, she caught sight of Viv and Beth, her teammates and a couple, working together seamlessly. Their movements were in sync, a testament to their understanding of each other both on and off the field. Y/n felt a pang of envy mixed with admiration. The ease with which they expressed their love was something she had always longed for, yet it was the very thing that had driven a wedge between her and her family.

Nearby, Katie and Caitlin, another couple on the team, were laughing as they practiced passing the ball back and forth. Their joy was infectious, and Y/n couldn't help but smile despite herself. Yet, the sight also served as a stark reminder of her own situation. While her teammates were embraced for who they were, she had been shunned by her own family for loving women. The injustice of it all gnawed at her, threatening to overwhelm her composure.

Jonas called for a water break, and Y/n gratefully took the opportunity to catch her breath. She sat on the grass, sipping from her water bottle, trying to steady her racing heart. Kyra and Vic had both attempted to talk to the girl only to be met with annoyed mumbles and blank stares. Teyah got the same treatment when she tried.

Kim watched on with a frown on her face, Jen coming to check on what she was so worried about.

"Just look at her, it like every bit of light has been sucked out of her. I can't bear it." Kim sighed as she watched you zone out, kicking at the ground aimlessly.

"You know her better than anyone Kimmy, go talk to her after practice." Jen encourages before they are all called back onto the pitch.

Training didn't get any better for the remainder of the day. Poor passes, sloppy in possession and way off target when shooting. It just wasn't good enough and Y/n knew that. The words of her parents from the previous night going through her head with every failed attempt on goal, every time she lost possession by making a silly mistake.

All the girls saw it, they noticed how sloppy her play had become. A stark contrast to her normal 110% effort every time she trained. It worried them all. They all made an effort to try and boost her up with pats on the back and words of encouragement but they were met with silence and no improvement.

Training ended as the afternoon air came in. The girl made their way off the pitch and back into the locker room. Y/n lingered back as she watched them all converse. Beth & Viv walked hand in hand into the locker room in front of y/n. This made her chest pang, it was jealousy, it was longing, it was sadness.

All the girls chatted as they got changed and packed up their stuff whilst y/n sat in her cubby trying her best not to cry. She was approached by Leah who knelt down to her height in her cubby.

"You alright chick?" The blonde asked, her brows furrowed in worry.

Y/n looked up at Leah, putting a small smile on. "I'm alright, I slept really rough last night thats all, I'm sorry for not being at by best today Lee."

"Don't apologise y/n, we all have off days. Try and get some sleep so we can get our happy girl back yeah?" Leah patted the girls shoulder as she stood up to go home.

With Leah gone, y/n looked around the locker room spotting no one there, she let her guard down and broke. Tears streamed down her face as she replayed the harsh words of the night before. Her parents' anger and disappointment had cut deep, leaving her feeling raw and exposed. She hugged her knees to her chest, seeking comfort in the small, enclosed space she had created for herself.

What y/n didn't know was Kim hung around to talk to Jonas about something and had just reentered the change rooms as y/n was crying. Kim quickly made her way over to the small girl, wrapping her arms around her, pulling her close.

"Y/n?" Kim's voice was gentle, filled with concern. "What's going on sweetheart?"

Y/n quickly sat up, wiping the tears away from her eyes. "I'm fine, just tired." She tried so reason as her voice cracked and tears continued to well in her eyes.

Kim shook her head, squeezing her a little tighter. "You don't have to pretend with me. I can tell something's wrong. Do you want to talk about it?"

Y/n hesitated, the words lodged in her throat. But the kindness in Kim's eyes coaxed them out. "My parents... they kicked me out last night. I finally worked up the courage to come out. They don't love me anymore Kim." The last sentence broke her as she cried again.

Kim's heart ached at the vulnerability in Y/n's voice. She reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Y/n's back. "I'm so sorry, Y/n. That must be incredibly painful."

Y/n nodded, her tears flowing freely now. "I just don't understand why they can't accept me. Seeing everyone else so happy and accepted... it just makes it hurt more."

Kim nodded, understanding the depth of Y/n's pain. "You deserve to be loved and accepted for who you are. And you are, Y/n. By all of us."

Y/n looked up, her eyes searching Kim's face for reassurance. "But where do I go now? I don't have anywhere else, I'm 17 I just want my parents."

Kim's expression softened further, her resolve clear. "You can stay with me, as long as you need. You're not alone. The team loves you and I love you. You are so incredibly brave and strong."

The offer hung in the air, a lifeline extended in Y/n's darkest moment. Gratitude surged through her, mingling with the sadness. "Thank you, Kim. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Kim smiled, her own eyes misty with emotion. "We're a team, Y/n. We look out for each other. Arsenal is a family. You're part of our family."

Y/n leaned into Kim's side, drawing comfort from the warmth and solidarity. The locker room, once a place of routine, had become a sanctuary—a space where she could be herself without fear of judgment.

"You're so strong, Y/n," Kim continued, her voice steady. "And we'll get through this together. You've got a whole team behind you, ready to support you every step of the way."

[penultimate-step]

Lately, I've been thinking about the effect of real-world time on perception of media. Or, wait, let me start from the beginning.

When I was 11, I read the book Ender's Game for some school assignment or another. I don't remember ever considering Ender a relatable character, but certainly my understanding of the events was shaped by being of an age to see the protagonist not so much as a young child but as someone of my peer group, someone who could have been slotted amongst my classmates without anybody batting an eye.

Over a decade later, I read the sequel, Speaker for the Dead; it takes place many years later, when Ender is in his thirties, and my feelings about the in-universe time skip were undeniably shaped by the real life time gap between my reading of the novels. Reading the first book back then and then the second book now created a feeling where it's almost like, I'm browsing the facebook page of someone I had known in middle school but lost contact with, checking up on how they're doing today. The real-time factor caused me to perceive it less like a timeskip, and more like a reunion - the feelings were closer to "oh wow, that's my boy! I haven't seen him in years! Wonder what he's up to?" Which in turn gave me a better position to appreciate the parts of the narrative about him struggling to find a place in his adulthood than I would have been had I perceived it more strictly as a quick skip from 11 to 20 to 36.

While musing about this, I considered a VN I played a few years back, which took place over three in-game days - except at the end of one in-game day, the game would lock you out from progressing for 24 hours real time. So that as the in-game investigator protagonist was ruminating on the information that had been discovered that day, the player would be forced to do the same. In this example, by forcing the player to experience the same timeframe as the in-game characters, the sense of it being an in-depth and extensive investigation increases, even though without the forced pauses the game would be short enough to blow through in a handful of hours real-time.

Which brings to mind how time effects things in long-running serial works. It's well known that an audience which watches an episode or reads a chapter week by week has a very different experience than one binging through whole seasons or volumes at a time, but I wonder if the real time relative to the in-universe time makes that effect stand out more? Fight scenes, for instance, have been known to take up several chapters in certain manga or webnovels. What does it do to the reader's perception, if from their point a view a fight takes a whole month, while for the characters they read about it's only been a couple hours? Readers might feel that the situation is more stressful, since the pressure of the fight has been ongoing for a long time for them, while in-universe it was a rough afternoon but no more than that. Contrastingly, when a series skips ahead or otherwise has long periods of time for characters that feel short for readers, it can feel like no time has passed and everything is still the same, unless the author really stresses the differences in world-state that occurred offscreen. Because the reader hasn't changed at all.

No conclusion here exactly, I just think it's interesting how often an audience's response to a work, the emotions felt, are more closely tied to their real-life timescale, something almost completely out of the author's control, as opposed to in-universe time, which can be intentionally shifted or played with for the sake of the narrative.

[stayandcozy]

Reflection of Us

Hyunjin X Reader Oneshot

WORDCOUNT: 3833

Masterlist

MATURE THEME ADVISED (Smut Focused)

These celebrity parties normally never bothered me. I was used to smiling and just nodding my head as big name idols rambled to me about a lifestyle I completely didn't understand. But that was okay. I didn’t mind and often I enjoyed getting to know more about the life Hyunjin lived. 

When we first started seeing each other two years ago, I made it clear that I didn’t want to share that type of lifestyle with him yet. I wanted something quieter, more romantic. But of course that only got to last a while, luckily we both knew it would happen. That Hyunjins relationship with me would get leaked. It was horrible at first, with fans sending death threats and him needing extra security. But now things have settled down and as my punishment I get to go to these parties. 

Worse was that these were not just social events for the boys but also work. Which meant Hyunjin was off playing the politics of his life. And I was forced to listen as Changbin listed off all his reasons for getting the idols to play a baseball tournament. 

“Oh come on, you have to see it right? All of us in those cute little outfits running around? The fans would eat out of our hands! Imagine how cute Hyunjinnie would look.” 

“Bin, your fans would be too focused on how bad you all are to pay attention to the outfits.” I said while taking a sip of champagne. It was expensive and still tasted like shit. 

“Where is your boyfriend, I need someone to team up with,” and with that he started whipping his head around to look for Hyunjin. I was completely unbothered by his antics so I just shook my head and looked down to check the time on my phone. But when I looked back I saw that his eyes had grown three sizes bigger. I followed Changbins gaze to the corner of the room where Hyunjin was sitting on a chair with two girls on each arm rest. They were giggling at something he said, and touching his shoulder flirtatiously. 

Not here. Don't make a scene, anywhere but here. 

As if he could feel the jealousy radiating off me, Changbin turned to me trying to diffuse the situation. “I’m sure he doesn’t even realize what they're doing.” 

I took my glass of champagne and swished it down in one gulp. “No, maybe not, but I’m not sure that makes it any better.” 

I couldn’t stop myself from staring at them. The way both girls would lean into his sides. It was driving me crazy. It made me even more sick when I saw Hyunjin look up and smile at one of them. What kind of game was he playing? Did he want cheating rumors to start, because this is exactly how you get into that kind of scandal. Or maybe he just genuinely enjoyed the attention. The thought he was enjoying himself started a deep burning in my chest and before I knew it my vision was blurring. 

Sometimes it felt like Hyunjin knew something was wrong when he shouldn't. There have been too many days after work where I couldn’t find the energy to make an effort, and before I could even tell him, he’d be calling me. Telling me how much he loves me, and that no matter what he’d be there for me. That sixth sense he had, must have been the reason his brows scrunched and he looked up to meet my glare.

There was no way from that distance he could have seen me on the verge of crying. But I guess from my deep set frown he knew something was wrong. He started to get up but one of the girls started pouting, put a hand on his chest and pulled him back into the chair. I saw him say something to the girl but then the other put her hand on his thigh. Way too high for it to be innocent. And that was enough for me. I wasn’t going to sit here and watch my boyfriend get felt up.

“Hey Bin, can I take your dorm key? I left my car keys there and I’m not feeling too well.” I let the lie slip out even though I knew he was going to call my bluff. 

“It’s pretty cold outside, do you want me to call you a taxi?”

“No really, I’d rather walk. Give me a chance to ease my stomach.” He gave me a sympathetic look before digging into his pockets to retrieve a key. He dropped it in my hand before walking off in the direction of Chan and Felix. 

I didn’t waste any more time, and rushed to grab my coat and head for the doors. The air outside instantly nipped at my nose and cheeks. Changbin wasn’t kidding, it was unbearably cold. But the temperature was helping cool down the fire burning inside of me. Every time I thought of her fingers grazing his thigh it ignited stronger. Why didn’t he stop them? Was he really enjoying it like I thought? I know that he’s surrounded by beautiful idols every day but never once have I ever felt insecure. Not until then at least. That definitely made me insecure, hyper aware of every flaw on my body. 

Three quick beeps from my phone pulled me out of my spiraling thoughts. 

From My Love <3 

9:52 pm

Hey sweetheart, where did you go? I saw you one second and then you were gone.

9:52 pm

Please tell me you aren’t walking home.

9:53 pm

Changbin told me you left and then called me an idiot…? Did I do something????

I didn’t have the energy for it. I just wanted to get back to my apartment and sleep. I clicked my phone off and instantly another text came through 

From My Love <3 

9:54 pm

I know you saw those. You’re making me anxious. Can you please tell me what’s going on baby? I can’t leave for a bit more, will you at least let me know you’re okay? 

A petty thought came to me, one that I knew wasn’t right but I wanted to hurt him like how I felt hurt. If he was fine with having two random girls flirt with him all night, then he would be perfectly fine not knowing if I was okay or not. Imagining him panicking over me made me feel a little better, which also made me feel insanely guilty. Whatever, he could handle one night of worrying about me. 

The rest of the walk didn’t feel real. I couldn’t recall a single thing from my walk, only that my insides were too numb for me to register any of the numbing on the outside. But when I walked into the dorm building, my ears started to hurt from the cold. I really needed a shower, something to warm me up and calm me down. 

It was rare that the dorms were this quiet. It was nice. 

I figured I still had a good few hours before any of them came home, and Hyunjins shower had one of those waterfall heads that dropped soft water. I opened the door and turned on the water as hot as it would go. A smile crept onto my face as I thought about how Hyunjin has screamed and called me his demon in the past whenever I got in first. But that smile soon disappeared as the thought connected me to everything from tonight, and it hit me again like a train. A scream was threatening to spill past my lips but instead only a choked sob came out. I let my legs give out as I sat and nothing could stop the onslaught of tears. 

What was wrong with me? Was I not enough for him? Did he want something more than what I could give? I couldn’t compete with those girls, who am I even kidding. Maybe it would be easier on everyone if he dated someone from the celebrity world. He shouldn’t even be with someone like me. I should take some space from him. 

The waves of thoughts were exhausting me more and more. I needed to get home. Sleep would bring clarity, surely it would. 

When I stepped out of the bathroom, the steam shrouded around me. Looking up from the ground, I was met with the red and puffy eyes of Hyunjin. I nearly screamed, not expecting anyone home, and feeling all too vulnerable in only a towel. 

“He told me you left because of me…” he started but trailed off when he had to wipe away a few stray tears. It took everything in me not to caress his pretty face. 

“Yeah...” 

He just nodded, and sat looking even more devastated. I couldn’t handle it, I needed him to leave or I was going to lose my resolve. “Please, can you get out? I need to get dressed.”

“Since when have you ever been shy about your body with me?”

”Since now Hyunjin.” 

“B-but I’ve literally painted your naked body before. I’ve stared at it for hours. Thirty seconds of changing is nothing compared to that.” 

I’m not sure why it upset me, but it did. “Mmhm, and that was before I felt like I was competing with other women. Now I don't want you to see me naked.”

His eyes softened a bit but there were still more tears threatening to spill, and I absolutely hated how beautiful he looked with the added sparkle. “Baby… Is that what this is about? About Seoyun and Jiwoo?” So he knew them? I didn’t know if that should have made it better or worse but I felt the familiar burn start in my chest. He shouldn’t have left, I didn't want him to follow me. Seoyun and Jiwoo would make better company. 

“Hyun, please leave.”

“No.”

“Why are you being so difficult? Can’t you see you’ve upset me and I want to be alone?” 

A small, exasperated giggle fell from his swollen lips. “I didn’t upset you. You got jealous.”

I rolled my eyes extra hard at that. “I don’t get jealous.”

“Then why did you leave the party so suddenly?” 

“Because I felt sick.”

“Because you thought I was flirting back,” he said more as a statement rather than a question. 

“No because watching you with them made me realize how terrible we look together!” It exploded out of me before I even had the chance to think. I regretted it immediately. 

“Come here.”

“Hyun no I don’t—”

“Sweetheart. I said come here.” 

He said it with such authority I felt like I had no choice but to listen. I let my legs carry me over to stand in front of him. But that wasn’t enough for him, he wanted, needed me closer. His hands came to my back, and pushed me to sit on top of his lap, straddling him. 

My eyes were closed, I knew I couldn’t look at him. I felt his soft hands push a strand of my wet hair behind my ear and his hand lingered a bit longer, swiping at the remains of old tears. 

“There is only you…” He whispered as his lips ghosted under my ears, “there will only ever be you.” I hated how easy it was for him to affect me. The evidence of goosebumps spread across my arms gave him the push he needed to keep going. “Look at me, my love.” 

And I listened again. I opened my eyes and stared into his. He was searching for something, but I didn’t know what. I stayed quiet hoping he would continue so I didn’t have to reply. I knew if I opened my mouth, I wouldn’t be able to control what I said. 

“When I have interactions with other women at parties like that, it means nothing to me. Truthfully it makes me quite annoyed but this is my life. I can’t risk coming across as rude even if I’m uncomfortable. I let them delve into their little fantasy because it’s easier. Seoyun and Jiwoo are the nieces of one of the big donors of JYP. My managers would have killed me if they said anything about bad manners.”

“It's not fair… I don’t want them to fantasize about you.” 

A shit eating grin spread across his face when I said that. “You do realize what our fans fantasize about right?” God, I really hated him sometimes. I lightly slapped his shoulder and tried to push away from him, but his arms wrapped around my waist and wouldn’t let me move. I kept struggling to slip away and it was useless because his hold was concrete. “Hey don’t try to wiggle out of this!” He laughed and started kissing my neck. It instantly sent shockwaves through my body and my groans of displeasure turned into moans of contentment. I was embarrassed of how quickly the anger melted off of me. 

The anger disappeared completely when I felt him harden in response to my moans. 

“Hyunnie…” 

“When I look at you love, I see art. It’s why you're the subject of most of my paintings. No flowers, oceans, or fields of green could compare to you. Those girls are nothing more than a business transaction. You are my muse, not them. There’s no reason to be jealous because you don’t belong in the same world as them.” 

“Ah—No more, no more… I feel like I’m going to explode from too many emotions.”

“Then is it okay with you if I show you how beautiful we look together?”

I couldn’t do anything but nod my head weakly up and down. He moved me off his lap and walked over to his dresser before shoving it roughly in front of the bed. “Baby what are you—” I asked but I was met with a sly smile and a shushing sound, so I did nothing but sit there and watch as he moved his large full body mirror to lean on the dresser. Excited panic started to rush up my spine. Oh my god he wasn’t going to. Was he? 

My question was answered quickly when Hyunjin came behind me and sat on his knees with me in between them. If the fandom knew him from one thing, it would be his cocky confidence. The way he was able to turn anyone into putty in his hands was a divine gift. One that he used often against me. I couldn’t help but blush as I realized what his intention was, so in order to take a chance to breathe I looked down and stared at the floor. But he wasn’t having any of that, and his beautiful fingers clenched my jaw and forced me to look him in the eyes through the mirror. All too soon he removed his fingers carefully as if to gauge if I’d try to look away. When he decided it was safe he pulled away fully and his fingers went to the buttons of his shirt. 

When I thought earlier that Hyunjin shouldn’t be with someone like me, this is exactly what I meant. He was too pretty for his own good. As if he was made to be looked at. And I couldn’t look away. The way his brows scrunched in focus as he finished unbuttoning sent tingles to my thighs and I subconsciously pressed them together trying to ease the ache he was creating. After discarding the shirt on the floor he nimbly removed his pants, throwing them across the room. 

“Now,” he started. “Look at how beautiful you are.” And he hovered over my hand that was desperately holding onto the towel. I gave in immediately and let him pull the towel down. We were both staring at each other through the glass. His eyes darkened and a hungry look took over his features. It was rare for Hyunjin to get this possessive, this dominant. Staring didn’t last long, he was getting impatient I could tell by the way he subtly arched his hips into my back. Suddenly, he pushed me down so my face was pressed against the bed and my ass was up, all of my intimate parts on full display to him. No matter how many times he saw me naked, I couldn’t help the blush that would paint my cheeks. 

“I’m going to make you cum on my fingers, and you’re going to be a good princess and watch how pretty you are when you cum, okay love?” 

“O-okay.” Was all I could stammer out before I saw him take the band around his wrist and throw his hair half up out of his eyes. Fuck, he was doing it on purpose. His eyes met mine again as he twirled a strand out of the pony tail and let it fall. He knew this hairstyle made me flustered. Whenever he did it at practice he would purposely send me a picture to tease me. And that’s what he was doing right now. That cheeky grin was back, and a groan slipped past my lips. 

“Hyunnie, if you’re going to tease me all night, I’m going to go back to being mad at you,” I said. 

“Oh? Is that so…” He trailed off and I felt those godly fingers slip between my folds. “You’re too wet to be mad at me sweetheart. You would dare leave.” 

The feeling of his fingers dancing on me was making me dizzy and if I didn’t get more soon I was going to pass out. I started grinding myself back onto him. Thankfully he finally listened and those sweet fingers pushed inside me. He was slow at first, taking his time as he eased a second finger in. I caught a glimpse of us in the mirror and moaned at the sight. Hyunjin had one hand placed on my ass, and the other pumping in and out of me at a fast pace. The way he stared, captivated by me sent another shock to my brain and I could feel my orgasm bubbling. 

“Fuck… God.. Ugh baby look at you. I’m going to cum just from looking at you. You wanna cum baby? You wanna cum on my fingers?”

“Yes, god please, please, please, yes.” 

“Give it to me then baby. Cum for me.” 

And as if his every word held some supernatural force over me I did. I screamed out his name as I came around those stupid fucking fingers. 

“Did you see how pretty you looked, love?” 

Oh fuck. “I’m sorry, it felt so good baby I closed my eyes.”

He tsked, and I felt him shed his underwear. “I guess I have to do it again then and make sure you’re watching huh?” This side of Hyunjin made me weak in every way. I felt drunk on the dominance he was feeding me. I loved taking the lead with him normally but I couldn’t lie to myself. It felt insane to let him use me however he wanted. 

Before I knew it, I could feel him plunge himself into me in one slick thrust. The remains of the previous orgasm made it too easy for him to slide in. He let out a breathy moan and I snapped my eyes to the mirror to watch him. The image was so lewd. Hyunjin had both hands on my hips as he set a quick pace. I stared in awe as I watched him fuck me. Both of our moans joined together. He was right, we did look beautiful together. I nearly came when I saw him let out a light laugh and swipe his tongue over his teeth as he let out a vulgar moan. 

Watching him was bringing me closer and closer to another orgasm. 

“Mmm feel so good baby, I’m not gonna last much longer if you keep clenching me like that.” He said breathlessly. 

He was fucking me at a ruthless pace now, chasing his own high as he took quick deep thrusts. I couldn’t take it anymore, it felt so good. I let my head rest on the bed and closed my eyes for only a moment. 

“Nuh uh, we’re not doing that again,” he said as he reached forward and pulled my hair back towards him. The pain forced another loud moan out of me and it only encouraged him to go harder. I could tell he was closer from the way his eyebrows knit together and his thrusts become sloppy and greedy. He looked completely fucked out.

“Need you baby, need you to cum in me.” I managed to get out.

“Oh fuck…” and he fucked into me impossibly deeper. He still had a fist full of my hair forcing me to look in the mirror. I came instantly when I felt the warm jets of cum fill me. Clenching around him in flutters. 

He pulled me closer to his body and I felt the sticky sweat cling to my skin. His head was resting on my shoulder and I felt him watching me through the mirror, breathing heavily. I took a breath before I looked to meet his gaze. 

“See? Beautiful. We belong together. You fit me like a puzzle piece.”

I felt a pang of guilt wash over me and quickly slid off of him and turned to sit in his lap. 

“I’m so sorry I was so cold to you. I just got so insecure.” 

“It’s okay sweetheart. I understand completely. But no more being a brat to me over jealousy okay? That’s my thing.” I could help but giggle at him. He was truly the best, and I couldn’t have asked for a more caring boyfriend.

“Yeah I’ll leave the dramatics and brattiness to you. I don’t wanna feel jealous ever again.”

“Really? Not even after I fucked the jealousy out of you?” 

“Hyunjin!” 

“What! It’s true.” He giggled. God I loved him. I never hated him. I pressed my lips to him and felt him melt into my touch. 

“I love you.” I whispered. 

“I love you too.” He replied. 

His eyes looked at me so innocently and I felt that school girl crush creep up on me. What did I do to ever deserve him?

“You deserve me.” 

“How did you even—“

“I told you, you are my muse, love. I know you better than you know yourself. Come on, let's get you cleaned up and go cuddle. I expect two hours of back rubs as an apology for thinking I’d ever choose anyone but you.” 

And with that he stood and took my hand leading me back into the bathroom. A smile crept onto my face and I thought about how beautiful we looked together. I felt all of the worry melt off of me and something warmer, softer spread throughout my body. 

Author Note

You may have seen this before! I posted it on my private account, but decided I should post it here too. No I’m not stealing anyone’s work haha, I’m the original author. Thanks! Hope you enjoyed it you dirty freaks. <3

[goldsbitch]

Just don't talk----

-ever.

p6 to Just don't talk

summary: Enemies to lovers on steroids. Lando gives everyone around him a hard time.

warnings: cursing, typos

He couldn't keep doing that. She sat back at the table, flustered as she watched him return too. Smirk on his face as if he'd just won the lottery. Why was it that he got what he wanted and also made her super horny? Was any of this really fair?

She was riled up, wanted more and had a hard time keeping this cool girl persona up. Cursed herself for always giving him what he wanted. He whispered and she danced like a trained puppy. This had to stop. There wasn't a cell in his body that deserved her attention or care. No. She downed a glass of wine sitting in front of her, that being her fourth glass. What the hell. Lando was just another asshole she hooked up with few times. While the sex was mind blowing, everything else about him infuriated her. He got away with all of his one night stands and she had to stay there and watch it with a smile. Not anymore. None of that tonight. She went to catch a breath for a moment. This is what he was making her do. Brough the worst parts of herself out. It was nice to fool around, but at some point it had to end. Was that moment here already? The best thing for her to do would have been to go home at that point. But she didn't.

Lando was over the moon, happy and excited. In his mind, he was already at Y/N's, or maybe even at his place, what the hell, why not, fucking her senselessly and receiving her heavenly devilish bite marks on all places where he could keep it somewhat secret. He came back to the table, shot a little smirk her way, as if he wanted to convey his plans non verbally. But his main goal to appear as if it was all normal, so he came back and finally joined the conversation. He had to bite his own lip to keep him from smiling.

His excitement transformed into a slight confusion when he saw her coming back from the outside and sitting right next to Oscar, just few seats away from himself. These two never spoke before, or at least not to his knowledge. So what was this about? It took him fifteen minutes of sitting on the other side of the table, watching his teammate having a chat with his secret hook up link before he got up and shamelessly moved over to join them.

Y/N and Oscar had actually spoken more often than Lando would know - since he rarely paid attention to Oscar when his job didn't require him to, and people surrounding Oscar. It's not that she would call them friends, but they were closer than most rookie drivers would be. Oscar's girlfriend was one of the few people around the paddock with whom Y/N could share her thoughts - when the team rivalry wasn't at its peak of course.

Y/N felt like some toxic thoughts were forming in her head once the adrenaline come down started, but decided to go for a safe option that might save her dignity after all.

She chatted with Oscar, asked about Lily and what she was up to. Oscar's dry humor made her laugh. Y/N wished she had a wholesome story to tell as he had. Just seemed so grounded compared to he recent turmoil of events. Now, dignity and peace was definitely not something that Lando would be concerned about. When his emotions got involved, he was an unstoppable force willing to bang his head to the wall like there was no tomorrow. His unhinged interviews were the usual result of that. Now, he was ready to cause a stir. He was not about to watch the two flirt without inserting himself into that situation.

He marched over, like the menace he sometimes was.

"So, since when are you two such chatty buddies?" he asked, bumping into Oscar in process. Y/N looked at him with a worrying look. What was his game plan? What if he exposed them? "Hello to you too," replied Oscar. "There is about 7 people of our age at this party, so that would be a factor playing in," he continued dryly and Y/N laughed a little. "You're right, there is a lot of adulting adults around," she realized. Lando was worried he might start to understand how Alonso felt. "Well, let me join the kids table then. What's the topic?" "Um, I was just telling Y/N about Lily's-" "Oh yeah, you have a girlfriend! One would almost forget, where is she anyway?" Y/N wasn't aprreciating how Lando interrupted Oscar. Judging by the younger driver's expression, it wasn't the first time. "Why would you even care," Y/N asked, well aware of how Lily disliked him. "I am just generally nosy, that would be all," he smiled and though Y/N would never admit it, she nearly melted. "Ha, my relationship? That would not interest Lando, right?," he told Y/N loudly and then turned to Lando. "Poor Lily, you almost scared her once with the rant about how relationships are pointless and hold one back anyway." Oscar was still bitter about that one night when Lando sort of lost it and his own anxiety broke away in a very aggressive form. Lando wanted to apologize anytime Oscar mentioned it, which was few times already. But there was always an audience. And this time it was the girl he was currently fucking with. Girl that was somewhat of an enemy. Not the ideal situation to reveal personal stuff.

"Boys will be boys, am I right?" he just blurted out and wanted to slap himself immediately. He wasn't the only one sitting at the table who wanted to do that. Y/N frowned and scoffed loudly.

"And this is who we call the feminist in F1..." "They really do, that must bother you so much, huh" he commented with cheeky arrows shooting from his eyes. Oscar wanted to go home at that point. Y/N was tired. Not even an hour ago, they were making out in the bathrooms and now he is just attacking, again. "I am very much looking forward to winning a race before you do," she said coldly. Oscar laughed a bit. It was that which truly sent Lando over the edge. "Not sure how, you can't fuck a stop watch." Lando heard his own words and hardly believed he actually said something like that, the combination of alcohol, jealousy and frustration making the worst out of him. Silence fell. She sighed so deeply one would think it was to be her last breath. What was wrong with him? "You're just a primitive fuck boy, aren't you?" "Great minds work alike, apparently." He turned his body, forgetting about the bite mark she gifted him with and flinched. She noticed his expression and saw it as a direct attack, him mocking her and belittling her. "Ok, that's it - Oscar, have a nice evening, if that is even possible in this company," and with that she got up and left, walking as quickly as was socially acceptable. Lando cursed himself mentally. His old habits of communicating with her not keeping up with his own personal growth. "Tell me why, you're the absolute worst version of yourself when she is around?" asked Oscar, while inspecting Lando's face. "I truly don't get it." "I don't either," he whispered softly and got up to chase after her.

"Leave me be!" she said quietly when he caught her, trying to avoid causing a scene. "Bathroom, now," he replied, understanding her intention. "As if, you asshole," she replied, completely misreading his intentions. Lando sighed. "Please, I just wanna talk."

There they stood, in front of the bathroom they'd left a mere half an hour ago. "You need to stop," she started, angry as ever. "Sorry, I didn't mean to - it was suppose to be a joke-" "You can't go around telling everyone I fucked someone from the paddock." "I didn't! I understand-" "No, you don't! You will get branded as a fuck boy, but I get branded as a slut! Our so-called progressive society is still ready to throw any girl that dares to have casual sex with her coworkers under the bus!" "But we're not coworkers..." Not that they particularly tried, but they knew each other more that an acquaintance would. Lando knew she wasn't talking about him. She didn't say a thing. A little slip up that might cost her. "Yes, we're not." "Y/N, did you sleep with someone from your team as well?" he asked quietly, not knowing why that thought made his stomach twirl. She did. Months ago. So what? It was a one time thing. A mistake - just like Lando apparently. "Why are you looking at me like that? You're proving my point. You're out there, fucking people left and right, nobody bats an eye. I do it once and I can see the word slut written in your eyes." He was taken back. "Was it recently?" Why was he asking her this question? "Whoever else I might have fucked doesn’t have anything to do with you, if I'm not mistaken."

She burned him with her look. He was looking back to the hall, where all the happy people sat. Could have been any one of them. Why was this bothering him? Could be any one of them. Was he just selfish? Could be any one of them. What if she screamed his name? She never had with him. Could be any one of them. "You're right, it does not have anything to do with me, and you do whatever and whoever you want. But it also does not mean that you fucking around should make me happy." His change of tone shocked Y/N a bit, making the anger leave her system. She admired his sudden honesty. She could never admit that the thought of him with that model made her almost throw up. Was this getting out of hand? "What is this about?" she asked, afraid of his answer. This time it was him taking a deep breath and looking her in the eye. "I don't know. Just wanted to say I'm sorry for being a dick." "You don't need to. Makes it easier to hate you back." "Do you think I hate you?" "Well, you're not exactly pointing in any other direction, aren't you!" He was about to interrupt her, but failed. "And no, fucking me against the door does not count."

Lando wondered when this night turned from a fun hot goofing around into this fail of a conversation. He was looking forward to touching her again. But all that suddenly went out of the window. Y/N gave him time to gather up a response. And when he didn't, she wished they hadn't talked at all that evening. They were just not good at it.

part 7

_________________________________________

@scopeiguess @leclercsluv @sulliamour @starmanv

[woso-fan13]

Whumptober 2023: 1 (Arsenal)

No. 1: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.”

Safety Net | Swooning | “How many fingers am I holding up?”

You had laughed at the viral video of Sam hip checking a pitch invader, the move being such a classic Sam move that you didn’t even think about the possibility that something bad could have happened. It seemed so unlikely that someone would manage to make it past security, onto the pitch, and then over to the players just to harm one of them. 

But it happened. It was the 86th minute and you had just assisted Beth with an absolute banger. You were resting your hands on your head, not paying attention as you tried to force air back into your lungs before the game restarted. 

You weren’t paying attention to much of what was happening, only noticing when you heard multiple players- teammates and opponents alike- shouting your name in a panic. You looked up to see a very large- very scary- man charging towards you. You did what most teenage girls would do in your position and froze. 

He rams into you, knocking the two of you to the ground forcefully. His tackle was definitely more American football style than the type of football you usually played. 

You lay on the ground, this man who is easily a foot taller than you and double your weight crushing you. You can’t scream, can’t move, you’re just paralyzed with fear. 

In a recurring theme, Sam Kerr decides to handle the situation herself. You can finally take a breath- shallow and shuddering- as you watch your opponent pull this beast of a man off of you and stand over him. Your panicked eyes manage to find security, making their way over, but that’s the last thing you see before you’re enveloped into a hug and your vision is obscured by someone’s body. 

Viv. Viv was safe. So you latched on to Viv, your fingers gripping into her jersey as you shoved your face into her neck. You were spiraling and Viv was your safety net. 

The next little while is a blur, but you remember getting taken to the side of the pitch. When Viv tried to push you into someone else’s hold, you freaked out. Sobbing, you clung tighter to her, begging her not to leave. Leah was shocked that you wouldn’t move into her embrace, she knew that you trusted her. Trying to help you out, she unlatches your hands and tries to pull you into her arms. 

You become dead weight, sobs breaking through your hyperventilation. Jonas took pity on you, telling Viv she could be subbed out to stay with you. The woman quickly picked you up off the ground, carrying you back through the tunnel and into the locker room. 

She sat on the bench in front of your locker, cradling you in her lap. She rocked gently, speaking quietly to you in Dutch. You couldn’t understand her, but the process and the soothing tone calmed you and you were able to regain control of your breathing. Even as your sobs slowed and eventually stopped, Viv kept up the calming repetition. By the time you had finally calmed down enough that Viv was no longer afraid that you were going to make yourself sick, you were slumped into her, your exhaustion clear. 

Explaining everything to you before she makes any move, Viv manages to rinse you off in a shower and get you dressed in a sweatsuit. She has you sitting in between her legs as she brushes your hair out when the locker room door opens. 

It was quiet, something that was a rarity for the team. Everyone was in shock still, the previous events having shaken everyone up. You huddled closer to Viv as everyone entered. Realistically, you knew that they would never hurt you- the whole team had become older sisters to you. But still, the nagging thought in the back of your mind was that he might be there, coming for you. 

Everyone’s gaze was sympathetic as they looked at you, giving you a wide berth. You sat still for the next while, watching as everyone went to shower and put on clean clothes. No one approached you until Viv gestured to Leah and Beth to come over. The two women walked slowly, not wanting to spook you. Beth moves to sit next to Viv and Leah crouches in front of you. You can hear Viv whispering something to Beth, but you can’t make out what she’s saying. 

“Schatje,” Viv says, getting your attention, “I need to go shower. You’re going to stay right here with Beth and Leah, and I will be back as soon as I can.”

Partway through her sentence- when you realized that she would be leaving- you turned your body enough to cling to her again. You wiggle as close as you can to her, tears beginning to flow again. 

“I know it’s going to be hard, but you’re going to be okay. I just need 10 minutes, I can leave a timer on my phone. After that, you’re coming home with Beth and I and we can cuddle for the rest of the night,” Viv had hoped that the promise of a quick reunification and snuggles would be enough to convince you to let go. 

It wasn’t. You began sobbing harder, your cries becoming more frantic as you felt someone else rest a hand on your back. You squirmed, trying to get away from the other person while staying as close to Viv as you possibly could. Your panic only heightened when you heard Beth whisper, “just go,” to Viv. 

You began hyperventilating, pleading with Viv to stay between breaths. She couldn’t leave, you needed her. 

You felt her shift under you, and you felt another pair of arms wrap around you from the back. It was awkward, but you were transferred into Beth’s arms, your back to her chest. Her grip around you was tight, her hug keeping your arms down at your side. 

You’re fully panicking at this point, and it only increases when you see Viv stand up and walk away. As soon as the door shuts behind her, you become inconsolable. 

Leah resumes her position in front of you, very carefully moving her hands towards you. She makes sure that you see her, that you’re aware of her presence, before she puts her hands on either side of your face. Still, you flinch. 

She angles your head so that you’re looking directly at her, panic also evident in her eyes. This was a situation that no one had seen before, the team’s happy-go-lucky little sister was broken. 

“You’re alright, Love, you’re going to be okay. Viv’ll be back as soon as she can, and then we’ll get you home. No one in this room is going to let anything else happen to you, you’re safe,” Leah continues to speak calmly and reassuringly to you, still holding your head so you’re forced to look at her. 

Your eyes are wide, frantically searching the room for any possible threats. After about five minutes of Leah reassuring you and Beth holding you tightly, you finally make eye contact with Leah. Both women breathe a sigh of relief. It might be small, but it’s an improvement. 

A few minutes after that, your breathing becomes somewhat more controlled. You’re sobbing and your breath is hitching as you choke and cough around your sobs, trying to catch your breath. But you weren’t actively having a panic attack, which, again, is an improvement. 

Leah, feeling bold, moves one hand to smooth back your hair. When she feels you lean every so slightly into the touch, she continues stroking your hair. You were coming back to them, albeit slowly. 

You’re so distracted by looking at Leah as she guides you through your breathing that you don’t notice the door open. You’re not even aware as a figure approaches, fully trusting Leah and Beth to keep you safe. You only notice as this person sits beside you and rests a hand on your leg. 

Viv. Viv is safe. Again, you throw yourself at her, almost knocking her off the bench. The only difference this time is that your legs are still in Beth’s lap, and Leah still had a hand resting on the back of your head. 

Viv hugs you tightly. She would never admit it, but she hadn’t wanted to separate from you either. Realistically, she knew you were safe and that you would be okay with your teammates. But, still, a little part of her didn’t want to let go and give anything else the chance to hurt you. She could feel your hands gripping into her shirt, clutching like you were afraid she would disappear. She held you just as tightly. 

After you have calmed down from your reunification, Beth and Leah slowly remove themselves. The three women hear as you whimper slightly at the loss, Beth and Leah having to hold back smiles. Instead, they gather all of their belongings, shoving them into bags as quickly as they can. Beth grabs Viv’s bag and Leah grabs yours, and the two return to you in about a minute. 

It would take some time, but the three women would eventually coax you out to the car, Viv settling in the back seat with you. The other two sat in the front, almost constantly staring back at you in the mirror. 

The drive was short, and you pulled up to a familiar house. Viv steps out of the car, pulling you into her arms. The simple act of getting you away from the stadium had allowed you to calm considerably, and you were no longer crying. Your breathing was steady and slow, your eyes blinking heavily as both physical and emotional exhaustion consumed you. But you knew you were going to be taken inside and snuggled between all of the women. Everyone already knew that Leah would be staying, the woman already having invited herself over. And tomorrow, though you didn’t know it, the rest of the team would be showing up with breakfast. With your support system, you would be okay. 

[lila-lou]

✨His true fate - Part 25/?✨

Summary: Jensen hasn't been happy for years. But it seems almost impossible for him to escape. After another nasty argument between him and his wife, he decides to visit his ´former´ best friend for his birthday. Back in Austin, an encounter awaits him that will turn his life completely upside down.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Language, age gap, angst

Word Count: 6102

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💙

As the panel continued, Jensen found himself glancing at the clock more frequently, silently willing the minutes to pass faster. He answered questions as best as he could, but the more Danneel embellished their relationship, the more difficult it became for him to stay composed.

By the time the panel was finally drawing to a close, Jensen felt drained. He could feel the weight of the day pressing down on him, and all he wanted was to step away from the spotlight, away from the lies, and figure out how to regain control of his life.

Danneel stood up as the crowd applauded, waving and blowing kisses to the audience as she took Jensen’s hand again. He stood beside her, forcing a smile for the fans, but his thoughts were far away. The panel had ended, but the complications in his life had only deepened.

As Jensen, Danneel, and their bodyguards made their way off stage, the adrenaline from the panel slowly began to fade, replaced by an uncomfortable tension. Jensen walked ahead slightly, his mind still spinning from the charade he had just endured. The applause from the fans continued to echo in the background as they waved goodbye, but his thoughts were elsewhere.

Danneel, however, stayed close to him, her smile still plastered on her face as she waved to the remaining fans. But her demeanor shifted the moment they stepped into the privacy of the green room, the warmth in her expression replaced by something colder and sharper.

She leaned in close to Jensen, her voice a low hiss through gritted teeth. “Your little bitch here today?”, Danneel whispered, her eyes flashing with bitterness and barely-contained anger.

Jensen stiffened at her words, his jaw clenching as he stopped in his tracks. He turned to face her, his expression darkening with frustration. “This isn’t the time or place, Danneel", he muttered quietly. The bodyguards, sensing the shift in mood, kept their distance, but they were still close enough to offer a protective barrier from any potential onlookers.

Danneel’s eyes narrowed, her voice dripping with venom. “I bet she’s off sulking somewhere after seeing me up there with you. How pathetic”, she sneered. “I know she hates it, watching us play the perfect couple”.

Jensen took a deep breath, trying to maintain his composure even though every fiber of his being was fighting the urge to lash out. “Enough”, he said firmly, his voice low but controlled. “We’ve talked about this. You don’t need to make this worse than it already is”.

Danneel raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest. “Worse? Oh, Jensen, you haven’t even seen what worse looks like”, she replied with a cold smile. “You’re the one who put us in this situation. If you think I’m going to just sit back and let you move on without consequences, you’ve got another thing coming”.

Jensen’s frustration deepened, but he knew there was no point in arguing with her here, not with people around who might overhear. He took a step back, his voice quiet and steady. “You need to stop with this, Danneel. This isn’t helping anyone—especially not our kids. I’m done playing games”.

Danneel’s smile faded slightly, her eyes darkening as she glared at him. “We’ll see”, she whispered before turning away, her posture still rigid with anger as she headed toward the exit. The bodyguards followed closely behind, ensuring she was escorted out of the building safely.

Jensen stayed behind for a moment, taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair. His heart was pounding, the weight of the day’s events pressing heavily on his shoulders. All he wanted now was to find some peace, to figure out a way forward without being pulled back into the toxic cycle that Danneel seemed determined to maintain.

He pulled out his phone, feeling the overwhelming urge to reach out to you, to hear your voice and remind himself of why he was doing all of this.

Jensen stared at his phone, your name glowing softly on the screen. His thumb hovered over the call button, but doubt crept in. The memory of sending you away earlier hung heavily in his mind. He knew it had hurt you, and now, after everything that had just happened with Danneel, he wasn’t sure if you’d want to talk to him. The last thing he wanted was to make you feel like you were caught in the middle of his mess.

He let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair again. What he wanted—what he needed—was to hear your voice, to feel grounded in something real. But he also didn’t want to burden you further. You’d been through enough today, and he knew you needed space, even if that meant he had to deal with the weight of it all on his own.

Instead of calling, he typed out a quick message, hoping it would at least let you know you were on his mind.

Jensen: Hey, I hope you're doing okay. I'm sorry for everything today. I know it wasn't fair to ask you to leave. I just didn't want you to have to go through all that.

He stared at the text for a moment, his thumb hovering over the send button. He wanted to say more, but no words seemed right. Finally, he pressed send, the message slipping out into the ether with no guarantee of what kind of response—if any—he would get.

Jensen slipped his phone back into his pocket and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes for a brief moment as he tried to collect himself. The weight of the day, of everything that had transpired, pressed down on him, and all he could think about was getting through the next few hours until he could escape the spotlight.

As he pushed himself off the wall and headed back toward the photo op area, his mind drifted back to you. He hoped you were okay, that you understood why he had done what he did, even if it had hurt. And more than anything, he hoped that once the dust settled, you would still be there on the other side, waiting for him.

For now, though, he had to face the remainder of the day with a smile, knowing that the real work—fixing things with you and navigating the storm Danneel had stirred up—was still waiting for him once the curtains closed.

The rest of the day dragged on painfully for Jensen. Every moment felt like an endless loop of uncomfortable interactions, forced smiles, and Danneel's constant presence at his side, putting on a show for everyone around them. Jensen had hoped for some distance after the panel, but Danneel was determined to be front and center, constantly inserting herself into every photo op and autograph session.

During the photo ops, Danneel stood beside him, her hand either resting on his arm or his back, always maintaining some physical contact. She smiled brightly for the fans, acting like they were the happiest couple in the world, despite the tension simmering just beneath the surface. Jensen’s smile grew more strained with each passing fan, his energy slowly draining as he tried to keep up the act.

"You're so lucky to have each other", one fan gushed as they stepped up for their photo. "You two seem so perfect together".

Jensen forced a chuckle, biting back the retort that sat on the tip of his tongue. He could feel Danneel’s eyes on him, daring him to break character, but he held his composure. “Thanks”, he muttered, barely managing to keep the smile plastered on his face as the camera flashed.

As they moved through the crowd, Danneel would occasionally lean in close, whispering under her breath but loud enough for him to hear. “See, this is what people expect”, she would say, her voice filled with a smug satisfaction. “This is what the world sees”.

Jensen gritted his teeth each time, forcing himself to stay calm. He wanted nothing more than to pull away, to escape from the facade she was building around them, but he knew that wasn’t possible here. So, he played along, offering stiff smiles and hollow reassurances, each one chipping away at his patience.

The autograph sessions weren’t much better. Danneel sat beside him at the table, chatting animatedly with fans, while Jensen signed photos and memorabilia. She made a point to talk about their family, their “shared” experiences, and the supposed love they had for each other. Every word felt like a punch to the gut, but Jensen kept his head down, focusing on the signatures, wishing for the hours to pass faster.

By the time the last fan left, Jensen felt utterly drained. His muscles ached from the forced smiles and tension that had built up throughout the day. Danneel, of course, remained in character until the very end, offering hugs and kind words as if nothing had ever been wrong between them. But Jensen knew better. He saw the calculating look in her eyes, the way she reveled in the attention and the image she had created.

As soon as they were alone in the green room again, Jensen let out a deep breath, his body sagging from exhaustion. He didn’t even bother to speak to Danneel. He simply walked to the farthest corner of the room, needing to be away from her, if only for a moment.

Jensen sat slumped in the corner of the green room, his eyes locked on the screen of his phone. He stared at the message he had sent you hours ago, hoping for any sign of a response, but there was nothing. The silence on your end was deafening, and it only added to the weight of the day pressing down on him.

He let out a heavy sigh, his frustration evident in the way his fingers tightened around the phone. He couldn’t stop thinking about you—whether you were okay, whether you were angry with him, or just needed space.

Nearby, Danneel was on her phone, talking loudly to one of her friends, her laughter grating on his already frayed nerves.

Jensen barely noticed when Jared and Misha walked into the room. They exchanged a glance, clearly noticing the tension in the air. Jared raised an eyebrow at Jensen, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity. He approached slowly, Misha trailing behind him, both of them careful not to disrupt Danneel’s loud conversation.

“Hey, man”, Jared said cautiously, sitting down next to Jensen. “You alright?”.

Misha leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest as he studied Jensen’s face. “You look like you’ve been through hell”, he added with a small, sympathetic smile.

Jensen didn’t look up from his phone, his thumb absently scrolling through the chat with you. “Feels like it”, he muttered under his breath, his voice tired and strained.

Jared exchanged a quick glance with Misha before leaning in closer. “You want to talk about it?”, he asked quietly.

Jensen shook his head, finally locking his phone and setting it down on the table in front of him. “Not really”, he replied, though the exhaustion in his voice told them everything they needed to know.

Misha sighed softly, running a hand through his hair as he glanced over at Danneel, who was still absorbed in her phone conversation, laughing loudly at something her friend had said. “I take it things with… her aren’t going so well”, Misha said carefully, lowering his voice.

Jensen huffed out a humorless laugh. “That’s an understatement”, he muttered. He leaned back, rubbing his hands over his face. “This whole day has been a fucking nightmare”.

Jared nodded in understanding, his expression softening with empathy. “We saw what happened during the panel”, he said gently. “You handled it better than I think anyone else could have, but… man, that had to be rough”.

“It was”, Jensen admitted, dropping his hands into his lap. “And now… I don’t even know where I stand with her anymore. She’s just playing games, trying to keep up appearances, and I can’t do it anymore”.

Misha tilted his head, frowning. “And with…?”. He gestured slightly, hinting at you without outright mentioning your name, knowing how complicated the situation was.

Jensen sighed again, picking up his phone and glancing at the screen one more time. “She’s not answering”, he said quietly, his voice laced with worry. “I told her to leave earlier, to protect her from all of this, but now… I don’t know. I don’t even know if she’s okay”.

Jared placed a reassuring hand on Jensen’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “She’s probably just giving you space, man. You know how much she cares about you. She’ll reach out when she’s ready”.

Misha nodded in agreement. “She’s smart. She’s probably just taking some time to clear her head”, he said, motioning toward the chaos that Danneel had created throughout the day.

Jensen nodded, but the worry in his chest didn’t ease. He hoped they were right—that you were just taking time for yourself, away from the mess that had unfolded. But the longer the silence stretched between you, the more his anxiety grew.

What Jensen didn’t know was that, after leaving the convention, you had gone shopping to clear your head. The stress of the day, the emotional toll of seeing Jensen and Danneel together—it had all been too much. After wandering the shops for a while, you returned to the hotel, deciding to spend some time in the spa to relax and recharge. Your phone was left behind in your room, forgotten in your rush to distance yourself from the emotional turmoil of the day.

As you sank into the warm waters of the spa, the tension in your body slowly began to melt away. You closed your eyes, letting the soothing atmosphere calm your mind. For a brief moment, you allowed yourself to escape from everything—from the chaos, from the hurt, and from the constant worrying.

But even in the calm, your thoughts would drift back to Jensen, wondering how he was holding up, hoping that he was okay, and knowing that eventually, you would have to face the reality of the situation once again.

Jared sighed, his broad shoulders sagging a little as he glanced over at Jensen. “Today’s almost over, man”, he said softly, trying to sound reassuring. “You’ve done enough of this circus for one day. When all this is wrapped up, you should head back to the hotel, check on her, and have a nice quiet evening. Just the two of you”.

Jensen nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on his phone once more. Jared’s suggestion sounded like exactly what he needed—some time away from the chaos, some time with you where he didn’t have to put on a show or deal with the endless drama of the day.

Misha chimed in with a supportive nod. “Jared’s right. You need to reset, and she probably does too. You both deserve a break after today”.

Jensen finally looked up, his expression a mix of gratitude and exhaustion. “Yeah… I know you’re both right”, he admitted. “I just hope she’s okay, and that I didn’t screw things up by sending her away earlier”,

Jared shook his head firmly. “You were looking out for her. She’ll understand that, even if it hurt in the moment. Give her some time, and once you’re back together, you’ll be able to talk everything out. You just need to get away from… this”. He gestured around the room, where the remnants of the day’s chaos still lingered.

Danneel was still on her phone, oblivious to the conversation, but Jensen felt her presence like a weight pressing down on him.

“I’ll head back to the hotel as soon as I’m done here”, Jensen said, his voice firmer now, as if deciding that was exactly what he needed.

As the evening drew closer, Jensen did his best to mask his exhaustion and annoyance. The day had dragged on painfully, every moment feeling heavier than the last, but he managed to push through, his thoughts constantly drifting to you and the peace he hoped to find back at the hotel. However, escaping the chaos of the convention was proving to be harder than he’d anticipated.

After the final event wrapped up, Jensen found himself in the green room once more, surrounded by the cast, Danneel, and the lingering energy of the day. Everyone was discussing dinner plans, trying to figure out where they should all go to unwind and celebrate another successful convention. Jensen, on the other hand, was barely paying attention. His mind was already at the hotel, focused on getting back to you and leaving the madness behind.

He slowly inched toward the door, hoping to slip out unnoticed and avoid any more forced interactions. His plan was almost successful until Rob caught sight of him just as he reached for the handle.

“Hey, Jensen!”, Rob called out, his tone casual and friendly, completely unaware of the tension brewing within Jensen. “Where are you thinking of going for dinner? We were just talking about hitting up that Italian place downtown. You in?”.

Jensen froze, feeling the weight of all eyes on him. He could sense Danneel watching him closely, her gaze sharp as she waited for his response. Jared, who had been chatting with Misha on the other side of the room, noticed Jensen’s discomfort immediately. Jared quickly jumped in to help, sensing his friend’s desperation to get out of the situation.

“Actually”, Jared interjected smoothly, “Jensen’s been dealing with a pretty nasty headache all day. I think he’s gonna skip dinner tonight and head back to the hotel to rest. Isn’t that right, Jensen?”.

Jensen shot Jared a grateful look, nodding along with the story. “Yeah, it’s been a long day”, he added, his voice steady but weary. “I think I’m just going to call it an early night. You guys enjoy dinner, though”.

The room seemed to accept his explanation easily enough, with Rob giving him an understanding nod. “Oh man, sorry to hear that”, Rob said sympathetically. “You get some rest, and we’ll catch up tomorrow”.

But Danneel wasn’t ready to let him off the hook so easily. She narrowed her eyes slightly, a smile still plastered on her face as she leaned forward, her voice just a touch too sweet. “Are you sure, Jensen? I mean, dinner with the cast is always a good way to unwind. You’ve been so stressed today—maybe some time out with everyone would do you some good”.

Jensen tensed, feeling the weight of Danneel’s words. He knew her well enough to catch the underlying message—she wasn’t ready for him to slip away just yet. She wanted to maintain the appearance of the perfect couple, even if it was just for the sake of the cast. He glanced toward Jared, silently pleading for an out.

Jared, sensing the tension rise once again, spoke up quickly. “Nah, I think he’s better off resting. Trust me, if he’s got a headache, he’s not gonna enjoy dinner as much as he should. Let him take the night off, and we’ll all hang out tomorrow”.

Danneel’s smile tightened ever so slightly, but she didn’t press the issue further. Instead, she nodded and leaned back in her chair, her voice light but with an edge that only Jensen could detect. “Alright, Jensen”, she said, her eyes still locked on him. “But make sure you get some rest. We’ve got another big day tomorrow".

Jensen nodded, eager to leave the room. “I will”, he said quickly, stepping toward the door. “See you all tomorrow”.

With that, he slipped out of the green room, his heart pounding with relief as he made his way toward the exit. The moment he was outside, he took a deep breath, the cool evening air washing over him. He pulled out his phone once more, hoping to see a message from you waiting for him, but his screen remained empty.

His heart sank slightly, but he reminded himself that you were probably just taking some time to relax. Maybe you’d gone out for a walk, or maybe you were taking a nap after the stress of the day. Either way, he was determined to see you, to make sure you were okay, and to find some peace in your company after the long and exhausting day.

Jensen made his way back to the hotel, the city lights flickering around him as he walked. His thoughts remained focused on you, on the conversation he knew you both needed to have, and on the quiet evening he desperately hoped for.

All he wanted now was to be with you, away from the spotlight, away from the lies, and back to something real.

When Jensen stepped into the hotel room, the soft light from the hallway cast long shadows across the floor. The room was peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos and noise of the day. As soon as he closed the door quietly behind him, he saw you—curled up in the bed, wearing one of his shirts, your body wrapped tightly in the sheets. The sight of you like that, so small and vulnerable, tugged at his heart.

He paused for a moment, letting the calmness of the room wash over him. Finally, something real. Finally, something that made sense. He carefully slipped off his shoes, trying not to disturb the quiet atmosphere, but as soon as he took his first step towards the bed, you stirred.

Your eyes fluttered open, sleep still clinging to you as you blinked in the soft light. You saw Jensen standing by the edge of the bed, and for a split second, he felt his heart tighten in his chest. He wasn’t sure what to expect—anger? Frustration? Pain? After everything that had happened today, he wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d been furious with him for pushing you away. But instead, there was no fire in your eyes. No anger.

You looked at him, and he could see the sadness that had taken root. It was a quiet kind of sadness, the kind that weighed heavily on your chest and made your heart ache. It wasn’t a scream or a shout—it was the slow, sinking feeling of disappointment.

Jensen swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. He walked over to you, sitting down on the edge of the bed cautiously. His hand hesitated for a moment before he reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. “Hey”, he said softly, his voice filled with the same quiet sadness he saw reflected in your eyes. “I didn’t mean to wake you”.

You blinked again, sitting up slightly, adjusting the oversized shirt you were wearing—his shirt—pulling it closer around you. You didn’t say anything for a moment, but Jensen could feel the weight of your emotions in the air between you.

“I was just waiting for you to come back”, you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. There was no accusation in your tone, just an overwhelming sense of exhaustion—emotional more than physical.

Jensen’s heart ached at your words. He leaned closer, his hand resting gently on your leg, needing to feel connected to you somehow. “I’m sorry”, he whispered. “For everything today. I shouldn’t have sent you away. I thought I was protecting you, but I… I don’t know if I did the right thing”.

You shook your head slightly, offering a small, sad smile. “I understand why you did it, Jensen”, you said. “But that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt”.

Jensen’s chest tightened at the honesty in your voice. He could see how much today had affected you—how much it had affected both of you. He took your hand in his, squeezing it gently as if trying to convey everything he was feeling without words. “I never wanted to hurt you”, he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “All I want is for this… all of this… to be over so we can just… be together. Without the lies, without the games”.

You looked down at your joined hands, your thumb brushing over his knuckles softly. “I know”, you whispered. “I just want that too”.

Jensen felt a rush of relief at your words. He could sense the sadness in your voice, but he could also hear the hope. You hadn’t given up on him—on the two of you. And for that, he was endlessly grateful.

He shifted closer to you on the bed, pulling you into his arms. You nestled against his chest, feeling the familiar warmth of him surrounding you, grounding you. Jensen pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, holding you close as he whispered into your hair, “I love you”.

You closed your eyes, letting the comfort of his embrace soothe the ache in your chest. “I love you too”, you whispered back, your voice full of quiet honesty.

Jensen looked down at you nestled against his chest, and something caught his eye. The dim light of the hotel room cast soft shadows on your skin, highlighting the slight wrinkles and creases on your hands and arms. He furrowed his brow for a moment, then chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood.

“What the hell happened here?”, he teased gently, lifting your hand to inspect it playfully. “You look older than me now”. His voice was warm and affectionate, the teasing laced with genuine curiosity.

You chuckled weakly, feeling a small smile tug at the corners of your lips. It was a sound Jensen had missed all day—a sound that brought a little bit of warmth back into his chest. “I spent most of the day at the spa”, you explained softly, shifting slightly to push closer into the warmth of his arms. “I guess all the soaking pruned me up more than I thought”.

Jensen smirked, lightly rubbing his thumb over your wrinkled skin as if testing the texture for himself. “So that’s where you’ve been hiding”, he murmured, his tone playfully accusing. “Trying to turn into a raisin while I was out there fighting off the circus”.

You laughed a little louder this time, the tension between the two of you starting to ease. “Something like that”, you said, leaning your head back to look up at him. “I just… I needed to get away. I thought maybe a few hours in the spa would help me relax after everything. It helped a little… but I couldn’t stop thinking about you”.

Jensen’s expression softened, and he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry you had to go through that today”, he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin. “If I could’ve spared you from all of it, I would’ve. I just wanted to protect you from Danneel’s… antics”.

You nodded, your eyes closing as you rested your head back against his chest. “I know. And I’m not mad at you, Jensen. I promise”, you reassured him. “It was just hard. Seeing her up there with you".

You shifted slightly in Jensen’s arms, turning your face into his chest as your voice softened with concern. “Did it get worse after I left?”, you asked quietly, your breath warm against his skin.

Jensen sighed heavily, the weight of the day pressing down on him again. He ran a hand over his face, as if trying to wipe away the exhaustion and frustration that had built up over the hours. “You have no idea”, he mumbled, his voice laced with weariness.

Without another word, he pulled you even closer against him, needing to feel you, to ground himself in your presence. The warmth of your body, the familiar scent of you wrapped in his shirt, helped ease the tension in his chest. Holding you like this reminded him of why he was fighting through all the chaos and drama—because this, the connection between you, was what mattered most.

You felt his heart beating steadily beneath your ear, his arms tight around you as if he was afraid to let go. For a moment, neither of you said anything, the silence in the room filled only with the sound of your synchronized breathing.

After a while, the silence between you both deepened into something almost peaceful, though you could still feel the tension in Jensen’s body. You stayed nestled against him, letting the quiet wrap around you like a protective blanket. It felt good to just be with him after everything, but you could sense that something was still weighing heavily on his mind.

Finally, Jensen shifted slightly, pressing his lips to the top of your head before speaking. His voice was softer now, tinged with a vulnerability he rarely let show. “There’s something I need to tell you”, he began, his breath warm against your hair.

You tilted your head slightly, looking up at him with a mix of curiosity and concern. “What is it?”.

He hesitated for a moment, then let out a long sigh as he gently stroked your arm. “I sent Danneel the divorce papers”, he admitted quietly, his voice almost a whisper. “That’s why she came here, why she’s been putting on such a huge show today”.

Your heart skipped a beat as the weight of his words settled over you. You pulled back slightly to look at him, searching his face for more. “She doesn’t want to sign them”, you said, more of a statement than a question, but you needed to hear it from him.

Jensen nodded, his jaw tightening with frustration. “She’s fighting it”, he said, his voice edged with exhaustion. “I thought… I thought it would be easier. I hoped she’d understand that we’ve been done for a long time, but she doesn’t want to let go. She’s trying to hold on to the image, to the life we had, even though it’s over”.

You let out a quiet sigh, resting your hand on his chest as you tried to process what he was telling you. It made sense now—the reason for Danneel’s behavior, the way she had gone out of her way to put on a show in front of everyone, clinging to the idea of their relationship despite everything.

“She’s trying to make it look like we’re still together, that everything’s fine”, he explained. “She thinks that if she just… keeps up the act, she can make it all go away. But it’s not going to work. I’ve made up my mind. I want out”.

You could hear the determination in his voice, and it reassured you in a way. Despite everything Danneel had done, despite the pressure she was trying to apply, Jensen was standing his ground. He was committed to moving forward, to building a new life—and that life included you.

You slowly lifted your gaze, searching his eyes with a mix of hesitation and concern. “Are you really sure about the divorce?”, you asked softly, your voice steady but filled with the weight of the question. You weren’t doubting his feelings for you; you just wanted to make sure he had fully thought through this decision.

Jensen met your gaze, his green eyes reflecting a mix of exhaustion, frustration, and unwavering resolve. He exhaled deeply, his hand gently stroking your arm in a soothing motion as he thought about how to answer.

“Yeah”, he said quietly but firmly, nodding as if reaffirming the decision in his mind. “I’ve thought about this for a long time… probably longer than I realized. I tried to hold on for the kids, for the sake of keeping everything stable. But there’s no love left between us—not the kind that a marriage needs to survive, anyway”.

You bit your lip, the uncertainty still lingering in your heart despite his reassurances. His words made sense, and you could see the conviction in his eyes, but there was still a small part of you that wondered where this left the two of you. Carefully, you asked, your voice soft but steady, "And what does that mean for us?".

Jensen's brow furrowed slightly, sensing the vulnerability in your question. He shifted, adjusting himself so that he could look at you more directly. His hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with yours as he squeezed gently.

"It means…", he began, his voice full of sincerity as he searched for the right words. "It means that I’m all in. With you. I’ve already made that decision in my heart, even if I’ve been stuck in this mess with Danneel for longer than I should have been. But what we have—it’s real. And I want to build something with you".

He paused, his gaze intense as he continued. "I know it’s not going to be easy. I know there are a lot of obstacles we still have to face. But I’m not going to let anything come between us. You’ve been patient with me, more than I deserve sometimes, and I don’t want to take that for granted".

Your heart softened at his words, and the knot of uncertainty that had been twisting inside you began to unravel. His honesty and the raw emotion in his voice reassured you in a way that nothing else could. He wasn’t just saying the words you wanted to hear—he truly meant them.

"I just…", you hesitated, unsure of how to express the swirling emotions inside you. "I don’t want to be the reason things fall apart for you, Jensen. I don’t want to be the one who causes more pain, especially when it comes to your kids. I want to be with you, but I’m scared of what that could mean for them".

Jensen’s eyes softened, and he leaned in closer, his hand cradling the side of your face as he looked at you with such tenderness that it made your heart ache. "You’re not the reason anything is falling apart", he said gently. "That’s been happening for a long time, even before you came into the picture. This isn’t your fault—it’s just the reality of a relationship that stopped working. And as for my kids… they’ll always come first. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t space for us too".

He paused, searching your eyes for understanding. "I love my kids, and I’ll always do what’s best for them. But I also want to be happy. And I know that being with you makes me happy. We’ll figure out the balance. It’s not going to be easy, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make this work".

Tears welled in your eyes, not out of sadness but out of relief. You reached up, placing your hand over his on your cheek, and leaned into his touch. "I just want you to be sure", you whispered. "Because I’m all in, too. I just needed to know that you are".

Jensen smiled softly, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped down your cheek. "I’m sure", he said with quiet certainty. "More sure than I’ve been about anything in a long time".

With that, he leaned in, pressing his lips gently to yours. The kiss was slow and tender, filled with all the emotion he couldn’t fully put into words. As you kissed him back, you felt the last of your doubts melt away, replaced by a sense of peace and reassurance.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

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Part 26

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Taglist: @cheynovak @chriszgirl92 @jenniferr0323 @angelbabyyy99 @cevansbaby-dove @muhahaha303 @jackles010378 @suckitands33 @n-o-p-e-never @mayafatimakhan @ladysparkles78 @viviandarkbloom06 @jassackles @evasmlp @acklesaddict67 @mostlymarvelgirl @emma1998sblog @mishaesque @headinthemoon87 @hobby27 @winchesterwild78 @impala67rollingthroughtown @manicjk @kr804573 @zaratahir @djs8891 @winchesterwild78 @jamerlynn @whimsyfinny @libby99hb @deansimpalababy @deans-queen @kawaii-arfid-memes @faephoria @stoneyggirl2 @fitxgrld @luvr4miya @yikeschoices @lyssalvus @soab1967 @luvr4miya @didi0666 @impala67rollingthroughtown @cheekygirl2309

[badbatchsprincess]

Heated ~ pt.5

Pt.1 ~ Pt.2 ~ Pt.3 ~ Pt.4 ~ Pt.5 ~ Pt.6 ~ Pt.7 ~ Pt.8 ~ Pt.9 ~ Pt.10 ~Pt.11 ~ Pt.12 ~ Pt.13 ~ Pt.14 ~ Pt.15 ~ Pt.16 ~ Pt.17 ~ Pt.18 ~ Pt.19 ~ Pt.20 ~ Pt.21 ~ Pt.22 ~ Pt.23 ~ Pt.24 ~ Pt.25

Masterlist

Summary: This is an ABO Bad batch!Poly x Omega Reader smut with a plot. This takes place as an AU before order 66. Y/N previously served under the 501st before being transferred to Special Forces 99. This is her adventure with these rowdy Alphas in a quickly changing universe.

THIS IS AN ABO AU ABOUT THE BAD BATCH (NO CANON OMEGA!) Due to the unfortunate situation of her name being Omega… Omega the child from the canon series is not going to be apart of this fanfic/porn with a plot. I feel obligated to put this warning in because it makes my skin crawl thinking anyone could make that mistake. 

Warnings: Skinny dipping, Wolffe's massive D, some minor agression/violence, possessive behaviors, general Crosshair assholery, Hunter's an idiot

Bruh we finally gonna get through this slow burn I promise. Bear with me. Anyways...get intoit I guess

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"Again… or Lula gets it." Crosshair aimed his pistol at the stuffed bunny sitting on top of one of the crates.

Both you and Wrecker screamed, demanding Lula’s immediate liberation, but he just fired a warning shot, barely missing her ear.

"Alright!" You screamed under duress. You turned back to Hunter, who was waiting for you to strike. "Kriffing dictator," you mumbled, making Hunter snort.

"Lock in, Pip," Hunter rasped. "One pin and you can go eat lunch."

You huffed, knowing this was going to be a challenge. The past week had been tough on all of you. You had been enlisted in joining the other medics in caring for the injured regs, which, after the first few days, you realized the campaign in liberating Kashyyyk from separatist and Trandoshan occupation was going to take much longer than anyone had anticipated. The problem seemed to be worse than the Jedi Council had thought.

The boys had become relentless in your training. The second you’d be off shift, they’d be lording your food overhead in exchange for a few hours of combat training. You complied, desperate for something to fill your belly. You noticed you were starting to get stronger, your body was getting a little more hardened, and you were starting to actually like it, though you’d never tell them that, or else they’d just keep you at it until you collapsed.

Your little training sessions even started to get the attention of the 104th boys. They’d gather in small groups, trying to watch you like a sporting event. You were confused at first, but Tech informed you they were staring because they’ve never seen an omega fight before. It was unnatural, to Crosshair's point.

But even the grumpy sniper came around; he realized being with them, a special forces group, put you in a uniquely vulnerable position compared to an average medic. (It definitely wasn’t because Hunter beat him over the head with the idea until he agreed.) That's when he started threatening Lula’s life to coerce you into playing their games.

"Get him, omega!" A couple of Wolf Pack boys barked from the trees. You were pretty sure they were the same clones you had treated that morning.

You glared at them and then dropped your fists, looking to Hunter with soft eyes, begging him to stop. He relaxed, recognizing you were uncomfortable, deciding to end your training early. The 104th boys groaned disappointed, making Hunter shrug. Even Crosshair sighed annoyingly, lowering his blaster.

When you were in close enough proximity to your unsuspecting Sergeant, you quickly snaked your boot out, just like he showed you, and flipped him to the ground. You saw a brief moment of surprise when he hit the moss-covered floor before his eyes focused in. Just when you were about to jump on top of him to make the pin, he rolled both of you and shoved you off.

You briefly heard the Wolf Pack cheering when you recovered and swung your leg out, taking him down to the ground again. This time you were ready and rolled into his side, grabbing his arm, wrenching it back. He curled in, wrapping his legs around your torso, trying to pry you off. Just when he nearly had you in a pin, you jabbed your two fingers into a nerve point in his thigh, making him yelp and release you. That gave you just enough time to slam your body on top of him and hold him for the pin.

"Damn," Wolffe crossed his arms, walking up to the two of you from the clearing, impressed with what he was seeing.

"Good job," Hunter stood up, helping you with him. "You’re getting better, Pip."

"Can I go eat now?" You asked pleadingly, hearing your stomach growl.

He just nodded and let you go. You smiled and ran off with Wrecker, starving for Echo’s cooking.

Wolffe stood there watching you disappear back into the Marauder with his good eye. "Why are you training her?"

Hunter crossed his arms. "She’s been in some tough situations. She doesn’t have the same protections she would have with the 501st when working with us."

Wolffe nodded. "I heard about the incident on Crait. General Plo is concerned with the implications."

Hunter nodded solemnly. It was still a bit of a sore topic if he was being honest. He prided himself on being a good Sergeant who cared deeply for his unit and tried his best to keep them safe even in the most dangerous scenarios.

"Have you heard anything else?" Wolffe asked.

Hunter just shook his head. "Nothing beyond what we experienced. Though I’m sure the council has it under control."

Wolffe just nodded and turned to look at the war camp in the distance. Campfires billowed in the distance while his men gathered, making their meals.

"So…" He noticed Hunter side-eye him. "She yours or what?"

Hunter narrowed his glare. "Commander?" He felt his heart rate increase and a possessive tightness in his chest.

"Did you mate her on Crait?" Wolffe pressed.

Hunter faced him square on.

"Y/N is her own person," Hunter corrected, trying to keep his calm despite his growing hatred for the scarred alpha in front of him. "Besides almost killing her, no, no one has laid a hand on her."

Wolffe just rolled his eyes. "You don’t have to pretend with me, Sergeant. No alpha can resist that."

Hunter bit his tongue, wanting nothing more than to punch that smug look off of Wolffe’s face. Hunter was all too aware of how you made the regs turn their heads when you graced them with your presence. He knew his men were guilty of it as well. Y/N was a perfect omega. Every alpha's scents seemed to spike in your presence; he was shocked you couldn’t smell it. They were all praying you’d give them a little attention or a gentle touch. It was driving him crazy.

"Relax," Wolffe looked at Hunter's flexing fists. "I won’t do anything to your little medic… unless she asks." His smile was devilish. Hunter watched the Commander return back to his men, who were getting rowdy in the field up ahead.

Hunter took a deep breath, trying to force his racing heartbeat to calm. Crosshair came prowling up behind him silently like a loth-cat. "What was that all about?"

Hunter grunted and looked at his brother. "He asked if she was my mate."

Crosshair put a new toothpick up to his lips. "He’s been after her since Coruscant." Crosshair’s tone was nonchalant. "He’ll lose interest eventually."

Hunter shook his head annoyed; he doubted that. He returned back to the Marauder with Crosshair for their lunch before Wrecker elected to eat their portions too.

Hunter was going to be keeping an eye on Wolffe from here on out… that was final.

It was about the fifth week into the battle of Kashyyyk when you noticed the change. The boys seemed to have altered their behavior around you drastically.

At first, it seemed harmless, just alphas being alphas. They’d walk at least five paces behind you everywhere, even when you’d be called into a shift in the triage tent. They’d wait outside, talking, until it was time for you to clock out and return back with them for more training.

Then it turned into something… different.

It first started with Crosshair when he had decided he wanted to teach you how to start shooting more long-range. He had arranged you how he liked on the ground around firepuncher. When he wasn’t happy with your grip, he knelt down next to you, keeping his hands on yours a little longer than usual. Then came your positioning. He suddenly decided he didn’t like that either, so he kneeled down, using his own knees to part your legs and push your left into a more bent position. You felt your face heat up as your ass pressed against his firm thighs. He acted like nothing was amiss, but you were struggling more than usual trying to hit the target in front of you.

Then there was Tech. He had asked for a bit of assistance when fiddling with some panels under the ship’s console. You laid down next to him, helping hold some wires while he soldered carefully, and instead of asking you to pass him the needle-nose pliers, he just reached over you, pressing you into the ground with his weight. You struggled to breathe calmly as his face nearly pressed into your neck while he reached for the tools. He had done this a few more times, making you absolutely squirm next to him.

Wrecker had been a little more needy the past few weeks, asking you to look at small cuts and bruises. You think it was just because you had always babied him a little more than the others, but now he was becoming insistent that you look at every single injury and giving you a pout if you denied him. You were suspecting he was causing these little injuries just to get your attention.

Lastly was Hunter. While he was a bit more discreet, he definitely didn’t miss an opportunity to brush up against you or place a hand on your back as he passed by. One particular night you had been bent over the bathroom sink rinsing toothpaste from your mouth when he suddenly needed to shimmy by you to grab his razor from the shower caddy. You had shot up, and he apologized with a tap to your hip before leaving with his things. You just stood there in shock, trying to figure out if you were just imagining things.

This morning, Tech accompanied you when you had to clock in for rotations at the medic’s tent. You gave him a little wave before disappearing through the canvas curtains. You walked up to the 104th medic in charge and handed him your charge card. He punched you into the system and let you go on your way.

"Hey Y/N!" Your new friend, Tanan, called out to you. He was an omega in the GAR civilian medic program too and he has been stationed with the 104th since the beginning of their campaign.

"Hi Tanan." You smiled, setting down your canteen and snack sack.

"Got a lot coming in today," he said, looking around at all of the regs lying in cots. He flipped back his blonde hair, trying to tie it behind his head to keep it out of his brown eyes.

"What happened?" You noticed all of their field bandages.

"Shrapnel," he replied, sanitizing his laser suture.

"Bomb?" You looked around at the charring on their armor, letting you know it was some kind of incendiary.

"Most likely," he said, handing you a pair of gloves. You grabbed a pair of sterile tweezers and walked up to the first trooper who was sitting on the edge of his cot.

"Hello, trooper," you smiled and softly approached him.

He looked at you with wide eyes. "Are you the medic?" he asked.

You nodded and knelt down next to him, setting your things next to him on the cot.

"Mhmm. I’m Y/N."

"I’m CT- 3678, but my vod call me Tack."

"Nice to meet you, Tack." You reached out, tilting his face to the side. There was a tattoo running along the side of his neck all the way under the collar of his blacks.

"What happened?" You asked, picking up the tweezers and starting to pluck little shards of metal out of his cheek.

"Clankers set off a big one," he said, looking up at you, "never seen something like that before."

"It was guerrilla Trandoshan made," a clone behind Tack chimed in.

You just scrunched your nose disapprovingly and concentrated on your work. The alpha in front of you relaxed the more you plucked from him. You were certain it was uncomfortable. A lot of shrapnel patients have been coming in the past few days, but today seemed to be the worst. The metal was strange, shimmering green, nothing like you’d ever seen before.

"I don’t recognize your clothes," Tack said, looking at your green pants, "Are you GAR?"

"Oh yeah," you smiled, "My uniform got messed up a few weeks ago after the first wave so I had to resort to the civvies." The white GAR uniform didn’t stand a chance out here on the front lines. Instead, you opted for your darks and your identifying badge.

"Ahh," he said, nodding.

"I’m not usually out of base for this long so I wasn’t really prepared."

"You’re not with the 104th?" He asked. He must be a shiny.

"No." You tilted his head back and forth, looking for any missed pieces, "I’m with the 99’s."

"The 99’s?" The other clone asked from over Tack’s shoulder, "The commandos?"

You nodded. "Alright, I think I got it all. Let me get some bacta, and you’ll be cleared." You grabbed an applicator and began dotting it over the cuts.

"Wait, are you the omega Commander’s always talking about?"

"What?" You looked at the other clone, giving Tack a tap on the shoulder, letting him stand.

"Yeah, he’s always going on about the omega running with the 99’s!" He smiled, "Told us about the attack on Crait."

You paled. In the background, a clone trooper screamed in pain, making you focus back on your work.

"What’s your name?" You asked, moving on to him, grabbing your scanner.

"Grim."

"I’m Y/N, and yeah, I guess I’m that omega." You shook your head and started scanning the clone. You noticed the way he clutched his arm, and your scans confirmed it was dislocated.

"Sweet." He looked at you with playful eyes. You raised a brow at him, "You got something to say, trooper?"

He smiled, "Commander said you were pretty…"

You took his arm and looked him in the eyes before aggressively resetting the limb. He let out a pained gasp, not expecting you to do that so suddenly and mercilessly.

"He was right." He gritted out, clutching the arm.

"What’s your position?" You asked, walking over to the supply bin to get a fresh sling. You ripped open the plastic baggie and walked back over to him.

"Sniper," he groused, starting to feel the dull pain in his shoulder.

You laughed, "Oh, you’d like one of my alphas then…"

He quirked a brow, "One of?”

You felt your cheeks redden. "Sorry, they're pack. I meant, we have an enhanced sniper. His name is Crosshair. He hates everyone though... except firepuncher."

Grim chuckled. "Oh yes, my little lady is my favorite girl as well." He gestured to the rifle leaned up against his cot. You just smiled and sent him on his way.

What is it with snipers and their guns?

The day continued like this. Tech only came to bother you when Echo had lunch ready, but by the time the sun was setting, you were exhausted and covered in blood and various gross fluids. With a sigh, you cracked your back and stretched your arms, eager to eat some chow and get to bed, but first, you wanted to wash up.

The Marauder’s water supply had been recycled too many times to be considered usable, so your squad had resorted to hiking down to the river to wash up and do laundry. You had begged Tech to fly the Marauder closer to the lake to drain the reserves and refill with fresh water, but he didn’t want to waste any fuel before they could return to Coruscant. You pouted but knew he was right in the end.

"Ready?" Crosshair asked, meeting you outside the medic center.

You just nodded and followed after him as he walked you through the camp. You passed groups of men you’d "kind of" come to know over the past few weeks, along with Wookiee leaders and warriors. Once you passed through the camp, the hike back to the Marauder was mostly in the dark. All you could see was the campfire in the distance, with Echo tending to whatever meat Wrecker and Hunter had tracked down that day.

"I’m going to wash up first." You gestured to your ruined outfit. He just nodded and detoured to the fire while you rifled through your things, looking for the soap packets and a fresh pair of clothes.

"I’ll be back!" You called out to the boys before starting your trek through the darkening woods. Passing all the familiar trail markers, you could hear the river rushing up ahead. You grabbed your little solar lantern and flicked it on, setting it down on your favorite rock. Looking around to make sure the coast was clear, you began stripping down to nothing, throwing your dirty clothes in the wash basket you had woven with Tech’s instruction on the second week on Kashyyyk.

You took a deep breath before toeing into the freezing cold water. You let out a little squeal as you sank in, fully submerging yourself in the lazy water. This was the moment where you always began to miss the heated showers on the Marauder. The water was chilling, it made your muscles start to lock up if you took too long.

Moving quickly, you reached up to the rock, grabbing a packet of hair wash and tearing open the brown paper, pouring the contents into your hand. You rubbed your hands together, causing the powder to rehydrate, and then you lathered it everywhere. Scrubbing your scalp aggressively, you were determined to get every little bit of sweat and blood out of your locks. Once satisfied, you sunk under the water, letting the current rinse out the suds.

When you resurfaced, you heard the telltale sound of someone approaching through the woods. You lowered yourself below the currents and silently huddled closer to the rock, feeling your heart start to race.

"Nah, Corporal said tomorrow we have a new mission objective—" One of the men said. You peeked around from your hiding spot to see a trooper chucking his shirt over his head and throwing it onto a rock, reaching down for his waistband.

You bit your lip and moved back around the rock, determined to finish up and get out without being seen. You reached up and turned off your lantern and grabbed your body detergent. You quickly got to work, taking your scrub brush to your nails, trying to get as much crusted blood out of them while the men bathed, unaware of your presence.

You heard them continue to talk about Corporal Comet as they stripped down and jumped into the water, yelling and making all types of noise.

It was time to scrub your dirtied clothes after giving them some time to soak. You reached around the rock, grabbing the loose weave basket and bringing it in front of you. In the process, you knocked over a round rock, hearing it plonk into the river.

"Hey! What was that?" One of the men said, and your heart jumped.

"Kriff," you whispered, throwing your unwashed clothes up onto the shore and crawled out, grabbing your towel. You quickly wrapped it around you and squatted down to finish your washing. You heard them coming and knew you had no other option but to just stay there and pretend like you didn’t hear them.

"Warthog, is that you?" You heard one of them yell.

"Tryna cop a peek?" They laughed from over the stones.

"You're a freak," one of them chastised.

You just tucked the towel a little tighter around yourself as one of them climbed around one rock, stopping in their tracks.

"Oh shit!" He immediately realized his mistake. "S-sorry…"

"What are you looking at, trooper?..."

Then you were met with one grey, scarred eye that made your throat instantly tighten up.

Up above, Wolffe and one of his troopers stared down at you in all their naked glory. You coughed and quickly shot your eyes upward, trying to avoid looking at their bodies. Clone standards apparently didn’t apply to the Commander. He was well-endowed, and you instantly felt your face redden at the realization.

Only the trooper had the humility to be self-conscious, covering himself and shrinking back down the rock and into the water. Meanwhile, the commander in front of you didn’t seem phased in the slightest; he carried himself with so much confidence standing there.

He let out a low whistle. "Sorry, mesh’la," he smirked. "Didn’t know you were over here."

"I’m just finishing up," you fidgeted, tightening your towel and praying for him to go back to his washing.

"No need to rush on our account," he flashed you a charming smile, showing off his white teeth as he folded his arms across his broad, muscular chest, puffing out slightly. He had a couple of scars littering his pecs along with a wolf tattoo on his ribs. He was clearly enjoying your mortification.

"I, uh... I…" You went to step back, but a loose rock wobbled under your bare foot, causing you to lose your balance. Wolffe reached forward to catch you, but when he grabbed your arm, you both went tumbling into the water. You screamed as you were totally submerged in the freezing water; all you heard was his disgruntled grunt before being swept under.

The undercurrents suddenly made it difficult to surface as you felt yourself being dragged downstream, ripping your towel from your body as you passed over bedrocks. You paddled weakly, but you weren’t a skilled swimmer, and the water was much stronger this far out.

You suddenly felt a warm arm wrap around your midsection, and the force of the water as Wolffe dragged you up to the surface, clutching you close to his front. You pawed wildly at the water, sputtering and coughing like a drowned tooka as he swam with the two of you.

"I got you," he said, finding his footing and lifting the two of you into the shallows again. "Relax!"

You went limp under his arm, letting him rescue the two of you. His broad hand wrapped securely around your rib cage, holding you firm against his large body as he trudged closer to shore. When he finally could keep the two of your heads above water, you tried wriggling free again, suddenly hyper-aware of your nakedness.

"Omega. Stop," he growled, trying to keep his grip. He leaned forward, grabbing onto a smooth rock and hauling you out of the path of the currents. You panted, trying to calm your racing heart. You weren’t sure if it was from the fear of drowning or the fact that Wolffe’s deliciously strong and warm naked body was pleasantly pressed against your back right now. You wanted to rub yourself further into him; your entire body was freezing except for the warmth radiating off of him, it was sinful.

"Wolffe," you cleared your throat, coughing up the last of the water.

He slowly let go of you, keeping you on the shallower side of the riverbank. You wrapped your arms around your chest, covering yourself before turning to face him. "Thanks," you sighed, shoving your soaked hair back out of your eyes and letting yourself catch your panicked breath.

"Any time, mesh’la," he said, fighting to catch his breath, letting his chest heave. "Your boys always keeping you out of trouble, huh?"

You laughed quietly, starting to shiver. "Pretty much."

"Come here," he said, offering you his hand. You hesitantly took it and let him pull you into him so he could warm you. Keeping one hand sturdy on the rock, he used the other to hold you close and warm your chilled skin. You shuddered, pressing further into his plush chest. His scent was delicious, spiced and salty. You couldn’t help but take a deep breath in, letting it dance along your scent receptors; your omega was thrilled.

"Can you swim?" he asked softly.

You shook your head. "I was born and raised on Coruscant. I’ve never swum before or even really seen so much water before." You remembered what Rex had told you about Tapoca City and how the entire civilization was surrounded by water. The clones probably had plenty of swimming experience.

"Cyra’ika, you gotta be more careful," he shook his head, rubbing your back soothingly.

"I know," you agreed. "I didn’t really anticipate this happening." You felt his rough hands rub slow circles into your back, and you sighed, finally starting to warm up again.

“I lost my towel,” you groaned, realizing you had absolutely nothing to dry yourself off with or keep you covered in any way.

“I’ll get you mine,” he said, standing up straight and looking over your shoulder. “Stay here.”

You nodded and sat down on the smooth rock, keeping your chest covered as he crawled out of the river and began walking back to where his men were.

“What the fuck?” you whispered to yourself, shaking your head. Echo’s going to eat this up, you already knew.

Wolffe returned quickly, sporting a pair of black briefs when he handed you his towel. You took it from him, keeping your back turned as you wrapped yourself in it. It smelled like him, warmed spice, and you fought back a little purr bubbling up in your chest.

“Here,” he handed you his hand again. “Let’s get you back.”

To your pack. You hesitated, making him furrow his brow. You took his hand, but you knew this was going to cause a ruckus. He helped pull you up the slippery rock as you used the other hand to hold his towel closed, trying to keep a shred of your dignity together.

You could already hear the lecture Hunter was going to give you. Spending time alone with the Commander, nonetheless naked. Ugh. You should have told Wolffe to let you drown. But the view as the Commander’s tight ass was certainly was making it worth it. His back was rippled with muscles along with his sturdy thighs. You wanted to lean forward and sink your teeth into him. You had to take a deep breath before things got out of control and he noticed arousal scenting from you.

When Wolffe finally got you back to where you had left your things, you quickly realized, in your fall, the splash had soaked your clothes too.

“Kriff,” you bent down, holding up your little sleep t-shirt. The grey fabric was soaked through along with your fresh panties and sleep pants.

Wolffe just snickered and turned his back, letting you change in peace. Well, at least he’s honorable, you thought to yourself when you brought the soggy shirt over your head. You slid your panties up, cringing at the coldness, and then finally the sleep pants.

“This is awful,” you mumbled, picking up your other things. Wolffe laughed and left to get changed too, yelling something to his unit about returning to camp. They hollered at him when he returned to find you standing there with your wet laundry and dirty clothes in hand.

He took the lantern and let you lead the way through the now-dark forest. When you started to smell whatever food Echo had doctored up, your stomach growled, desperate for a hot meal.

“You should go,” you turned to take the solar lantern in your hands.

“Why?” he smirked. “Afraid your pack won’t approve?”

“I know they won’t,” you jested. “They’re protective.”

He gave an amused huff. “Well, thanks for the thrill, omega,” he smiled, turning on his heel back towards the river, giving you a good view of that ass.

“My name is Y/N!” you called after him.

“I know,” he winked at you.

You bit your lip, watching him fully disappear into the darkness before you trudged the last trail back to the Marauder. Your head was spinning. You thanked the maker you had your suppressor implant; without it, you knew you’d be acting like a pathetic horny teenager. Being rescued by a hot, rugged alpha had to be top-tier omega fantasy material. You giggled, laughing at the absurdity of the situation. You bit your lip thinking about how solid he felt against your back and wondered how solid other parts of him were too…

When you rounded the corner of the Marauder, you found your pack carrying on with their little evening tasks.

“Y/N, you’re back,” Tech acknowledged you before squinting his eyes, scrutinizing your attire. “Why are you wet?”

You looked down, realizing how pathetic you looked. “I, uh… I fell into the currents and almost drowned,” Wrecker spun around, looking at you in shock.

“Are you okay?” he asked, standing up and putting his dinner bowl down. Hunter looked at you from his bowl too. You thought it was strange he didn’t immediately ask as well. He looked almost… angry?

“Yeah, I’m just cold,” you set your things down and wrung out your hair, shivering.

Crosshair suddenly appeared from the darkness of the direction of the 104th war camp. You didn’t even notice him walk up on you.

One second you were standing next to the fire, and the next you were being thrown up against the side of the Marauder with Crosshair's arm being shoved across your chest with a rough thud. You yelped when your back connected with the hard durasteel.

“Crosshair!” Wrecker yelled in shock. “What the fuck?”

You looked at him wildly, wondering what the hell had gotten into him. He gave you a nasty look. “I can smell him from their camp,” he snarled, pushing you a little harder with a deep, menacing growl.

You let out a pained whine as he pushed you harder against the ship. You desperately looked to Hunter to intervene, but he just sat there, fisting his spork.

Crosshair bared his teeth at you. “You fuck him, huh Y/N? That kriffing reg!”

Feeling yourself panic, your instincts took over, and you bared your neck to him in submission, praying it would appease him. “Alpha, please… it hurts.” Your voice was pathetic, but you’d never had any of your packmates ever corner you like this. It was terrifying.

He snapped down to you slightly, letting up on you just a little. The use of his designation seemed to soften him slightly.

Then in a flash, a blur of dark grey came from the left, and Crosshair was suddenly thrown from your chest. You collapsed down to your knees, clutching your damp chest, heaving. When you looked over to the right, you saw Wolffe and Crosshair throwing punches at one another in a flurry on the ground.

You let out a horrified scream that echoed throughout the forest, causing Hunter to wince.

“Get your fucking hands off of her,” Wolffe landed a particularly hard punch to Crosshair’s jaw. “She’s your pack!”

Crosshair returned his fist in kind to his solar plexus, making the Commander lunge forward and throw the sniper into the side of the ship just next to you. You cried out and ran towards Wrecker for safety while the two Alphas got into it. The big clone wrapped his arms around you protectively, keeping you out of the way of harm and swinging fists.

“Keep your fucking hands off her, reg!” Crosshair growled.

“What the hell is going on up here?” A few regs from the camp started making their way over, hearing the commotion. Hunter put his bowl down and walked over to the two fighting and grabbed Wolffe by the shirt, wrenching him up off of his brother.

You took a breath, thinking Hunter was going to break up the fight. Instead, you watched your Sergeant wind his fist back and throw a sharp punch to Wolffe’s cheek. It connected with a snap, and you were certain you saw blood.

Then it was madness. Wolffe’s men jumped into the fight, forcing Echo and Tech to run in as backup, their brothers. It was nothing but a whirlwind of fists and boots and raging alphas. The other regs and some Wookiees stood on the sides, yelling at the brawl.

“Stop, please!” You screamed and begged, feeling the tears slide down your cheeks. “Alpha, please!”

No one was listening. The fight only seemed to get more violent. You cried and turned back to Wrecker, refusing to watch the brutality. He just maneuvered you two out of the way and kept his hand on the back of your wet head, trying to console you, even though it was killing him he couldn’t leave to help his brothers.

“Alright, enough!” A booming voice shook the camp. Master Plo stood before the group, using a deep commanding voice and the force.

The fighting seized immediately. The regs froze in place, fists raised and bloody. Wolffe threw Crosshair off of him, and he walked over to you, raising your chin to make sure your alpha hadn’t hurt you ignoring Wrecker’s warning glare.

The general crossed his arms, looking at the absolute disaster his commander was directly involved in. Then he looked to you and extended an arm in your direction. “Are you alright, little Y/N? Are you hurt?” He used the same tone he had used with Ahsoka when they were together. Plo’s fatherly concern made you cry more.

You shook your head. “I’m alright, General,” the tears still poured down your face. Wrecker gave your back a little rub.

Plo nodded and looked back to the panting alphas.

“Back to your bunks,” he ordered, forcing all of the regs to leave, wiping the blood from their lips.

That left you with the general, Wrecker, and Wolffe.

Wolffe just looked at you, despite the blood dripping from his brow and chin. His eyes were searching for something.

“This ends now,” General Plo pointed down towards the ground with emphasis. “We have a war to focus on.”

“Yes, General,” they all replied, including your unit.

When Plo Koon turned on his heel and stalked back to camp, you felt Wolffe’s hand press up against your arm. “There’s always room for you with us,” he looked over his shoulder. “If you want.” He was giving you an out.

The alpha was making an official offer to adopt you into his pack. Your heart started beating fast the longer you gazed up into his eyes. It was a big offer. Clearly, Wolffe didn’t trust the others to play nice.

Crosshair had to put a hand on Hunter’s shoulder before the Sergeant started another fight. Seeing his hands on you was making him feral.

You just nodded and thanked him for saving you one last time before watching him follow his General through the dark grass. When you turned back to the others, your face turned into a snarl. You couldn’t even speak to them. You shoved Wrecker’s hands off of you and you marched up the stairs of the ship before locking yourself in your bunk.

~~~

You kept your back turned on Tech when he finally returned to the bunks. He was smart not to say anything, tasting your anger in the air. When you finally heard all of them settle in for the night and their grumbling hushed down, you got up to confirm your theory and stepped out into the galley. All of their doors were closed, and you walked down to Wrecker’s bunk, hitting the access panel to let the door slide open.

He lifted his head, staring at your form in the doorway.

“Pip?” he asked, squinting his eyes to see you in the dark. “What are you doing?”

“Can I stay with you?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“Uh, yeah. Sure!” He tried his best to shimmy over to give you what little room he could on his comically small bunk.

You lifted the blanket and slid in next to him, letting out an angry huff. He didn’t ask because he already knew what was wrong. He just let you maneuver however you wanted before you settled into his side. He clutched Lula to his chest and let out a big yawn before quickly falling into a deep sleep. You only wished you could fall asleep as easily as Wrecker; the giant snoozed peacefully while you lay awake.

You breathed in his comforting scent and stared at his door, knowing Hunter was just across the hall, probably nursing his wounds. Good, you thought. He should be hurting for letting Crosshair do what he did.

You were seething.

He let Crosshair manhandle you like a fucking animal without even intervening. He just sat there, looking pissed behind his stupid bowl of rations. He probably had heard you and Wolffe and that's why he didn’t step in… stupid territorial fuck head alphas. 

Even Tech, sweet Tech, of all the brothers you thought would come to your aid… nope. He just sat there watching it unfold.

You’re giving Echo a hall pass because he was busy making the food and definitely didn’t have enough time to react before Wolffe stepped in. Plus, you knew you’d need someone to talk to.

You shivered, thinking about that murderous look in the commander’s eyes. He must have heard from the woods and came running to your aid. Twice in one night, the alpha came to your rescue.

Then he offered you a place in his pack… You rubbed your exhausted eyes, rolling over onto your back. Wrecker grumbled something in his sleep before reaching an arm over and wrapping it around your middle, snuggling you closer like you were Lula. You decided this was a problem for tomorrow, but right now you wanted to go to sleep. The day had finally caught up to you, and you felt yourself slipping.

You relaxed into Wrecker’s warmth and let sleep take you.

~~~

“It’s been a week,” Hunter grizzled, watching you leave for your morning shift. Echo was the only one you’d allow to accompany you on your little journeys into the growing war camp. Other than that, you haven’t even looked at your unit, letting them stew in your silence.

Tech shifted uncomfortably, “I believe she’s waiting for us to apologize.”

Crosshair grunted, “For what?”

“Well, you did force her to submit under your threatening behavior,” Tech looked to his little brother, “Most omegas don’t take too kindly to that.”

“What do you know about omegas?” Crosshair narrowed his eyes.

Tech just bristled and continued staring at the breakfast grains.

“She can’t keep this up much longer,” Hunter sighed.

“I hate it!” Wrecker sobbed, “You better say you're sorry!” Wrecker missed you. You hadn’t been talking to anyone, and that included him. He just watched you in silence when you came back to the ship to sleep and change your clothes. He tried so many times to bribe you into giving him attention, but you just smiled and nodded instead.

“She’s most likely going to take up Wolffe’s offer if either of you don’t say something,” Tech looked at Hunter, who just soured over his breakfast, “I’m seldomly wrong.”

“He can have her if she prefers those regs,” Crosshair snapped.

Wrecker just groaned and threw his head back dramatically.

“Fine,” Hunter stood up, “I’ll go and apologize. Hopefully, she’s willing to listen.”

“A little groveling may be beneficial,” Tech pushed his goggles up his nose, “and she usually enjoys being fed snacks. That may be a good bribe.”

Hunter brushed off his pants and began his walk into camp, “Thanks for the recommendation.” Hunter felt like ripping out his own nails might be more pleasurable than facing the brewing wrath of his tiny little medic.

Hunter was approaching the ridge when he heard a strange buzzing. Looking around, he didn’t see anything but instead grabbed his com, “Hey, does anyone else hear that?”

“Negative, Sarge,” Wrecker responded.

Hunter then looked to his left and noticed a formation of strange-looking LAAT/c ships approaching. They slowed on approach to the camp, and Hunter noticed that they were empty inside. Where were the infantry? He reached for his scopes to get a better look.

Then something unexpected happened. The gunships halted their advance, and Hunter noticed multiple battle droids appear inside the main cabins.

“Oh shit,” he started running towards the camp, “Battle droids on approach!” He yelled into the com, hoping anyone would hear him, “Commander Wolffe come in!”

Then the camp suddenly turned into madness. The battle droids pushed out red-looking torpedoes from the side openings, watching them plummet directly into the war camp below. With a massive explosion, plumes of crimson powder billowed over the entire camp like a fog. Hunter froze in place, staring in horror as the smoke began to spread rapidly among the 104th.

“Oh no,” Tech caught up to Hunter, coming to the same halt, “Is that-”

Hunter’s attention immediately went to the triage center, “Y/N…”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Dunndundun...

Next chapter gonna be a doozie... sryntsry the slow burn's turning into a wild fire next update.

Taglist: @substantial-exposure @rains-on-kamino @minimissmoo

[danmei-confessions]

Hey hey! New here in SVSSS and still looking for new JiuYuan food came to tumblr for JiuYuan but I hope you allow me to defend my ship's other half blorbo. Twisting the story to hate on Shen Yuan or diminish all he has done and what he has become to the other characters is not the way to go. Maybe because I am a JiuYuan Shipper so I will defend both but for now this is mostly about SY.

There are what ifs that we can think that SJ could have done to get a happy ending for him and the world he is in but we don't need what ifs for the good ending that SY already gave SVSSS despite nobody knowing his real name and his own sufferings because the system won't allow him to talk.

SVSSS is a horror story FOR SY's situation at first because he knows what is supposed to happen in PIDW. He died, is brought to another world to be FORCED to do the crimes of someone else and pay for it. The system plays it off as a game and has no care for what SY feels. "Fail to do it and die, succeed to do it and you get years of torture. YAY! Immersion!" Imagine getting transmigrated to the Saw movie before the torture happens and you know if you do this bad thing, it will lead to the torture ending for your character. You would be stupid to do it, not to mention you are not a bad guy so just thinking of doing that bad thing makes you sick. But system is there watching your every move. You decide you would rather die instead because wtf your choices are only die or be tortured. But system gives you hope that with enough points, you don't need to do the bad thing anymore. But then after years the system tells you, actually this one bad thing is canon event so you still need to do it which will lead to the torture ending.

Unless you're a scum, the thought of hurting a puppy and let wolves bully it until it bleeds will torment your mind. Now imagine you are FORCED to do it because it's part of the story. Even though SY thinks that the characters are just fictional, he still cannot do it and would sneakily find ways around the system's rules to save LBH. The moment he is free of the restrictions, he is his own. That's not SJ anymore That's all SY. ALL the peak lords notice that he is not acting as SJ. He has the face of SJ but he is is far from acting like SJ. He is acting as what he thinks a respectable immortal master should be. But as time flows by and as he grows closer to the others, he is acting as SY. Read the extras, he actually loves to gossip with other peak lords. He is playful with LQG. He starts to shed his immortal, aloof façade when he got together with LBH. They're literally playing and flirting inside the bamboo house and outside when no one is looking. Sure SY is a PIDW critic online but how you are online is vastly different from how you are in real life. He is like a person who is first closed off and likes to act cool but starts to unravel the closer you are to them (and actually matches your freak). I would say even the fan gestures are part of his old life. The moment he opened his eyes, he reached for a fan. That is SY.

SY is an unreliable narrator of the people around him because that's what Airplane has written in the book. That's what SY thinks because that's what Airplane wants his readers to know. SY does not know about SJ and YQY's past and even LBH's parents because airplane did not add it on the PIDW. Once he found out what happened to SJ, he understood SJ but he also knows that whatever happened in the past does not allow you to abuse children that you have chosen as your disciple and is supposed to be under your guidance. (My JiuYuan headcannon screams only SY understands him. This is only headcannon do not attack my ship please I promise I will focus on SY here)

SY is also an unreliable narrator about himself because his psychological defense mechanism is compartmentalization. He is literally downplaying all that is happening to him so that he will not break down. He even downplays all the good things he has done. MXTX is so great at this that readers missed the parts where SY actually is suffering because he makes jokes of it. SY doesn't allow himself to dwell on the memories of his loving family and the world he was taken from. SY is showing signs of depression when he pushed LBH into the abyss but in SY's mind he is saying he is not depressed. SY cried when LBH snapped at him in the Holy Mausoleum but his mind played it off as being tears of pain because of his leg. SY said that LBH began to like him because of a single smile but LBH actually only forgave him when he risked his life to save LBH and asked nothing in return. LBH and SY first time in Mai Gu Ridge is so painful and he is going through it alone because LBH is in Xinmo's control and out of his mind but SY still plans to make a joke about it to binghe until SY coughed up blood and did his best to comfort Binghe when the other regrets his actions.

SY keeps saying that he's just doing things to save his life but his actions shows more than that. He became genuine friends with the Peak Lords. He went to CQM when he heard that LBH was attacking. Also he initially saved LQG's life so he can use him to fight LBH and SY can escape in the future, but he compromised his disguise and steps in when LBH and LQG was actually fighting in CQM to stop them. Instead of using the characters as his shield to escape LBH, he uses himself as a shield so others can be saved from LBH even though his greatest fear is being tortured by LBH.

The take that LBH is infatuated/in love with SJ and SQQ body only and will not love SY as he is if there is a reveal is the most weird take I find and undervalues MXTX writing. LBH is not infatuated with SJ and his body. LBH as a child sees him as a teacher but is not in love with him unlike with SY. Like most case of child abuse, LBH is a kid who thinks he has nowhere else to go to and so stays with his family despite being abused. We like to joke that LBH is a shizun fucker but he only became a shizun fucker because he experienced SY's love. Throughout the story, it shows LBH is not in love with just the body. He might think SJ is pretty but he is not in love. This is the same as bingge liking all pretty women but then discarding them to the harem afterwards to be forgotten.

LBH is in love with SY. The love and care he felt is from SY. His kind shizun is SY. The body is just a way for LBH to connect with SY. Afterwards, even without a body, it is SY that he loves. Again, all the peak lords noticed he is not acting as SJ. The desciples has also changed so it can be said that they noticed this change too. This is SY!SQQ that they came to love. The plant body is also proof that SY is loved. LBH preserved SQQ body for years hoping that his shizun will come back. When he pieced together that the plant body (that looks like SY real face and his real voice) is his shizun, he made sure to capture SY first before going after SQQ body at CQM. He even said he went to CQM to “stall you out,” indirectly talking to SY. This also shows how scary binghe is because he knows that SY has arrived and is hiding. Once he got SY, that's the time he went for SQQ body and his reason was that if SY ever tried to escape to the other body (LBH is so smart because this actually happens) then LBH will be lost again. LBH talks about the bodies as if they are only containers for SY's soul.

Luo Binghe spoke first. “Are the meridians of that body working well?”

“That’s good. I preserved the other body for a few days, but it still withered in the end. That doesn’t bode well if anything goes wrong with this one.”

Basically he wants both bodies to ensure that SY is trapped with him no matter what body he tries to use because he doesn't believe SY will not leave him again (He mockingly tells him "Ive believed shizun plenty of times" when SY tells him he wont run away). Again, the body is just a way for LBH to connect with his shizun that he loves and that shizun is SY. When ZZL summons SY soul to SQQ body, LBH also tried his best to save the plant body until it withered.

There is also the factor that LBH and SY are soulmates and this extends to LBG. LBG is not in love with SJ. He is filled with hate and enacted vengeance for being abused since he was a child and then thrown to hell. LBG was even smiling sinisterly when SJ was so broken that YQY died. There is no infatuation or love there. LBG doesn't think anything of SQQ at first until he dived in and saw SY!SQQ memories starting from the skinner demon until the Mai Gu Ridge in one night and all that SY did for his Binghe. It might just be one night, but the events are what happened for years that SY had a headache when he woke up. Afterwards is the only time when LBG thought of SQQ as pretty. Basically LBG is not in love with SJ but rather fell for this other SQQ because of SY and how SY!SQQ loved his Binghe. The type of love that not even his wives can give him. I can explain this but I only want to focus on SY now. If there is a SY reveal, it will be the same, the question will be the same "why did this person get a kind shizun while I got the rotten one", the only difference is there will be no disgust in LBG's side and LBG will probably make an effort and try his best to take SY back to his world since he has no animosity towards SY and because he knows there is no SY in his world.

Also, I'm pretty sure LBH already knows or he has an idea just no way to prove it. He's already giving hints about things that SQQ should not even know. Also look at this line:

"Every time Luo Binghe caught Shen Qingqiu before, he had stared at him like he was trying to stare through him"

Bingge will follow soon after because the sun and dew mushroom body was used by one of his enemies so he knows how that works and that the mushroom body will look like the face of whoever's soul is using it. Looking into SY!SQQ memories and seeing that his face changed when he transferred to the mushroom body is a big clue for LBG to digest and with how smart he is, he WILL know the truth.

Bingmei will love SY if there is a reveal. He will love him even more if that is even possible. LBH: "Shizun actually never hated this disciple and never wanted to push him in the abyss?" LBH: "Shizun loved this disciple before coming to this world?" He will gloat that he won before the battle even begun. Then chug vinegar when he finds out it is bingge who is loved first. There is no reveal because LBH will be more insufferable and so MXTX saved SY from such fate. LQG will not go "You mean it is not SJ who saved me? You are a Traitor!" LQG despite not liking SQQ mellowed out when SY!SQQ saved him. It will make no difference if he finds out it was SY who saved him, has been with him and has saved CQM. The only sad part will be YQY but that is about SJ's side and again for this I will focus on SY.

I have to say SQQ role or body is not important. He can be Ming Fan, NYY, a random disciple, another peak lord, and do all the things he has done and perhaps more effectively without the system hindering him to act as a villain and it will be the same as SVSSS. Save LQG in the caves-> LQG is now his friend. Continue to be a fanatic of LBH and believing in his skills and also trying to save him from abuse-> LBH finds a friend who truly cares and after some time falls in love. There will be somethings that will be different like NYY. Because NYY under SJ is an airhead that gets herself into trouble that bingge needs to save time and time again, compared to NYY that blossomed under SY!SQQ guidance with a strong mind, attitude and love and respect for SQQ that shocked even bingge.

I've read that the disciples are a downgrade under SY because SQH called the disciples students with ADHD. SY is actually a good Shizun. NYY is proof of this. Ming fan is proof of this. SQH the author literally states that the disciples under SJ back then were posers with face full of bitterness and great resentment compared to the disciples that literally flock towards SY!SQQ in excitement whenever he returns to the peak. SQH called them ADHD students because they are lively! The disciples sit around grouped together talking to each other as friends and no one is left out. And there is nothing wrong about ADHD students either, they are wonderful if you just give enough time and patience to understand how their minds work and what best way you can get their attention to learn. The fact that the disciples are happier and better versions than that of PIDW is already proof that SY did make a huge effort and is a good shizun to his students.

In the end, SY played with the cards he is given and although the cards are not good, he still did his best. System tells him "do this or die, but if you also do this thing that I said you get to become a human stick and suffer for years! Ehe (^-^)" and SY instead tells the system to Fk off and saves himself, LBH, and in extent, the women from joining in LBH's harem, and the world from turning into PIDW which is seriously a bad end for everyone even the protagonist. SY saw people as fictional characters at the start because the system is treating the world (and him) as a game. He gets points for doing this, gets deducted points for doing that. But in the end he learns and accepts that everyone is real and that even though the book already closed in PIDW, the story continues for everyone in their world. From a horror story that is PIDW, it is now a hopeful story that is SVSSS.

So yeah. Imagine knowing that Shrek must go to the castle to save Fiona to marry her in the future but Shrek falls for your transmigrated number one shrek fanboy soul in Lord Farquaad's body instead. All this time you are acting kind and caring for Shrek because Shrek is love Shrek is life and also to save your ass. You are blindsided. While acting as his a wingman for your OTP Shriona, Shrek was actually making a move on you. "No way Shrek is gay and into midgets? And loves to play as house wife?! TF?!" But in the end you accept that your feelings has also changed and that the quote Shrek is love Shrek is life is literal not metaphorical. Fans speculating that Lord Farquaad is the first human to actually show Shrek respect by making him one of his knights (because he wants him to go to a dragon guarding castle where countless knights died) so Shrek has always been infatuated with Lord Farquaad and the moment you reveal that you are not a midget, Shrek will have a meltdown and won't care about you anymore. You save the mama bear because you know she dead in the movie but now she acts as your savior from the big bad ogre who they think has grown obsessive of you and the bear's whole family is also indebted to you. The baby bear ships Shrequaad so hard he wrote a fanfic that became popular throughout the lands. Fiona learns she needs no man, defeats and rides the dragon and is now dubbed as "Mother of Dragons" while you scream in your head "Director WTF?! Plagiarism?! Games of thrones?!" You found out Puss n boots is actually the author transmigrated, he is scared of Death because death will kill him someday but because of some changed events Death follows him because he loves him. It's far from the original plot but everyone is happy.

.

[paddysol]

unstable universe is unstabling my universe p1

Everyone say thank you Pluto for encouraging my insanity! Please note I'm solely discussing Wemmbu’s character (and PrinceZam somewhat) in Unstable Universe from a lore standpoint. (This will be a mix of my own hc and how Ive perceived the events on the server- also i've literally only watched Wemmbu and am doing this from memory so bear with me)

God I have so many thoughts on UU!Wemmbu (and Mutiny Duo) dear lord. Like, the necessity of constantly being forced to put up a front due to the hunger games-esque environment of the server, the paranoia that has you looking over your shoulder, presenting yourself as a threat, making sure that you can back that statement as much as you can because if you’re seen as weak then you’re might as well dead. 

We see this in Wemmbu who, let's all be honest with ourselves, cares about the people around him (obviously to a degree, bc of the nature of the server) and the struggle between showing that care and taking care of himself. Like, the amount of times Wemmbu has threatened to ban someone and yet never followed through is Crazy. This man literally has never carried through with a death threat, and the reason why no one realizes that is because of the “infallible” persona he plays up, and his team-up with Zam’s crusade where they chunk-banned several players. Chunk-bans!! A temporary removal!! Someone needs to call him out for his empty threats. This man literally jumped into an arena to save Roshambo from FlameFrags because it was a losing battle and Roshambo was in danger of getting death-banned. He didn't need to. He already confirmed ManePear’s information and solidified their allyship. He didn't need to stick around. He didn't need to put himself in danger. Wemmbu knows he can't fight Flame and win, he actively compensates for those situations and avoids them without extensive planning Because he knows that. 

(Note: I am aware that he killed Tyrad, but consider that was a 3? 4? vs 1 fight on a server where players expect you to fight tooth and nail to live whether it be through totems, stasis chambers, escape, etc. When Wemmbu drops Tyrad there was genuine shock, muted or not. He didn't expect someone to Actually die. Reflecting on it is obviously not an option, he’s in the middle of breaking into a prison with several guards on his tail. Guards, who mind you, are stocked with the necessary effects for a fight. Additionally, when engaging in pvp Wemmbu tends to fight with the intention of escape, not actually killing his opponent.)

Of course, despite the violent nature of UU, developing a genuine relationship with other players is inevitable. Wemmbu makes several comments about ‘if he wanted to play alone, he'd load a single-player world.’ (Obviously a bit meta, but you know what I’m getting at.) And we see him do that. I’m mostly going to be focusing on PrinceZam and Eggchan as those (at least to me) are the most developed relationships, but there are hints of thought and care aimed at players we don't see too often. 

As I mentioned before, there's a struggle to show genuine care for a person on a server that will see that as a weakness and immediately exploit it. And we see that struggle between Zam and Wemmbu, who, despite consistently being at odds with each other, find satisfaction in that relationship. Sure, both of them are walking red flags, but there is genuine care in how they feel about each other, even if they're constantly holding back in order to maintain whatever image they've created for themselves. They're rivals. They constantly snarking, they're at each other's throats, they call out for each other in a fight, they make sure they have a full inventory (potions, gaps, enchant bottles, etc). They dress their worry with a lackadaisical attitude and are steadfast in believing that it's just that, even when their actions become entirely unnecessary. Wemmbu had a monopoly on the elytra, makes a point about it, yet easily gives one to Zam at the most logical opportunity (and then proceeds to give literally all of them to him sir wtf?? Crazy behavior I would never). Zam allows Wemmbu to treat him as someone other than a king, he lets him use the mace even if he was the one who got the heavy core; he trusts Wemmbu to have his back. Wemmbu traded the mace for Zam’s life not even knowing if it would work. They show love in the only way the server allows. And sometimes that care becomes too genuine, and they force themselves to pull back. 

“I’d never betray you- unless it's convenient.”

To reiterate, both Wemmbu and Zam have a plethora of issues, both are incredibly unreliable narrators who barely trusted each other but got very close. “I’d never betray you,” Wemmbu was too honest, that’s dangerous. “Unless it's convenient,” while definitely holding a modicum of truth, the statement feels so tacked on. Letting players know that you're attached to someone or something? Hell no. But even if he didnt mean it entirely and was mostly trying to save face (dare I say warn Zam from getting close?) he still said it. And of course Zam, who came from nothing and has built an empire, who has successfully worked to become someone who cannot be taken advantage of, who knows exactly how soft his underbelly and how to ensure no one else finds out, fixates on that. How can’t he? This is a man who, with every step, is looking back and allowing his history to haunt him. This is something that clashes so loudly with Wemmbu, who can't afford to think about the past, who can only change the present, who must persevere forward. Until Zam blows up the kingdom he asked Wemmbu to build. 

(Note: This analysis? Idk what im doing anymore im just yapping- Is more focused on Wemmbu than Zam, but I am aware that he likely has own complicated perspective that plays into his actions.)

At first the change in their relationship is subtle, small shows of power from Zam, a reminder that he is a king. Then it becomes sickly familiar tactics, tactics that Wemmbu has always accompanied, never faced. Their rivalry turned sour, every interaction they have haunted with what used to be. Wemmbu, who cares so much, watches the physical manifestation of his loyalty to Zam be blown up and thrown in his face, ‘my sweet, sweet Wemmbu’. He was used, manipulated, underestimated by someone who he, against all odds, cared for. Hate begins to fester, Wemmbu calls it a betrayal. You can't betray someone who didn't mean anything to you first. 

And then we’re able to witness unfiltered care between Wemmbu and Eggchan. We watch the pretense of the “infallible” player fall as he dresses himself in diamond, giving the netherite to his friend instead. As he ensures Egg’s safety in his schemes, as he trusts Egg to have his back, takes fights he knows he cant take so that Egg has more time to get out. And that loyalty is reciprocated tenfold. Egg is allowed numerous opportunities to leave, yet he chooses to stay despite the hardships. It's everything that was just out of reach for Zam and Wemmbu. (There's definitely a lot more to talk about but this is already gonna be so long). Egg won't stand by as his friend begins to come undone at the seams. He wont play into the cutthroat game this server has spun itself into. Which of course has consequences. While off on their chunk-banning crusade Zam and Wemmbu inevitably learned what made the other person tick. Kidnapping Egg was just another move on the chessboard bc god forbid that even if they hate each other, they take their eyes off each other for a second. 

This functions as the last straw, one last ditch attempt from Wemmbu in his war with Zam, he can't promise success but he sure as hell makes sure that he hits where it hurts. He blows his kingdom sky-high. And eye for an eye and a debt settled.

And then Zam apologizes. It's not necessarily out of the blue, for all the hurt he’s enacted on Wemmbu he's kept him alive for one reason or another (they are emotionally constipated dumbasses who care about each other and refuse to admit it). This changes everything and nothing. Despite the genuine admittance of grief and regret, the two don't pull their punches. They can only guess how many totems they've popped and how many are left. They switch foils. For a brief moment Zam does not allow his past to haunt him, ‘I don't want to accidentally kill you.’ Wemmbu, for all his persevering, for all his ability to focus on what he can do now, cannot let go of their past. For the first time, Wemmbu does want to kill a player. 

We’ll never find out if he wouldve carried through.

(ending this now bc this is too long and i have even more to say about the prison eps tbh, havent written in out yet tho T-T)

[midnight-pluto]

TAG — diluc r.

TROPES: childhood best friends, fluff, slight angst at the end

UNIVERSE: canon-ish

PAIRING(S): diluc x gn!reader

WARNING(S): mentions of alcohol

A/N: shoutout to the anon who helped give me the inspo for this <3

AS LOYAL PATRONS of The Angel's Share, your parents were frequent attenders of all of Dawn Winery’s events - wine tasting, birthdays, or just simple celebrations they were there.

However at your age, you couldn’t drink more than half of the menu and didn’t want to converse with drunken adults. So you were forced to sit inside under the supervision of the maids.

Mindlessly sipping on your juice while looking at the crossword puzzle given to you by the maids as your source of entertainment, you try your best to block out the loud talk outside.

What caught your eye though was a boy quickly going down the stairs, his socks sliding against the wooden floor and making his way over to the woman who was watching over you.

Gently tugging on her skirt to gain her attention, he speaks to her but softly enough for the laughter outside to block it from reaching your ears.

‘Red hair… is that Crepus’ son?’

Smiling softly at the boy, she points over to you leading to two pairs of eyes looking in your direction; straightening up under their gaze, you look to your left and right and point to yourself.

She simply chuckles and nods, giving the boy a soft push in your direction to which he followed and sat next to you on the sofa.

“Hi, what’s your name?” he asked.

“Y/N,” you reply simply, “What’s yours?”

“Diluc.”

“Cool,” you nod, not knowing what else to say.

“Cool,” he replied, also not knowing what else to say.

After a minute of silence you ask, “What do you think they’re talking about out there?”

“Who?

“The adults,” you remark blandly, “Bet it’s about wine.”

“It is a wine tasting event,” he responds, “My dad’s made another drink.”

There was a long silence for a moment. That was until Diluc had invited you to play tag outside since he was getting bored sitting around the house.

Accepting his invitation, he grabbed your hand and walked out the front door and into the vineyard where that game would begin.

“Why don’t we play hide-and-go-tag? I don’t like running a lot,” you offer, not the most thrilled at the thought of running in your nice clothes and then potentially getting stained.

“Mm… alright,” he agreed, and began counting.

“…9…10! Ready or not, here I come!” he announced, softly walking on the grass below his boots, and searching in between the lines vineyards for any sign of you.

After a few minutes of searching in between the vineyards he decides to search the crates next to the sign displaying the fact that there was currently an event taking place.

As he approached the crates he saw your figure dash out of the opening between the sign and the crates the other way yelling:

“You’ll never catch me alive!”

Causing the adults in the area to pause and observe what was occurring. Seeing your silhouette outlined by the lanterns glow run past them, and immediately seeing another - catching a glimpse of red hair - sprint after you, automatically understanding the situation.

“Careful! Make sure to not trip - it’s so dark right now,” a voice called out to the both of you.

“We know!” Diluc shouted back, steadily gaining on you.

Hearing his voice so close to you causes your adrenaline to spike and run faster than before, wind blowing against your face and in your ears.

Making a sharp turn you run towards the nearby lake, careful of your footing as to not fall flat on your face and to get dirty. You eventually get near the water and inhale sharp breaths once you get there.

You eventually hear another tired voice pant out, “Tag.”

Diluc was breathing harder than you, weakly touching your shoulder as to make sure you knew you were tagged and now it.

Your legs were to tired to hold you up and you sat on the sand, breathing slowing down. Diluc soon followed with an ‘oof.’

“We should just stay here,” you breathe out.

“Sounds good,” he sighs.

KNOCKING ON THE door of Dawn Winery as politely as you could, you immediately started speaking the moment the door was answered.

“Hello mr. Crepus, I would like to know where my favorite one of your sons are.”

“Hey! That is so rude,” Kaeya spoke up, pouting by the stairs.

“He’s upstairs in his room,” the older man replied, moving to let you in.

“Don’t worry Kaeya ‘cause Diluc’s about to get yelled at,” you say while speeding up the stairs.

Kaeya took a long look at his adoptive father, “Are you really just going to let them do that?”

“Eh, Diluc needs these kinds of things at his age.”

Slamming his door open with a loud, “Diluc!” caused the boy to jump and sit up in his bed and snapping his book shut.

“Diluc,” you stared at the boy in front of you dead in the eyes, as you silently shut his door - a stark contrast as to how you entered his room, “Why didn’t you tell me you got accepted as a knight of Favonius?”

“I- see, you were really busy with your studies and I didn’t want to bother you-“

“I don’t care about my studies!” you flopped onto his bed, “Well, not as much as you getting accepted into the knights, but still!

“We’re only ten, and here you are getting accepted into the knights! You should’ve told me,” you say a lot more calmer now, sitting on the edge of his bed as he shuffles to sit next to you.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he relents, “I promise you’ll be one of the first ones to know when something like this happens again.”

“Pinky,” you tell jokingly, holding yours out.

“Fine,” he huffs out, wrapping his pinky with yours.

“Your it now,” you say with a smug expression on your face.

“Oh my-“ he groans, taking his pinky away from you a taking back his book to read.

The game of tag has been going on for years now, non-stop with random time intervals and rules now added but it’s still a fun nostalgia piece to do.

“What’re you even reading this time around,” you ask, looking at the faint words of the book cover. “The Legend of Vennessa,” you read aloud, “Again?”

“Why not?”

“Fair point I guess, but still. You’ve read that like, what? Five times already?”

“It’s a good book!”

“Whatever,” you sigh.

“Don’t act like you haven’t read a book five times before,” Diluc points out, “Hex and Hound? That has like eleven volumes. How do you even have the patience?”

“No, I can’t get my hands on the last two volumes. It’s sold in Inazuma, I can’t even borrow it from the library like the rest of them,” you huff out.

“That’s tough man,” he remarks.

“It really is. It was left on a cliffhanger too!” you groan.

“What’s a cliffhanger again? I forgot,” Diluc asked, sweat dropping at the look you gave him, “What? I don’t read that often nowadays.”

“You’re left hanging. Dangling on a cliff. With no one to save you.”

“…do you think that’d be something that would happen to me if I’m on duty as a knight?”

“Diluc!”

"SO, CALVARY CAPTAIN now huh?" you teased, leaning your back against Diluc's shoulder.

You were under the tree under Windrise, and just as he had promise four years ago, you were one of the first to know about his promotion. Resting against the bark you watch as he methodically brushes the horses light brown coat.

"I suppose," he chuckles.

"Making history already; youngest calvary captain ever in the Knights of Favonius, heir to Mondstadt's wine industry, and is a vision holder! How does it feel?" you asks playfully, holding a windwheel aster you plucked from the ground and putting it near his face so he could talk into it.

"It really isn't that much-"

"Ah, oh so modest as ever" you laugh softly at his face because of your interruption. Blowing air into the red flower makes its petals spin slowly, "So, is the official Calvary Captain going to show me how to ride a horse or what?"

"So that's why you brought me here." Diluc nods in understanding with an amused look on his face, "Well, you better get up if that's what's going to happen."

"Wait I was just joking-" you couldn't finish your sentence until you were pulled up by him, clutching on the windwheel aster tighter as to not drop it.

Thankfully the horse Diluc had ridden to arrive at

Windrise was laying down so there wasn't that much of a difficulty.

Just as you were adjusting to your new seating arrangement the horse suddenly stood up, making you fall forward only to have your face meet with Diluc's back and grabbing onto the edges of the saddle for stability.

Straightening up, you see your friends face looking at you with a small smile and gently taking your hands off the saddle to place around his waist.

"So you won't fall," he explains, glancing at your widened eyes.

Feeling your heart beat faster you look towards your left at the shallow river created by the waterfall as a way to not gawk at his sheer amount of nonchalance at pulling you closer.

Shifting forward, your press your front against his back as the horse begins to trot forward.

Unfortunately, Diluc wasn't one to go slowly. He placed more force upon the saddle's stirrup causing the horse's light trot to a fast gallop.

At the sudden change of speed you let out a small squeak, hurrying your face into Diluc's back and tightening your grip against his waist and the flower you still held.

Feeling your added pressure against his body, Diluc places a soothing hand against yours wrapped around his waist and rubs his thumb against the back of your hand as an attempt to calm you.

"I suppose that this counts as tag, huh?" he asked playfully, continuing to hold your hand in his.

"Yeah! Sure," you reply quickly, trying to get over the fact that you might've developed a crush on your best friend.

EVER SINCE DILUC’s eighteenth birthday, things have never been the same.

The people of Mondstadt have fallen silent, Kaeya’s usual charming nature turned off, and Diluc hasn’t been seen since.

As you were standing by his fathers grave, placing flowers next to it footsteps were heard approaching you. Looking over your shoulder, you catch a glimpse of a familiar eyepatch and blue hair.

“Hey Kaeya,” you say, eyes still fixated on the grave in front of you.

“Diluc’s gone,” he spoke, voice trembling.

“What?” your voice was low, not believing your own ears.

“Diluc has left Mondstadt. He left Adeline in charge of the manor,” he explains, voice void of any emotion.

“Do you know where he went?”

“We… we ended things on bad terms,” Kaeya says as if he were holding back tears.

Hearing his trembling voice, you decide not to push any further. “I see.”

“Thank you, Kaeya, for letting me know,” you turn towards him with a somber smile and walking past him.

“Where are you going?” Kaeya called out to you.

“Dawn Winery. Adeline must know something about Diluc’s disappearance,” you say not stopping your footsteps, “At the very least Diluc must’ve left a not or, something.”

“As stubborn as ever,” Kaeya dryly chuckles.

You were going to find Diluc, that was a fact. In your game of tag you were the last one to be proclaimed ‘it.’ You refused to lose to him, you couldn’t stand it.

You refused to lose him.

A/N: goddam this was a long ass fic ; part 2 anyone?

[astralis-is-typing]

Stray kids family as an actual family

⚝fic type: headcannon (comedy/crack)

⚝genre/contains: a rundown of the kinds of relatives you will encounter at a typical family gathering, except it’s stray kids

⚝word count: 1.5k

⚝A/N: hi hi! if you’ve ever been to a large family gathering you’ll probably relate to one of these, no matter where you're from haha. did these from jeongin -> chan instead of the usual order to spice things up (⁠◠⁠‿⁠◕⁠) p.s: this is just for giggles so don't take it too seriously. enjoy!

｡Yang Jeongin*ﾟ

Grandma Jeongin has two modes, and she will be interrogating you either way.

Most of the time she’s talking about other family members while she cooks or cleans up the kitchen. Jeongin knows who is most likely to get married next, who will never get married, who’s about to get a divorce and even which of your cousins is at loggerheads with their respective bosses.

Whether she ends up being right about her crazy notions or not, she does not care. Jeongin will always have something to talk about, no matter how controversial it may be.

If you’re in the kitchen, then it seems you must automatically join in on these speculations. Better play it up, because it’ll distract her from putting you on dish duty- and get you early access to whatever she’s cooking up (a storm piece of cake).

“Help your grandmother,” she’ll grumble, if she figures she won’t get much out of you. “Kids these days. When I was your age I didn’t have to be asked. You’ll never find a spouse with this behaviour.”

At other times, your favourite granny is sweet once she’s been sated by her 4th cup of tea. Or a cup of soda, on days she’s feeling ‘adventurous and bold’. Jeongin will spontaneously call you over and ask you who your girlfriend or boyfriend is now. Jeongin wants to know what you’ve been doing with your whole life, but all in good faith haha.

Grandma Jeongin will also be commenting on your fashion choices and giving you rather outdated skincare tips on how to age gracefully like her.

｡Kim Seungmin*ﾟ

The cousin you’re always being compared to, academically or otherwise. Seungmin is 100% that overachiever who is constantly being praised by all your uncles and aunts who think the world of him.

It’s hard not to be jealous or annoyed when your parents compare you to your genius cousin and ask you unbelievable questions. “Why can’t you get A’s like Seungmin?”

No matter what you’ve done in your life, it seems Seungmin has outdone you lmao. He’s the golden child who can do no wrong and you just have to live with it.

In spite of the pressure to be perfect, Seungmin is still really fun to be around. He’ll also do your homework/projects for you if you ask nicely enough.

(Who are we kidding, this is Kim Seungmin. You’ll probably have to cough up some cash haha.)

｡Lee Felix*ﾟ

The fun cousin. Now, one person like this is enough to survive a family gathering.

Felix is the cousin who you need to show up. He’s the person who actually makes family gatherings tolerable. Like, if Felix doesn’t pull up then everyone is kind of bored.

He’s everyone’s favourite cousin; you can count on him to make those boring dinners interesting, and be your crime partner in the event you and your cousins plan to sneak out- distracting you guys’ parents with detailed stories of how he managed to win 63 medals in ‘taekwondaur’.

He’s the adults’ favourite, too. When you were children, and needed to send someone to ask for permission to game/watch TV, he was for sure the one appointed- because no one can say no to him.

When your grandmother is interrogating you and you can’t think of an exit plan, this cousin will charmingly swoop in and save your ass.In any kind of familial sticky situation, Felix has got your back.

｡Han Jisung*ﾟ

Han was probably forced to come lmfao. He was most likely threatened by his parents because they’re tired of being asked where their son is and why he won’t visit.

Jisung is that relative you see once in a blue moon. You’re not quite sure what side of the family he’s from, but you are somehow related. You barely know anything about this guy- what he does for a living, or if he’s been to college… Han Jisung is quite the mystery.

He’s the person that shows up late, leaves early, and is really just there for the food. You don’t really blame him, though; family gatherings can be exhausting. It’s understandable that some people would rather just bypass as many of them as possible.

Your other relatives will call him antisocial because he’s mostly on his phone, but he’s really just trying to avoid being spotted (and probed) by Grandma Jeongin- or Auntie Lee Know, who you’ll meet further down this post haha. Someone like Felix might manage to rope him into making conversation here and there, but Jisung’s interest widely remains at large.

Jisung disappears from the feast as quietly as he came in, and it takes a while for anyone to notice his absence. With his ability to remain evasive, Han might as well be a spy bahah.

｡Hwang Hyunjin*ﾟ

The rich aunt who lives abroad and only comes to visit every three or four years. All the kids love her because she comes loaded with presents for everyone. She’s super fun to be around because she’s got this carefree nature that’s simply infectious. Hyunjin just oozes rich auntie vibes. I mean, did you see him in that 5-star trailer?! Definitely the one who’s been supplying Grandma Jeongin with her collection of eccentric footwear.

Since she’s not around much she doesn’t know what you like, and will give you enough money to buy yourself something nice. Aunt Hyunjin will also come through for you in any financial trial you might be going through. You need a new computer? She’s on it. Rent is due and you’re in a tight spot? Aunt Hyunie to the rescue!

Of course, quality family time cannot be substituted with money, no matter the amount. But hey, if Hyunjin wants to slap a fat wad of cash in your hand, you’re not complaining…

｡Seo Changbin*ﾟ

The relative who can’t stop gushing over how big you’ve grown. Whether you’re 15 or 28, you’ll have to endure his speculations over how it was ‘just the other day’ when he was changing your diapers, and look at you now. Once he’s had a drink or two, Changbin does not hesitate to dish out super embarrassing stories of you as a child.

Nevertheless, Changbin is really fun to be around. He’s present at most family gatherings and more or less keeps them happening.

Changbin is also that uncle who’s trying to help everyone get their lives in order lmfao. You’d easily mistake him for a life coach or fitness guru with the way he’s spewing out tips on how to live a healthier lifestyle every 15 minutes. His advice is valid, sure, but you’re really just trying to enjoy your food, you know?

“You shouldn’t be drinking that. Don’t you know coca cola can be used as a toilet cleaner?! And you’re still willingly ingesting it…” He’d say, shaking his head in disappointment.

｡Lee Know*ﾟ

The nosy aunt.

Auntie Lee Know will sidle up to you with an offering of cookies or potato chips while she not-so-subtly pries into your dating life. Given the chance, she can turn any encounter you have into the possible beginning of a romantic trope. You tell her someone was glaring at you on the bus? Strangers to lovers. Your classmate keeps gloating over the fact that they beat you in a recent exam? Academic rivals to lovers.

For all its worth, Auntie Lee Know is a fantastic cook and the thought of her beef wellington gets you through most interrogations.

If Auntie Lee Know isn’t grilling you, then she is most definitely gossiping in the kitchen with Granny Jeongin about you and everyone else. Those two are a force to reckon with when put together. And there is really no escaping them when they get their hands on you. Like, you literally can never win, this auntie wants to know it all.

Auntie Lee Know also acts as the kitchen’s bodyguard, keeping out hungry relatives (mostly her brother, Changbin) until Jeongin is done cooking. Beware, she’s armed with a wooden spoon and she sure as hell knows how to use it!

｡Bang Chan*ﾟ

That foive-year-old kid you find sleeping in your bed when you sneak away to your room for some quiet time.

If you’ve ever hosted a family gathering at your house, you’ll know what I’m talking about.

Sometimes you just need a moment to pull away from everything, and what better solace than your bedroom? Of course, you do not expect to find someone’s kid lying on your bed, and drooling on your pillow.

Going back into the fray to enquire who’s baby it is would only beat the purpose of your sneaking away, and additionally show your room to unnecessary people who might decide it’s the perfect place to lay down their babies too!

And you are not trying to run a day-care here.

Chan would also be that one kid who keeps asking if you have games on your phone. RIP your peace of mind if he finds out you’ve got Pokémon on there.

You can’t find it in you to get mad at him, though. After all, it’s not his fault that his slightly irresponsible parents left him in your room.

⚝A/N: Thank you for reading! As a present for making it to the end, here’s visual proof of Lee Know being the nosy aunt that he is jksbdiskancdg 💀 I hope they film skz family 3 this year, sigh... need to know if Chan is secretly Seungmin's son. Anyways, remember to reblog and share your thoughts with me if you enjoyed ʕ⁠ノ⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠ʔ⁠ノ

[dairy-farmer]

Am on a reversal of my other prompts kick~ :3c

Imagine~~

The Time Loop Prompt! A perfectly average, nothing happening, boring 24 hours. BUT THIS TIME?? It's NOT Tim who gets trapped! It's our dear Bat Boys!

Tim is still patrolling, been distant. Considering going back to The Nest. This upsets Bruce but he doesn't want to push and drive Tim away. Aggravates Damian, who is supposed to be putting away the Suspect Unknown Magical Object.

The more he listens to Drake make excuses, the more annoyed he gets. He gets careless. Too rough. Jason arrives, planning to look something up, but notices and corrects him. It's the final straw. He slams the idol down.

It shatters.

Magic sweeps the cave. Oh Shit.

Tim HEARD that. Respond. Respond! He's coming over! Tim IMMEDIATELY changes his plans. Awkwardness be damned, they just got exposed to Unknown Magics. He arrives. The Bats manage to peel themselves off the floor. Run through their standard "are we compromised" tests. So far? Nothing.

But Tim is gonna stay the night, just to safe. A 24 hour watch.

The next day is quiet. Maybe it really was nothing? Or it hasn't hit yet, knowing their luck. Could have just been the showy bang itself. Still... it's nice to actually have Tim AROUND for once. They wish they knew how to say that without starting a fight. They watch him head out around midnight. They hate it.

The NEXT day though? Oh. So THAT'S what it did. Timeloop. Well that's annoying. Except... except Tim's expression says he has no idea what they are talking about. But he was THERE, was he? They compare notes. And...

No. No, he wasn't. He HEARD the idol breaking, but wasn't actually THERE for it. He's outside of the Loop. So he'll have to take their word on it. Now, what are their options? Magic users, right?

They spend the day trying to figure out who they need to talk too. Then the next. Then the NEXT. Gods damn it they hate magic so, SO much. But! Constantine SHOULD be able to brute force them out? They are told this sort of situation is "his thing". Fine. So where is he?

Yeeeeah, about that.....

Bruce closes the link before he says something he will probably not regret, but would be DEEPLY unprofessional. Apparently they are on their own finding Constantine. Last known location: "probably Earth".

Fantastic.

It takes the rest of that loop to put together a functional program. One that will search for the House of Mysteries in a grid pattern, spanning the entirety of the planet. They cut it close, but manage to memorize it.

Next loop, start the program. Which... takes ALL of the Bat computer's processing power to run.. meaning they can't work on any cases. Now what?

They disperse. Try to find something to do. Read that book, finally play that game, maybe work on that art project. But... what's the POINT if all their progress gets undone? They try new foods, take naps, check out places they've put off going too.

The program has barely made a dent. The entire planet is not a SMALL place to search after all.

It's Dick who gets lonely first. Gets ideas. He'll swear of course, he didn't. It just... his friends are busy. Thanks to the loop? They'll STAY busy. Forever. He wants to hang out. Misses his Timmy Time. Things aren't great between them. But he is trying to be better.

And for Tim? It's a Rule. If someone stuck in a Timeloop wants to hang out, you hang out. Because YOU may have spoken to them yesterday, but for them? They could have been trapped alone for years. So he sighs and let's Dick drag him along.

Dick is THRILLED. Tim is having fun. HE'S having fun.

He genuinely can't remember when last it was just the two of them. Hanging out. Does Tim even skateboard anymore? Still WANT to see that photo exhibit? Yeah, Tim is having fun. But Dick gets the vibe he's humoring him. That... that he doesn't even KNOW him anymore.

So next loop he tries again.

It's not like Tim remembers their last hang out. He can keep trying! Movies and events and outings. Has he ever taken Timmy dancing, he wonders? Let's hit the clubs! Everything and anything! See what gets a spark of interest.

And... listen, maybe the clubbing was a mistake. Yes, Timmy is old enough. Yes, he had fun. But so did Dick. They got dressed up Super Hot. They got tipsy. Dick made sure to watch over Tim while he was their, made sure no one harassed him or put anything in his drink. Let him have fun in the loud music and strobing lights.

And... and... Realized Timmy... Timmers Tim Tim... grew up Hot. Watched him move. Laugh. Be gorgeous and relaxed in a way he rarely gets to be, surrounded by people who WANT him but who could NEVER know him like Dick does.

He... he should not be having these thoughts. Not about his baby brother. It's a distant thought. Weak in the face of things sliding into place at long last. Finally a name to apply to the complicated MESS that sat between them. One that seemed to come from HIM and not Tim. Oh.

His hands linger more then they should, helping his tipsy brother home. He dumps them both in his bed. Legs tangled, clothes on. Just to soak up the warmth of Timmy's body and press close, close, CLOSE. To let mad thought and insane plans rumble to life in his head. He shouldn't. He has to shut these thoughts down NOW while he still has a chance.

Tim is so warm. A bit giggly and boneless from the elaborate cocktails he wanted to try. Cologne all but washed off by sweat and stinking of the club. But... but cuddling him BACK for the first time in as long as he can remember, outside of an Ivy breakout. He wants and wants and wants. What if he could KEEP this?

It's so warm.

And waking up is so cold. No Tim. Just a reset timeloop and empty bed. Tim remembers nothing. But Dick does. Things have shifted. Lets go clubbing, Timmy! Why PAY for their cocktails when I can make better ones! It's called pre-gaming!

Soon they are tipsy, it's barely mid-day. But Tim is gorgeous and laughing. But, WHOOPS! Dick spilled his drink on your pants! Thank god we're still at home, huh? You can still change. BTW, unrelated, past boyfriends? Wanna rant?

He distracts Tim, pants off, with a rant. Nudges the conversation where he wants it. Dick's not nearly as drunk as he's pretending. But Tipsy Tim? Has GRIEVANCES! Don't get him wrong! He LOVES trying new positions! Practicing his BJs! So sue him, he's a perfectionist! But does that mean he never wants a little reciprocal action? No!

He, in fact, very much DOES want to get eaten out! Constantly! And other things! CONSTANTLY! He's horny and stressed okay? They lead stressful lives! But GOD FORBID men who will dive head first into radioactive goo monsters, put their Precious Wittle Mouths anywhere near his-!

Dick takes his chance. HE would never do that. You deserve BETTER. Have all those cases on the Bat computer, all that work at WE. He crowds forward, not looming, on his knees. Hands resting on Tim's hips. Not doing anything. Just so very, very Close.

Tim deserves to relax... doesn't he?

And Tim is torn. This does not seem like normal Dick behavior, but? Timeloop? Booze? And does he WANT this? Dick IS his childhood hero. He's had dreams about stuff like this. Should say no though. But then Dick leans forward, rests his flushed cheek against the soft skin of Tim's stomach. Rubs, just to feel them glide against each other.

Tim shudders. Y.. yeah. He deserves to relax. He mutters.

Like blood in the water before a shark. Tim squeaks he's lifted and moved so fast. He's being pressed down to the end of Dick's bed. He barely has time to register his boyshorts disappearing before his legs are lifted and spread. Then skilled, wet, heat is PLUNDERING him and he's jerking so hard you'd think he was tazered. Hands scrambling along Dick's sheets for any sort of purchase.

Gasping for air, whimpering, he can't for enough coherent thought to tell Dick to just-! Oh god! S-slow down! He spasms apart and then? Oh god. Clever, clever fingers. Sliding deep and rubbing just-! Dick is VERY good with his mouth. Tim come apart again and again, until he's desperately grabbing for Dicks head, slurring weakly for it to stop. For Dick to let him REST.

It's so god damn PERFECT. Dick has never seen anything better. Flushed and boneless and taken car off so good. He gently hauls him up the bed. Gets his Timmy all warm and snuggly. Then slides slick and perfect into his pampered little hole. Wraps him up close for a cuddle. Just the two of them, as he fucks. So, so good~

It's more of a rut then anything, honestly. But holding him? Feeling the gushing wet hole flutter around him as he rocks and rocks, just chasing his pleasure? Tim is so GOOD for him. A twitching, drooling, exhausted mess wrapped up in a safe little bundle, here in his arms. He slides as deep as he can, when he cums. Keeps Tim close and full.

Fails to notice, near midnight, when someone comes looking for him.

Tim may not remember, but Damian sure does. And he is NOT best pleased. Have you LOST YOUR MIND?! He may not li.. may have.. there may be strained relations between him and Drake, but that does not mean he will allow these PERVERSIONS!

Tim is baffled and wary. The Demon Child is sticking to him like glue. Dick keeps trying to subtlety separate them but what say WHY. As the day progresses, it escalates.

The NEXT Same Day? Tim is out right ALARMED. Dick tries to kidnap him for "bro time"? Did the magic idol turn him evil?! Shit! KON! He spends the day at the Kent farm.

Next loop? Wakes up in a safe house. One of Bruce's? WHY? Oh fuck. Damian's kidnapped him. Wait.... are... are these Bruce's KINK restraints?! Damian What The FUCK?!

And... look. Damian's at the end of his rope here. Richard is NOT giving up. Has years more experience and a plethora of allies. Drake doesn't even realize he's IN peril! No! Shut up!

He gags Tim. Begins explaining. Looks unhinged. Pacing back and forth. First the time loop, which is his fault. He KNEW better then to let his temper get the better of him! Has been working tirelessly to-! It doesn't matter. First the timeloop. His fault. Then Richard acting suspicious. Nothing out of place though? Until it WAS!

Liquor supplies raided! Held up in his room all day! Damian was suspicious!

The BASTARD! Forever going on about Family this and Family that! Blood relations don't mean anything! Still FAMILY!! He just wanted-!

Damian freezes, mid rant. Things connecting in his mind. Tim doesn't know WHAT and is too busy trying to get free of his cuffs to care. But then Damian spins to look at him. Eyes intense in a way that is VERY AL Ghul and thus VERY concerning.

Damian figured it out. Richard wanted Tim for himself. Of course he did. Tim is the favorite apprentice. Richard lied to Damian so Damian wouldn't be compition. He KNEW Damian desired Timothy and was doing everything he could to discourage it! Because Damian is the rightful heir. He has more to offer. Is a dangerous rival to have. He figure it out!

Tim has no idea what's happening and Damian may have finally gone insane.

Why is he coming closer? No! No coming closer! Go be insane somewhere ELSE! But Damian does not. He's not just Wayne stubborn. He's AL Ghul stubborn. He can TOTALLY seduce his freaked out, tied up, brother-rival!

Tim tries to kick him in the face.

Works for him. He's done research, he knows Dick's modis operandi. It apparently WORKS so... Holding the legs that tried to kick him, he inches forward. To tug sleep shorts out of the way until they are trapped near bound knees.

If Tim could remember it, could compare them, he'd tell you Damian is rougher then Dick. Demanding and exploring, tounge hot as it goes where it pleases. That he was far more merciless, in his inexperience, as that demanding mouth sucks and licks and toys with his clit. He chokes on air. Jerks and thrashes against the restraints binding him.

He's barely aware of Damian reaching for something, of some sort of noises, as he tries to escape the onslaught. But then there are demanding fingers. Slick and clumsy. Exploring, pushing deep as they can, more STUFFING him then fucking him. Full. Too much!

Something else replaces them. Over lubed. It SQUELCHS going in. Whats?

If nothing else, Damian has an EXCELLENT eye for sex toys. Tim all but HOWLS when he flips the vibrator on. Unthinkingly cranking it high, with little thought for Tim's sensitive hole. The orgasm is DRAGGED out of him. He.. he doesn't think Damian can even TELL he came. He's to distracted by eating him out.

Oh god. Tim's gonna die.

The vibrator keeps going.

By the time the loop resets, Damian has used several "interesting" toys he's tried. And fucked Tim's poor, throbbing hole full. Tim is losing time. His shoulders are screaming from the restraints and he's passed at least twice. Damian has... has never been softer with him.

Whispering praise and kissing every bit of skin he can reach. Cuddling close. Touching him reverently. Tim doesn't know how to feel. Doesn't... Doesn't understand.

He wakes up and doesn't remember.

Jason, however, catches both Dickface and the Hellion trying to kidnap his Replacement. Has some Opinions about that. He'd THOUGHT things were too quite.

There goes his reading day. And he'd been making such good progress on his books. This is some BULLSHIT. Meh, Timbers can sleep on the couch. Back to his regancy novel. Except of course his life could never be that easy. The fuckers team up. Lie their asses off to some Kryptonians. And he KNOWS that Kon-El has been just WAITING for an excuse, so DICK MOVE you FUCKERS! Oh shit!

Now they are in a lead lined bunker. No quality literature in sight. Timbits is convinced the idol turned everyone but him evil and you know what? Yeah. Yeah that's EXACTLY what happened. We should kick them in the dicks about it. It's the only heroic thing to do, really.

But then the fuckers FIND his lead bunker. HOW.

And the squirrly little shit he's trying to protect goes "don't worry, I got a place". Next thing he knows? Bam. Just... just a fuckin WALL of pictures of baby him. Timbers had a secret, Kryptonian-proof, stalker bunker? Oh. My. God. This is the creepiest, hottest, most pathetic thing he's ever seen.

Is that one of those WAIFU PILLOWS? Oh my God it IS! It's HIM! Booty shorts and all! Bruce shut that shit DOWN. They only ever managed to sell 15!

Tim regrets everything. Please. Just... for the love of all that is holy. Evil family members? Remember? Ignore my Secret Shame Bunker.

Jason will not. Don't think he didn't see the Red Hood merch. Supporting crime alley merchants are we? Cause they are the ONLY ones who sell those. The rest you had to have MADE. You're a creepy little fanboy. Holy shit. How did he FORGET that?

......Jason kinda needs to bend you over that creepy waifu pillow on those Red Hood sheets and fuck your brains out. Get over here. Now.

Tim would... LIKE to say as both a collector and self respecting vigilante, he doesn't desecrate his collection and get wildly distracted. But. Well. He would be a lying liar who lies. He's face down, ass in the air in SECONDS. Jason pounds him like he's trying to permanently bruise his hips. Makes him admit to all sorts of things he SWORE he'd take to the grave. Then flips him on his back, bends him in half, and goes AGAIN.

Somehow he finds Tim's old self-interest fanfiction. Drags Tim's head down to blow him as he reads it out loud. There are literary critiques. Tim's too distracted by the cock in his mouth to care.

Dawn comes. Tim does not remember. Jason wages war against the two fuckos who would prevent take two of "The Secret Fuck Bunker: An Epic Romance." He is INVESTED.

Bruce... finally acknowledges he can't keep ignoring whatever nonsense his sons are getting up too. It's loud and getting in the way of, you know, BREAKING THE TIME LOOP. You remember that, RIGHT children of his? He banishes them from the house. Well, Alfred does. He nods and agrees to it.

Tim is concerned but understanding. Bruce explains what progress they've made. They... they talk. Tim is supportive. He always has been, even when Bruce did not deserve it. Bruce.. admits the loop could not have come at a worse time.

The anniversary of- When he was lost in time? Tim finishes.

Yes. Being unmoored. Lost, trapped, and helpless before a force you can't so much as touch. Bruce has never liked timeloops. They are made to drive men mad.

Hesitantly, Tim climbs into his lap. Heavy and warm. Alive. Here. Arms wrap around Bruce in a hug and he just? Let's himself... breathe. Holds his boy back. Anchored and okay, if only for now. The hum of the computer, the chattering of bats, the smell of Tim's cologne. It's meditative.

Hands, running soothing fingers through his hair, gripping his sweater. A head resting against his own, Tim's lips ghosting against his forehead. Nearly a kiss, mostly just closeness. It's... it's the stillness that does it. Let's the thought he refused to think, finally slink forward. It's just them here.

And only he will remember.

But... He is an old and broken man. Has insisted on playing Father figure for so long, for all he did it so poorly. What right does he have to think this, much less ACT on it? To complicate Tim's life. Try to be something he's not even sure he can manage? What right does he have?

And why? He wonders, rubbing his exhausted cheek against the softness of Tim's shirt. Is he so very weak, so selfish, when it comes to love?

Tim's fingers pause... and then continue.

They have always been a lot alike. This may have been inevitable. But a day spent camping in his chair is not. It's terrible for his back. And for all that the loop may reset physical exhaustion, they clearly do nothing for mental exhaustion. The program will run just fine on its own, Bruce. Too bed with you.

For the first time in years, that old Batman Mischief. Oh? And who will keep him there? Hmm? You? Better supervise him. Make sure he stays. Tim's laugh fills the cave. Guess he has no choice then, does he?

Shukking clothes, Bruce feels decades younger. Back when the world wasn't so heavy on his shoulders. Just two young men, a soft bed, in the dark. He kisses Tim breathless as he works him open. Finds sensitive spots on his neck as he wrings and orgasm out of his boy, just to get him relaxed. Plenty of lube and stretching, and he's sinking in. Slow and relentless.

Tim gasping, shaking, gripping his arms like a lifeline. Tim feel like he's being impaled on a log. If he didn't love Bruce he'd have called it off the second his pants were off. He's never sitting again. Never WALKING again. It's not even rubbing against anything, just pressure. But... but Bruce is looking at him with such AWE and in such PLEASURE and he.. he cant.....

Bruce starts slow and relentless. Just getting Tim's body to let him GO. To stop clenching and relax. Little by little. Then faster. Harder. It feels ruinous. No ones ever going to be able to stuff Tim like this. He can't even tell if he LIKES it. So much. Full. Stretched and sloppy and all his inside pumped to pieces.

Should be crude. Violent. He's being RUINED. But Bruce is so loving. Holding him and praising him and kissing him. Gasping like it's the best he's ever had. That's cheating. How us Tim supposed to be mad if he does that? And then Bruce cums in him and he can't even... even...

Bruce loses count, how many rounds they go. Tim is absolutely fuck drunk and gapping, his poor little hole drooling and twitching around nothing. He should have held back. Next time he'll hold back.

Probably.

He pulls his sweet boy close and just... let's himself exsist. Holds him. Everything is warm and good. He drifts off.

And wakes up alone. Start of the loop.

Bruce breaks some things.

He also puts two and two together, as he stalks his was to go fetch Tim. The odd behavior of his sons makes a.. sudden sort of sense. Family Room. Now. Let Tim sleep.

No one wants to admit to anything. Them? Take advantage on the timeloop? They would never! Take advantage of Tim's lack of MEMORY of the loops? They would NEVER! In fact! What were YOU doing at the devils sacrament, goodie Procter?!

Accusations are thrown.

Bruce asks if they're done.

Because this can go one of two ways. They leave Tim alone until after the loops after finished. OR? They share.

What.

Tim can't make an informed decision with less then 24hours of information to go off of. We may remember our time bonding with him. But HE does not. We share, he decides. What, if anything, he'll do AFTER the loop ends. No fighting or No Tim.

Argue and I'll have Clark remove Tim from the house each day, every day, at midnight. Full 24 hours. Try me.

Tim wakes up to a VERY weird energy in the studio today. The vibes are Off. You guys... good? They explain the Timeloop. He chooses to believe it's that.

Right up until Jason pulls him into a guest bedroom and fucks him on the floor.

It takes a lot of days Tim doesn't remember, for the program to Find Constantine. He gets fucked in his bed, his brothers bed, the batcave. There are threesomes he doesn't remember. Face fucking. Machines. Each morning, the SAME morning, his family greet him with a stranger and stranger energy he can't quite place. He's missing something.

They find Constantine right before a loop resets. Tim is asleep when they head out to Argentina. He goes from dead asleep to WIDE FUCKING AWAKE.

TIM. REMEMBERS.

Oh, you BASTARDS. Not even a DRINK first? What is he, a cheap date?? Just a "hey gorgeous" and a hand down his pants!?!? He's killing them! Alfred! ALFRED! Where's the shotgun!?

Those fuckers better GROVEL. No dates, no ROMANCE, just fucking him against the nearest flat surface. In FACT! KON! Kon get your Midwest ass over here! You're my dad now!

The Bats hear Boss Music and are rightfully afraid to answer their phones. It won't save them. Tim is MIFFED and owed ROMANCE and ROMANTIC fuckings. Where the hell are his flowers? His fancy restaurants reservations? His ALIEN TECHNOLOGY!?

He's moving in with the KENT'S! No pussy for you! No pussy 1000 years!

😭😭😭😭 tim getting so MAD at the bats for not romancing him and just fucking him instead- repeatedly to. they used him like an open cunt at a glory hole!!! he would absolutely be livid and as for the bats, tim is angry but at least he's still talking with them even if it is to yell and insult them 😭😭😭

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

Day 2: Operation

(Disclaimer: only three of the characters in this story belong to me. You can find more information about K.O. here. For more information about Caliban and R.D.—who are only mentioned, but still deserve some credit—go here and here. For my personal headcanons on Murdock, who belongs to the Markiplier Cinematic Universe, go here. And if you’d like to learn more about the mob these guys all work for, go here.)

(There's a little something-something included at the end of this story; a sneak-peek for the events of Day 6 and Day 7. Originally, there were going to be three bonus snippets at the end of three specific stories, all leading up to a separate story as a Halloween Special. But I was on a time-crunch, and plans had to change. Just figured I'd give some extra context.)

(Trigger Warnings: blood/gore, disembowelment, knives/blades, descriptions of illegal business, implied violence, implied murder/death, mentions of cannibalism, strong language. Please let me know if I missed anything.)

Day 1 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5 Day 6 Day 7

___

A slick, bubbling sigh crept up into the air as Murdock raked his dagger down the target’s chest. 

The crimson line left in his wake slowly grew wider and wider, oozing out to unveil the remaining layer of muscle tissue that stretched about the sternum. Having that stuff be touched by cool, relatively fresh air for the first (and last) time must’ve been something else. 

The edges of flesh seemed to pucker, almost resembling a frayed seam in clothing. 

Even if he typically didn��t do much harvesting himself, he’d still stuck around to chat and watch one of his many accomplices harvest from plenty of targets in the past. He still knew most of the basics.

Through the years, Murdock and Caliban had bonded over quite a few things—knives being one of them. Sure, the cannibal’s pun-addiction never failed to be infuriating, but he (and, by extension, his sister) was still a damn good colleague to have. 

Someone who was not only a reliable body-disposal resource, but also knew how to make collective millions on the Black Market, as well as help play some thrilling games with the mob’s targets?

That was someone who you’d have to be an absolute dumbass to not want in your corner for this type of business. 

And business was typically good when knives were involved. Yeah-yeah, other weapons had their merits, other weapons were more suited for certain situations, take your pick. 

(OR just finally own up and admit that blades are the best when it comes to dramatics. Not only because they make the work nice and messy, but they also require you to actually practice and learn so you can eviscerate the idiots who decided to talk behind your back with even more skill and flair than the average JoCat-inspired comeback.)

Knives were one of the things to have awoken his passion for mayhem years ago. 

Knives brought blood, and blood brought profit and suggestion and energy…

A soft, strangled groan seeped out through the target’s teeth. Murdock paused, turning his head to peer down at the other man’s eyes. 

It seemed that most of the lights were out—save for one that was still trying to flicker out of pure desperation—but someone was still home. He wouldn’t be for much longer, of course, if the lack of motion and the glaze in his eyes and the unnatural angle of his neck and the space between each shallow, wheezing, barely-audible breath was any indication. 

Murdock chewed his lip before shrugging to himself, returning his focus to the incision. 

It could be hard to apply the right amount of force (since people were infamous for being shockingly durable and shockingly fragile at the same damn time). But then, there was always a plethora of potential buyers wanting organs for a plethora of increasingly specific and increasingly fucked-up reasons. Even the ones with a little damage could still make money.

As Murdock set his blade off to the side and took hold of the sections he’d just sliced, pulling them even further apart and tearing a few strands of formerly internal tissue, he caught a metallic glint out of the corner of his eye. 

There, resting right above where he’d just started cutting, was a tiny pendant crafted in the shape of a butterfly. Squinting at it, Murdock realized that the charm’s bright yellow material looked oddly pure. Moreso than the brass of his own necklace. Not only that, but there was a total of four little gems adorned it, one attached to each wing, all cut in a Marquise style.

…Gold, a voice in his head hissed. GOLD.

The color, the way it shone in the light; there was no way this thing wasn’t genuine! Hell, if his guesstimate was right, then it had to be fourteen karats! Which, in turn, meant even at its size—just big enough to balance on his thumbnail—it would still be worth a little over five-hundred dollars. 

Even more than that if those stones were authentic diamonds and not just Swarvoski…

Sure, when it came to stuff outside a target’s body, a price like that wasn’t much compared to the prices of the stuff inside a target’s body. 

But that was just it: patrons of the Black Market were often there simply because they’d grown bored of normal luxuries (and true luxury never came without the suffering of others, did it?). 

If they weren’t looking for organs or skin or bones, then they’d be looking for trinkets that seemed casual at first, only to come with sinister stories. 

Such as, for example, a little jeweled trophy snatched away from the poor victim of a hitman while they lay dying a slow, painful death. 

Bloodstains could dress up the sale even more, but then, most of those elite customers got all pouty and extra annoying if they couldn’t flaunt what they bought. With that in mind, Murdock decided to put the butterfly charm off to the side until he was done with the harvesting. 

The thin chain snapped like a reed as he pulled, pinching the butterfly’s sides between his index-finger and thumb.

And then, all the jokes Caliban had made about butterfingers were ringing in his ears as the pendant was suddenly airborn…

___

Of all the things K.O. had imagined when he’d first been offered a place in The Pentas Family, petsitting was not one of them.

Not that this was really a problem, mind you—he’d gotten the other things he’d expected and then some. (A better fighting schedule, a much more profitable hidden-in-plain-sight arena, opponents to beat to a pulp, paid assignments on top of the money he raked in each time he won a match…)

Besides, while he was a definite dog-person, he still had a soft spot for animals in general.  

Even the one that might just be attempting sabotage at the moment. 

“I know what you’re trying to do, Snare,” K.O. called, not looking away from the cutting board and the various leafy things he’d been systematically chopping up for the past few minutes. 

Snare’s only response was to keep weaving around the fighter’s ankles, regularly pausing to reach up and paw at his knees. 

A half-smile on his face, K.O. continued, “Look, even if I did end up getting one of my own fingers by accident, I still wouldn’t give it to you. I already gave you one from Cal’s freezer, and the instructions say you can only get two per week. That’s just the rules, and the only time I can really break any rules is when I’m in the ring.”

He paused, thinking. “And even then, I save that for when the other guy decides to fuck around and find out.”

Snare tilted his head, craning his neck to look up at him, his dark amber eyes eerily thoughtful as always. Even if Caliban was the only person who could really read the leucistic hare’s body language, K.O. just knew when he was being judged (whether it was in a playful manner or not).

“...Yeah, I’m not sure why I told you all that, either,” K.O. replied with a shrug. 

Sooner or later, everything was ready. 

K.O. reached over to set the knife down in the sink, then carefully lifted up the cutting board and strode out of the kitchen. Snare followed along, only to bury his nose in his bowl, nibbling at the mix of dark green the fighter dropped off.

K.O. carried on, soon marching up a narrow staircase that stood just across the hall from Caliban’s bedroom. 

This house’s second floor only had two rooms to offer: a tidy guest suite, and a surprisingly spacious office. K.O. entered the latter, setting the board of goodies down on a desk in one corner before surveying the cage that loomed in another. 

Where Snare’s hutch was wide enough to nearly take up half of Caliban’s living room, the enclosure that R.D. had set up for her rats was tall—topping four feet of wire-mesh, the metal framing of its sides hidden by smooth gray wood. Hell, K.O. would put money on this thing being intended for creatures like ferrets or chinchillas…but then, even the smallest animals needed way more space than what they were usually given in the pet stores. 

The cage’s interior was organized into five levels, all connected by little ramps. Judging by the little nametags that were attached to the corners of the tiers (HERBERT on the first tier, SURRIDGE on the second, MOREAU on the third, FORSYTHIA on the fourth, and PHIBES on the fifth at the very top), each one acted as a sort of bedroom for each of the rodents. 

“Hey, guys. I figured you’d like some snacks to start off the week,” K.O. greeted, leaning down and smiling as he peered through the mesh. Through all the bedding and tiny blankets and even tinier toys, several pairs of beady eyes peered back, each with a little pink nose that twitched curiously.

K.O. hovered by the desk, flipping through the notes that had been left for him. Once he got to a page labeled FEEDING, he took a moment to re-read: 

There’s a big bag of nutri-pellets in the cabinet by the cage; just one tablespoon in each bowl is enough per day. (Make sure to refill their water-bottles every morning.) Still, rats are big omnivores, so it’s best to give them a little extra variety 1–3 times per week.

Phibes likes apple slices (PEELED AND WITHOUT THE SEEDS)

Moreau likes thinly-chopped carrots (again, PEELED)

Surridge likes small cuts of pear and mango (if you didn’t already guess that they should be PEELED AND HAVE ANY SEEDS/PITS REMOVED…well, I’m not TOO disappointed, but still. You’re an adult, you should be able to see a pattern by now) 

Forsythia likes kale and spinach, judging by how many times he’s tried to sneak leaves out of Snare’s bowl (I know I was specific before, but please, PLEASE tell me that you won’t try to peel stuff like leaves)

Herbert likes cauliflower and broccoli (look, I’ll be very grateful if you follow my instructions, because that means you care about keeping my little guys healthy and happy…but if you seriously try to peel tiny trees, then I’ll have no choice but to tell Cal to keep an eye on you for a while)

Rats really only need protein on occasion. Too much in one sitting will just make them sick. So, if you think that they deserve a meatier treat, then it has to be something LEAN. There’s a container full of roast chicken in the fridge; these guys all love a thin slice of the breast or skin. (If you really want to go the extra mile, carve the bones out of the wings and break them in half. They’re perfect for gnawing habits, plus the marrow is a great source of vitamins and minerals.)

DO NOT FEED THEM ANY HUMAN FLESH. SNARE CAN ONLY PULL IT OFF BECAUSE HARES ARE NATURAL OPPORTUNISTS; THEY’RE BUILT TO SCAVENGE OFF OF LARGER PREDATORS WHEN THEY NEED TO. YES, WILD RATS CAN HANDLE THAT TYPE OF DIET, BUT THE DOMESTIC ONES JUST CAN’T.

Good luck, and thanks again for taking the time to look after everything! See you soon!

— R.D. & Cal

K.O. snorted; the letter was dripping with sarcasm, but he respected people who were so meticulous with their pets. It just meant that they cared.

Plus, it felt nice that he was trusted to help out with something like this; after all, it wasn’t like Caliban could afford to just drop Snare off at a boarding kennel, considering the hare’s special diet…

Each tier on the rat-cage had its own little door, which made it easier for him to drop off the right snacks into the right bowls. None of the rodents tried to scurry out or climb on this new person's arms, though they did approach to cautiously sniff at his hands. 

(Well, all but Moreau. He just squinted at K.O. with near-palpable suspicion. But then, Moreau only had three limbs—there was a stump where his right hind-leg should’ve been. So, it seemed he had every damn right to be a little withdrawn.)

Before he could try to pet any of them, however, a faraway noise caught his attention…

“...Murdock?” K.O. called, remembering exactly what he’d been up to before all this.

Murdock didn’t call back, either because he hadn’t heard his accomplice or was just intentionally ignoring him. 

K.O. chewed his lip, then closed the rat’s cage back up and headed back down the staircase.

All the while, that noise got somewhat louder and clearer, muffled yet echoing in a way that could only be caused by old concrete walls.

Once he’d returned to the first floor, he couldn’t help but smirk upon recognizing a string of very frustrated, very colorful words set in that familiar baritone. 

___

Blood was a fickle thing. 

On most occasions, Murdock enjoyed that fickleness. 

There were so many different ways that deep crimson juice could seep out of someone just depending on the angle of a laceration. 

Sometimes you had to make it all rush out and splatter all over the walls in a manner of minutes, other times you got a chance to stretch the bleeding out and watch a pool form on the floor, growing wider and deeper and darker. In any case, you never missed out on feeling the weight of your blade as it sank into flesh.

This current occasion, however, was not one of them. 

“Where is it?!” Murdock hissed to himself through clenched teeth, looming over the fresh cavity.

Despite his leather gloves, it was pretty damn obvious that his knuckles were turning white. He gripped the surgical tweezer he’d found in Caliban’s toolcase, jabbing it back-and-forth, side-to-side in the crevices of the target’s intestines. 

Crimson droplets came spraying out, though the stains they left weren't really noticeable, considering the deep shade of currant that colored his favorite turtleneck. On the other hand, the specks that landed on his black-tinted shades stuck out in a very sinister way.

“Where is it, where is it, where in the flying FUCK—”

“Where’s what?” A familiar voice interjected, accompanied by a hollow chorus of footsteps that were growing closer and closer. 

Murdock paused, straightening his back and glancing over his shoulder just in time to see K.O.’s thin-yet-muscular form descending the hidden staircase (or, one of many hidden staircases, to be precise. Almost every one of his peers had a den like this). 

The Pentas Family’s resident illegal-fighting champion wandered over to stand by his side, glancing down at the mess on the block kitchen island that, thanks to Caliban, doubled as a human-disassembly station. 

Murdock heaved a sigh, finally loosening his grasp on the tweezers. It was a bit surprising that he hadn’t broken them just yet.

 “...I found some jewelry on this guy last-minute,” he explained, nodding to the target’s face (which was, interestingly enough, still twitching and twisting in agony. The strangled sobs had multiplied and even gotten a little louder). “I was just taking it off to put in its own jar or whatever for selling later on—”

“But you dropped it and can’t find it now?” K.O. finished, not bothering to hide the mirth that started to flicker in his blue eyes.  

“I know where it is!” Murdock snapped. He then pointed at the target’s guts, speaking quickly before his friend could remind him of the aggravated mantra he’d been spitting out just a few seconds ago, “I saw where it landed! But when I tried to grab it, it somehow slipped again and sank in deeper.”

K.O. sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, brow furrowing with sympathy. He moved to stand on the other side of the island, opposite of Murdock, before squinting down at the body cavity. “Well, what does this jewelry look like?”

“A butterfly. A really small, golden charm with diamonds studded on the wings,” Murdock answered, nearly bumping heads with the fighter as he leaned over again, pushing the tweezers back down into the tangle of bloody, organic tubes. 

“...Huh. So this guy technically has a physical butterfly in his stomach,” K.O. announced, chuckling as he fidgeted with the pockets of his amaranth-dyed jeans. “Cal would’ve loved this.” 

“Don’t remind me,” Murdock warned, trying his damnedest not to imagine all the puns Caliban would use if he’d been present to see the incident at hand.

(Even if he and the cannibal in question had agreed on plenty other examples of taunting terminology from the criminal underground.)

The cage-lights that adorned the tunnels’ old walls every twenty-or-so feet were dim and flickering. But their near-ancient glow still glinted off of blades quite nicely. 

Both Murdock’s dagger and Caliban’s cleaver had seemed to sear through the air as they took turns slashing at their victim, circling around him not unlike a pair of sharks. 

The intruder had collapsed against the old, rusty railing, crying out in pain and probably regretting every choice he’d made that led to sneaking down here.

Murdock tsk-tsked, kneeling down to snatch a handful of the intruder’s hair, forcing him to face him. “Hey, that’s what attempted sabatoge gets you. Especially when you think you can just break into our dens.” 

He’d traced the very tip of his dagger along the intruder’s cheek, drinking up some more fear before he pressed it into skin. He only used enough force to bring out a little bead of dark red; this show of restraint really didn’t mean much, considering the mess of blood and bruises that he and his accomplice had already inflicted on his head, his neck, his arms…

The bead in question soon turned into yet another thin line that ran down the man’s face, eventually merging with the gore that oozed from his busted lip.

“Wait!” Caliban had suddenly exclaimed, moving to kneel by the intruder’s side. “Wait-wait-wait, hold on!”

“The first couple ‘waits’ didn’t tip me off,” Murdock had snarked, though he did pause his movements. “Why? What’s the matter?”

Caliban grabbed hold of the intruder now bloodstained shirt-collar, partially lifting him up. He then gestured to all the fresh cuts marring flesh. “All these wounds are hungry, ‘Doc! Can’t you see that?” The mask of faux-concern slipped, sadistic glee worming its way back into his expression. “We’ve gotta feed them some SALT!”

The intruder squirmed, wretching and gibbering and shaking his head as he tried to escape. But it was no use; pretty much all the air had been knocked right out of him. And even if it hadn’t been, the collective pain from all those bleeding gashes would’ve slowed him down.

“Oh...Oh!” Murdock crowed, nodding as realization came along. He reached over to clap his accomplice on the shoulder. “Good point, Cal! I can’t believe I didn’t think of that!” 

Caliban smiled cheekily. “That’s why we have these little collabs, isn’t it?” 

Murdock got to his feet, pacing along the old platform to peer at the intentionally-place graffiti on the walls. “We shouldn’t be too far from your den—” He then stooped back down, trapping one of the intruder’s arms in a vice-like grip. “C’mon, let’s get to it!” 

“Right!” Caliban cackled, taking the intruder’s other arm as he stood. 

With that, the duo had started dragging their victim along to his fate, eager to test out yet another interrogation tactic. 

“You really think you’ll have enough salt for this?” Murdock wondered aloud, glancing back at the struggling mess of a man who decided to fuck around and was now finding out. 

“I mean, I should,” Caliban replied. His brow furrowed as he stared at the floor, probably going through a silent checklist. 

A few seconds later, he simply shrugged, a sharp, toothy grin etching its way across his features as he looked back at Murdock. “But even if I don’t…I did put a gallon-jug of vinegar under the sink just yesterday.”

“Ooh,” Murdock hummed, offering an unhinged smirk of his own. “Yeah, that’d do the trick for sure!”

Caliban nodded. “Plus, it won’t make much of a dent in the skin’s price, as long as I wash it during the harvest…” 

Murdock’s free hand moved to tug at the edges, trying to give the tweezers in his other hand a bit more leeway. Blood pooled up and out due to the pressure. 

K.O., meanwhile, fidgeted in place, watching and thinking. “...Remember, skin goes for ten bucks per square-inch. So, if some sections need to be cut smaller because they’re too stretched—”

“I’M AWARE,” Murdock replied, raising his voice to be heard over the truly sickening (one might even say gut-wrenching) song of squelches caused by all the friction. 

The target made a feeble attempt to raise his voice, but that didn't change the fact that he was well past forming coherent sentences anymore. 

K.O. raised an eyebrow at this, shock beginning to ripple in his eyes.. “Hang on—is he still alive?”

Murdock, taking another quick, angry little break, shrugged. “In a way.”

“But—but I broke his neck not even an hour ago!” K.O. protested, moving to gape at the target’s twisting face. “He fell like a soggy trash-bag! Like a ragdoll! He hasn’t moved at all since before we even got here!”

“Broken necks aren’t always fatal,” Murdock mentioned, digging through the fleshy maze yet again. “Sometimes it just damages the spinal nerves enough to cause paralysis. Maybe you just didn’t twist it enough.”

K.O. hummed at this, surprise warping into morbid fascination. For whatever reason, he didn’t reach around the target’s neck to finish the job just yet. Instead, he went back to glancing in mild, semi-snarky awe at the sheer force of Murdock’s pissed-off snarl and forehead-creases. 

Murdock was too focused to see how the fighter sidled around the island to stand just behind him.

That changed with a quickness as he felt a weight materialize on both of his shoulders. 

“Here, you look stressed—”

“What makes you say THAT?” Murdock growled, refusing to look away from his work. 

“—let me give you a shoulder-rub,” K.O. continued, his tone of voice just singing about the shit-eating grin that was growing on his face. 

“I don’t want one,” Murdock argued, rolling his shoulders with much more force than strictly necessary. “Do not touch me, do not touch me, do not touch me, do nOT TOUCH ME!”

“Alright, alright,” K.O. relented…but only for a few seconds. “I can still help—what if I just put my arms under yours?” 

 “YOU FUCKING GET THOSE OUT FROM UNDER ME!” Murdock snapped, shifting in place to fend off his accomplice's arms before they could brush against his sides. 

K.O. snickered, finally holding his hands up in defeat. He moved into Murdock's field of view again, coming to stand by the target’s head. 

For the next moment or two, there was somewhat blissful silence. 

“What if you just left it like this?” K.O. piped up again. “It might give some extra edge to the sale. Kinda like one of those raffle games.”

“Raffle games?” Murdock echoed, incredulous.

“Yeah! Y’know, the whole ‘Guess How Many Beads Are In This Jar! The closest number gets a price!’ thing.”  K.O. spread his hands in a lame gesture. “Maybe you could squish these intestines into a jar with the butterfly still inside, then just tell potential buyers about it! No way there won’t be at least one person desperate enough for gold that they’ll dig through cold guts.”

Although that idea did sound pretty funny, Murdock still shook his head, snorting. “The average set of intestines are about sixteen feet long when they’re stretched out. Good luck finding a jar big enough to hold all that and keep it sealed without cracking.”

With another forceful sigh, Murdock threw the tweezers down. He took a second to tug at his gloves, then flexed his fingers…and plunged his hands into the target’s intestines. 

Full. 

Submersion.

While he didn’t gag or retch or react in the way any normal person would, Murdock still couldn’t help but cringe a little. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually handled entrails like this—he’d forgotten just how thick and dense they were. 

The hitman set his jaw and kept at it, glaring at nothing in particular as his fingers became lost in the maze of gore. Even with his gloves on, he’d still be able to feel the sharp, carefully-sculpted edges of that stupid godddamn butterfly charm…once his hands actually came across it, that is. 

More wheezing, unintelligible sobs came leaking out through the target’s teeth. 

“Calm, cool, collected…” K.O. taunted, drumming his fingers on the target’s forehead. “…I’m gonna frame you for tax-fraud…”

Murdock didn’t pause, didn’t look over at the fighter…but he just could stop himself from sputtering a small, low, flabbergasted chuckle at such a random comment. 

He didn’t see the way K.O.’s lips curled into a tiny, genuine smile. 

Whether or not the target was still in the headspace to be worrying about a threat to his taxes (or the current state of his organs), he still kept on wailing, kept on choking.

Kept on being an annoyance. (A much more macabre annoyance than average, but an annoyance all the same.) 

“This FUCKING GUY won’t shut THE FUCK UP,” Murdock seethed.

He finally looked back up from his work, locking eyes with K.O. as he used one very messy hand to toss his thumb over his shoulder. “Get a towel��get some paper-towels, get some water. We’re gonna FUCKING waterboard this guy.”

Now it was K.O.’s turn to sputter with disbelieving giggles. But he certainly didn’t hesitate. He raced over to the utility sink in the corner, returning seconds later with a wad of dripping paper-towels. 

“Next time you TALK—” K.O. started to warn…only for the target to let out another choked scream. The fighter pursed his lips and slammed the soaked towels down onto the target’s face.

…It actually ended up muffling the ensuing cries even more than expected. 

And that got a genuine belly-laugh out of Murdock. Maybe not enough to stave off an impending migraine, but something was better than nothing. 

“You’ll be sleeping with the fishes!” K.O. chortled, pressing his handed on top of the mess to keep everything in place. “You’ll be sleeping with the goddamn FISHES!”

More time passed by; now that all those distracting screams had been taken down a notch, things seemed to move a bit faster.

The metallic stench of still-warm blood hung heavy around the duo. Had the air been any hotter down here, it might’ve grown thick enough for them to almost taste the plasma as they breathed

“Let’s be honest here,” K.O. said, shifting in place and lifting his hands away from the target’s face (somehow, the paper-towel-gag didn’t slide off to plop down on the floor). “Can you actually get that butterfly out?” 

 “I am so close—I just felt it, I almost had it out, but it just clipped the edge of the—” Murdock took a deep breath, turning his head to crack his neck a few times, relieving some of the tension that had gathered there. “I swear to God, I can get this!”

“Alright, alright! If that’s the case, then it might not be as deep as it was before!” K.O. moved closer, leaning down toward the cavity. He reached over to pluck up the tweezers, then started gingerly probing at the entrails. 

Murdock’s own hands pulled back, soon coming to rest on his temples in a noble attempt to keep his brain from eroding through his skull. He barely even noticed how the blood smeared against his skin.

A hollow, aggravated, exhausted groan poured out of his lungs. For a few seconds, he simply took a turn to watch. 

Evidently, the powder-keg of K.O.’s patience had an even shorter fuse than Murdock’s. 

In one swift, fluid movement, he tossed the tweezers away, one hand curling in a fist that plummeted against the surface of the guts with a wet, smacking thump! 

And then…THEN…

Time seemed to slow down. 

Whatever primordial entity that potentially ruled over this cruel universe finally decided to say, “Why not?” 

Because as the intestines quivered from the strike, a tiny, glinting projectile suddenly erupted out from the very center of the mess, arching in the air before landing just a few inches away from the cavity with an anticlimactic plink!

The two mobsters both froze in place, their mouths dropping in near-perfect unison. 

The next moment almost felt like a whole hour as they stared down at the golden, diamond-encrusted, butterfly-shaped trophy. 

K.O. was the first to break the stunned silence, throwing his head back and practically screaming with laughter. Murdock followed suite, his own guffaw starting out with a wheeze that built up in volume over the course of a few seconds. 

“Did you see that?!” Murdock just barely managed to ask, still wracked with breathless cackles. 

“How did that just happen?!” K.O. asked, getting a rare pass for answering a question with another question.

___

[You actually read this far? Wow, that’s dedication! And as a thank you…here’s a little hint at what’s to come, featuring a couple more fanmade characters: my second-ever CrankEgo, and my first ever SepticEgo! To learn more about them, go here. I just feel like the ever-obscure EldritchPlier needs another rival besides my own LeviathanPat. And why shouldn’t that new rival come with his own semi-cultist companion like Cruz?]

(One more thing: if you’d like to use distorted fonts like the one you’ll be seeing in this story, go here.)

The Oozing Crown hadn’t even been closed for a minute. 

Outside, the electric sign at the top of the building hadn’t even been turned off yet. 

It still glowed with an eerie light that somehow still managed to be welcoming. Its neon wires all worked together to portray a grinning, emerald-green skull with hot-pink liquid fountaining out of a jagged hole in its parietal. 

One Moses Norbert had just barely finished cleaning the main floor, securing the rows upon rows of bottles behind the counter. Just as he reached to lock up the shelves for the night, a very distorted, very familiar voice came pouring into his mind like molten lead.

“𝗕⃥𝘖̸𝗜⃥𝘓̸ 𝘜̸𝗣⃥ 𝗦⃥𝘖̸𝗠⃥𝘌̸ 𝘝̸𝗔⃥𝘕̸𝗜⃥𝘓̸𝗟⃥𝘈̸ 𝘊̸𝗢⃥𝘒̸𝗘⃥ 𝗔⃥𝘕̸𝗗⃥ 𝗠⃥𝘐̸𝗫⃥ 𝗜⃥𝘛̸ 𝘞̸𝗜⃥𝘛̸𝗛⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗘⃥ 𝗝⃥𝘈̸𝗣⃥𝘈̸𝗡⃥𝘌̸𝗦⃥𝘌̸ 𝘞̸𝗛⃥𝘐̸𝗦⃥𝘒̸𝗘⃥𝘠̸.⃥ 𝗜⃥𝘛̸'⃥𝘚̸ 𝘎̸𝗢⃥𝘕̸𝗡⃥𝘈̸ 𝘉̸𝗘⃥ 𝗔⃥ 𝗟⃥𝘖̸𝗡⃥𝘎̸ 𝘕̸𝗜⃥𝘎̸𝗛⃥𝘛̸.⃥”

All the time Moses had spent running the surface-level of this business granted him the power to find the coveted bottle of Suntory Toki just by muscle-memory. He moved into the kitchen, grabbing a can of Coca-Cola Vanilla from the fridge before setting a pan atop the stove.

 “Oh, yeah? Praytell why? Cosmic seasonal depression beyond my comprehension?” Moses asked, chuckling to try and hide the way he stiffened. 

It wasn’t at all uncommon for the creature he’d learned to call Septic to ask for some special drinks once the brewery-and-distillery-combo was devoid of all mortal witnesses. 

Hell, jokes connecting his drinking habits to the fact that his otherworldly tone was somehow laced with an honest-to-God Irish accent had been a big part of his and Moses’ bonding in the past. 

But this was…different. 

It wasn’t like Moses was a stranger to adding all sorts of distinctly un-kosher things to soda or alcohol by now, but being asked to boil beverages was never the best omen.

“𝗦⃥𝘖̸𝗠⃥𝘌̸𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗜⃥𝘕̸𝗚⃥ 𝗟⃥𝘐̸𝗞⃥𝘌̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘈̸𝗧⃥,” Septic snickered, though his pitch was still obviously weighed down by something else. “𝗡⃥𝘖̸𝗪⃥.̸ 𝘛̸𝗘⃥𝘓̸𝗟⃥ 𝗠⃥𝘌̸ 𝘞̸𝗛⃥𝘈̸𝗧⃥ 𝗠⃥𝘖̸𝗡⃥𝘛̸𝗛⃥ 𝗜⃥𝘛̸ 𝘐̸𝗦⃥.̸”

Despite the fact that no-one was actually around to see his expression, Moses raised an incredulous eyebrow (besides, he knew Septic could see far, far beyond the barriers around them).

“October,” he answered. 

“𝗬⃥𝘌̸𝗣⃥.̸ 𝘈̸𝗡⃥𝘋̸ 𝘞̸𝗛⃥𝘈̸𝗧⃥'̸𝗦⃥ 𝗢⃥𝘊̸𝗧⃥𝘖̸𝗕⃥𝘌̸𝗥⃥ 𝗙⃥𝘈̸𝗠⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥𝘚̸ 𝘍̸𝗢⃥𝘙̸?⃥”

“…Halloween,” Moses continued, occasionally stirring the soda as it started to heat up and bubble.

“𝗖⃥𝘖̸𝗥⃥𝘙̸𝗘⃥𝘊̸𝗧⃥𝘈̸𝗠⃥𝘜̸𝗡⃥𝘋̸𝗢⃥.” A chorus of almost porcelain clicks echoed through Moses’ head; Septic must have been gnashing his multitude of sharp, jagged teeth together in contemplation. “𝗔⃥𝘕̸𝗗⃥ 𝗛⃥𝘈̸𝗟⃥𝘓̸𝗢⃥𝘞̸𝗘⃥𝘌̸𝗡⃥ 𝗛⃥𝘈̸𝗦⃥ 𝗔⃥ 𝗕⃥𝘐̸𝗧⃥ 𝗔⃥ 𝗕⃥𝘈̸𝗗⃥ 𝗥⃥𝘌̸𝗣⃥ 𝗪⃥𝘐̸𝗧⃥𝘏̸ 𝘔̸𝗢⃥𝘙̸𝗧⃥𝘈̸𝗟⃥ 𝗖⃥𝘙̸𝗔⃥𝘊̸𝗞⃥𝘗̸𝗢⃥𝘛̸𝗦⃥ 𝗪⃥𝘏̸𝗢⃥'̸𝗩⃥𝘌̸ 𝘎̸𝗢⃥𝘛̸ 𝘛̸𝗢⃥𝘖̸ 𝘔̸𝗨⃥𝘊̸𝗛⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘐̸𝗠⃥𝘌̸ 𝘖̸𝗡⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗘⃥𝘐̸𝗥⃥ 𝗛⃥𝘈̸𝗡⃥𝘋̸𝗦⃥.̸ 𝗜⃥𝘍̸ 𝘠̸𝗢⃥𝘜̸𝗥⃥ 𝗣⃥𝘈̸𝗦⃥𝘛̸ 𝘝̸𝗘⃥𝘕̸𝗧⃥𝘐̸𝗡⃥𝘎̸-⃥𝘚̸𝗘⃥𝘚̸𝗦⃥𝘐̸𝗢⃥𝘕̸𝗦⃥ 𝗔⃥𝘙̸𝗘⃥ 𝗔⃥𝘕̸𝗬⃥𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘐̸𝗡⃥𝘎̸ 𝘛̸𝗢⃥ 𝗚⃥𝘖̸ 𝘉̸𝗬⃥.̸.⃥.̸”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Moses agreed, his brow furrowing at memories of stupid Karens who had ruined one night of trick-or-treating too many when he’d still been just a little kid.

The cola had reached a rolling boil by now, so he turned the burner off and fetched a glass from one of the cabinets. After pouring a little more than a shot’s worth of the whiskey, he carefully upended the steaming pan over it. 

And as the concoction practically mixed itself together, realization came in. “…Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” 

“𝗜⃥ 𝗗⃥𝘖̸𝗡⃥'̸𝗧⃥ 𝗞⃥𝘕̸𝗢⃥𝘞̸,⃥ 𝗔⃥𝘔̸ 𝘐̸?⃥” Septic snorted, an eye-roll evident in his pitch.

Moses crossed the kitchen, rooting through the storage closet tucked into one corner. It took little time for him to find a wooden chest stashed on the highest shelf, well out of view to any strangers who might’ve come in here for whatever reason. He opened it up, fishing out the mask he’d been given years ago, as part of the pact he’d made when he was first brought to the apartment on top of the brewery’s roof. 

The mask was an amalgamation of leather and metal. It almost resembled one of those typical, vintage gas masks…that is, if those pieces of old-fashioned gear were designed with six spindly copper blades attached to the base of the mouth-guard by a set of rivets. It resembled the mandibles of some kind of hellish, overgrown insect. 

And that wasn’t mentioning the mask’s eyes. Yes, it had a primary pair for the wearer to actually, y’know, see through. But it had many, many more, all scattered about the top, having apparently been welded onto the mask’s dome. Right now they were a deep, rich shade of cobalt, though they would sometimes change color depending on what type of ritual he participated in. 

Even though he’d signed a (relatively) mutually-beneficial contract years ago, Moses was still somewhat at risk. 

Trees emitted oxygen, outer abominations emitted surreal terror that could physically manifest in a number of nasty ways. 

(And that included the whole “names have power” schtick. The last part of Septic’s name was the only part that could be spoken by a mortal without causing their vocal cords to explode into tiny, sinewy pillars of thorns from the inside-out. Despite all the adjustment Moses had gone through, the last time he’d dared try to say Septic’s full title, he’d ended up crying bloody slugs for the rest of the night.)

(...Plus, having a special mask for stuff like this gave way for the perfect excuse to make jokes about using protection during rituals. Oh sure, you could say that you wouldn’t jump at an opportunity like that if you found yourself working with a sentient crime against nature…but then your mother would’ve raised a fucking liar.)

Pulling the mask over his head, Moses stepped out of the storage closet and knelt down in the center of the kitchen; the cellar door was well-camoflauged, topped off with a slab of the same material as the floor in here, but he knew how to find the right edges. 

Like some kind of weird, reverse murphy-bed, the door glided up and open, revealing a short steel stair-unit.

With that, Moses grabbed the freshly-brewed beverage and headed down. 

As usual, the basement was dark, but the mask helped Moses’ eyes to adjust quickly. It was also much, much bigger than the brewery’s main floor; his footsteps reverberated as he paced along an industrial catwalk that overlooked all the machinery down here. But then, most of that stuff was attached to the walls, not taking up too much space. 

No, what really needed accommodation were the tanks—a group of seven, to be exact. Six were positioned by the sides, split into two groups of three. They were each about eight feet tall, each painstakingly crafted from silvery metal, each able to brew or distill about a hundred barrels’ worth of product. 

And yet, none of them could really compare to the seventh tank.

It stood before the rest at the very head of the room, looming at fourteen feet. It boasted a shiny copper material…though, you couldn’t really tell whenever Septic was active.

As Moses descended yet another metallic staircase and approached, a bright glow sparked to life inside the seventh tank, casting the room in a dark-yet-vibrant shade of green that silently screamed with toxicity. 

Moses’ shadow stretched along the floor behind him as halted just a few feet away from the radioactive-looking vessel. The source of that glow rose up, floating in the center and not even having to wade closer to rest his hands—or, more precisely, his clutches of talons—against the tank’s foremost inner wall. 

Even though Septic’s outline was blurry, it was still easy to see the several eyes scattered about his torso in arms. They came in a variety of shapes and sizes, all glowing and rolling around in their misplaced sockets. A mane of long, dark hair twisted through the liquid, the movement looking similar to trapped, spasming eels.

The tank’s hatch (which nearly scraped against the ceiling) popped open with a pressurized hsssssss. Clouds of discolored steam billowed into the air, along with a smell that was reminiscent of geyser pits…that is, if the natural sulfur came with a trace of sweetness that could only ever be produced by rotting flesh. 

Moses held the glass forward, prompting Septic to reach up. One of his arms gave off a chorus of pops and cracks as it protruded from the hatch, stretching far too long far too quickly.

The bones in his translucent skin shuddered and warped, his translucent skin glistening. Droplets slid off, smoking as they met their end against the concrete floor.

Then, just a millisecond after his claws wrapped around the glass, the limb retracted back into the tank with an echoing splash!

Septic’s outline craned his neck to greedy gulp down the casual elixir. Once the glass was drained, he opened wide, causing the strands of torn flesh along his cheeks to stretch even further.

The liquid inside the tank did nothing to muffle the cacophony of crunching and shattering that would’ve made much more sense echoing up from the depth of a malfunctioning garbage disposal.  

Septic then let out a sigh, rolling his shoulders. “𝗔⃥𝘏̸,⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗔⃥𝘛̸ 𝘎̸𝗢⃥𝘌̸𝗦⃥ 𝗗⃥𝘖̸𝗪⃥𝘕̸ 𝘚̸𝗠⃥𝘖̸𝗢⃥𝘛̸𝗛⃥.̸ 𝘊̸𝗔⃥𝘓̸𝗠⃥𝘚̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘌̸ 𝘚̸𝗛⃥𝘈̸𝗞⃥𝘌̸𝗦⃥.̸” He nodded in Moses’ direction, pupil dilating in the eye on the center of his chest. “𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗔⃥𝘕̸𝗞⃥𝘚̸.⃥”

“No problem,” Moses replied, nodding back. He started rocking back and forth on his heels. “So, what’s this Halloween ritual about? If you’re already taking the atrocity-equivelent of blood-pressure medicine, then it’s gotta do with something bigger than the usual stuff.” 

Despite his new anxiety, Moses couldn’t help but snicker to himself. The usual stuff he’d just mentioned involved harvesting souls and emotions from the people he could get away with knocking out and dragging down here to meet a very gruesome fate inside any one of the tanks.

(And he didn’t even really have to clean them out afterwards! Thanks to Septic’s power, the mess pretty much always just dissolved out of existence once the task was complete! How lucky was that?!)

“𝗜⃥𝘛̸'⃥𝘚̸ 𝘕̸𝗢⃥𝘛̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘌̸ 𝘙̸𝗜⃥𝘛̸𝗨⃥𝘈̸𝗟⃥ 𝗜⃥𝘛̸𝗦⃥𝘌̸𝗟⃥𝘍̸,⃥ 𝗘⃥𝘟̸𝗔⃥𝘊̸𝗧⃥𝘓̸𝗬⃥.̸ 𝘐̸𝗧⃥'̸𝗦⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗘⃥ 𝗚⃥𝘜̸𝗬⃥𝘚̸ 𝘞̸𝗘⃥'̸𝗟⃥𝘓̸ 𝘕̸𝗘⃥𝘌̸𝗗⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘖̸ 𝘏̸𝗘⃥𝘓̸𝗣⃥ 𝗢⃥𝘜̸𝗧⃥ 𝗪⃥𝘐̸𝗧⃥𝘏̸ 𝘐̸𝗧⃥.”  Septic clicked an elastic, forked tongue. He slowly spun around in the tank, almost like the stuff inside lava lamps. 

Moses tilted his head to the side, curiosity worming its way into his head. “Wait…this’ll call for more people than just us? For guys like…like you?”

Septic nodded; despite his obvious apprehension, he still bared his fangs in a grin at the inquinsitiveness. “𝗬⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥'̸𝗟⃥𝘓̸ 𝘗̸𝗥⃥𝘖̸𝗕⃥𝘈̸𝗕⃥𝘓̸𝗬⃥ 𝗛⃥𝘈̸𝗩⃥𝘌̸ 𝘛̸𝗢⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘈̸𝗞⃥𝘌̸ 𝘈̸ 𝘍̸𝗘⃥𝘞̸ 𝘗̸𝗢⃥𝘛̸𝗜⃥𝘖̸𝗡⃥𝘚̸ 𝘖̸𝗡⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘖̸𝗣⃥ 𝗢⃥𝘍̸ 𝘞̸𝗔⃥𝘙̸𝗜⃥𝘕̸𝗚⃥ 𝗬⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥𝘙̸ 𝘔̸𝗔⃥𝘚̸𝗞⃥.̸ 𝗕⃥𝘜̸𝗧⃥ 𝗬⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥'̸𝗥⃥𝘌̸ 𝘖̸𝗡⃥ 𝗠⃥𝘠̸ 𝘛̸𝗨⃥𝘙̸𝗙⃥,̸ 𝘕̸𝗢⃥𝘛̸ 𝘛̸𝗢⃥ 𝗠⃥𝘌̸𝗡⃥𝘛̸𝗜⃥𝘖̸𝗡⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗔⃥𝘛̸ 𝘋̸𝗘⃥𝘈̸𝗟⃥ 𝗢⃥𝘍̸ 𝘖̸𝗨⃥𝘙̸𝗦⃥.̸ 𝘚̸𝗢⃥,̸ 𝘠̸𝗢⃥𝘜̸ 𝘚̸𝗛⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥𝘓̸𝗗⃥ 𝗕⃥𝘌̸ 𝘗̸𝗥⃥𝘌̸𝗧⃥𝘛̸𝗬⃥ 𝗦⃥𝘈̸𝗙⃥𝘌̸ 𝘍̸𝗢⃥𝘙̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘌̸ 𝘔̸𝗢⃥𝘚̸𝗧⃥ 𝗣⃥𝘈̸𝗥⃥𝘛̸.”

Moses hummed at this. Yeah, there was still a lot of foreboding that came with the statement…but already had bragging rights for working with a cosmic horror! And soon he’d get to work with even more?! 

There was no way anyone else’s upcoming Halloween plans could compare to his. No. Fucking. Way.

“𝗗⃥𝘖̸𝗡⃥'̸𝗧⃥ 𝗚⃥𝘌̸𝗧⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘖̸𝗢⃥ 𝗘⃥𝘟̸𝗖⃥𝘐̸𝗧⃥𝘌̸𝗗⃥,” Septic warned, having clearly both seen and felt the rising adrenaline. “𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗘⃥𝘚̸𝗘⃥ 𝗚⃥𝘜̸𝗬⃥𝘚̸ 𝘈̸𝗥⃥𝘌̸ 𝘚̸𝗢⃥𝘔̸𝗘⃥ 𝗢⃥𝘍̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘌̸ 𝘗̸𝗘⃥𝘛̸𝗧⃥𝘐̸𝗘⃥𝘚̸𝗧⃥ 𝗦⃥𝘖̸𝗡⃥𝘚̸ 𝘖̸𝗙⃥ 𝗕⃥𝘐̸𝗧⃥𝘊̸𝗛⃥𝘌̸𝗦⃥ 𝗜⃥'̸𝗩⃥𝘌̸ 𝘌̸𝗩⃥𝘌̸𝗥⃥ 𝗠⃥𝘌̸𝗧⃥.”

“...How the hell can I not get excited at a concept like that?!” Moses asked. “If human drama manages to be so weirdly entertaining, then eldritch drama must be even wilder!”

“𝗘⃥𝘟̸𝗔⃥𝘊̸𝗧⃥𝘓̸𝗬⃥,” Septic agreed with a sardonic chuckle. “𝗟⃥𝘖̸𝗢⃥𝘒̸,⃥ 𝗜⃥ 𝗞⃥𝘕̸𝗢⃥𝘞̸ 𝘐̸ 𝘚̸𝗛⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥𝘓̸𝗗⃥ 𝗘⃥𝘟̸𝗣⃥𝘓̸𝗔⃥𝘐̸𝗡⃥ 𝗔⃥ 𝗕⃥𝘐̸𝗧⃥ 𝗠⃥𝘖̸𝗥⃥𝘌̸,⃥ 𝗕⃥𝘜̸𝗧⃥ 𝗜⃥ 𝗡⃥𝘌̸𝗘⃥𝘋̸ 𝘛̸𝗢⃥ 𝗚⃥𝘌̸𝗧⃥ 𝗠⃥𝘖̸𝗩⃥𝘐̸𝗡⃥𝘎̸ 𝘐̸𝗙⃥ 𝗜⃥ 𝗪⃥𝘈̸𝗡⃥𝘛̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘌̸ 𝘈̸𝗥⃥𝘙̸𝗔⃥𝘕̸𝗚⃥𝘌̸𝗠⃥𝘌̸𝗡⃥𝘛̸𝗦⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘖̸ 𝘎̸𝗢⃥ 𝗥⃥𝘐̸𝗚⃥𝘏̸𝗧⃥.̸” 

He paused, diving down for a few seconds before floating closer to the top of the tank. “.⃥.̸.⃥𝘈̸𝗡⃥𝘋̸,⃥ 𝗙⃥𝘙̸𝗔⃥𝘕̸𝗞⃥𝘓̸𝗬⃥,̸ 𝘐̸ 𝘋̸𝗢⃥𝘕̸'⃥𝘛̸ 𝘏̸𝗔⃥𝘝̸𝗘⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘖̸ 𝘌̸𝗫⃥𝘗̸𝗟⃥𝘈̸𝗜⃥𝘕̸ 𝘈̸𝗡⃥𝘠̸𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗜⃥𝘕̸𝗚⃥ 𝗜⃥𝘍̸ 𝘐̸ 𝘋̸𝗢⃥𝘕̸'⃥𝘛̸ 𝘞̸𝗔⃥𝘕̸𝗧⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘖̸.⃥ 𝗬⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥ 𝗝⃥𝘜̸𝗦⃥𝘛̸ 𝘕̸𝗘⃥𝘌̸𝗗⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘖̸ 𝘒̸𝗘⃥𝘌̸𝗣⃥ 𝗬⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥𝘙̸ 𝘏̸𝗘⃥𝘈̸𝗗⃥ 𝗨⃥𝘗̸.” 

“Nothing I haven’t done before,” Moses chuckled. He then glanced at the catwalk over his shoulder. “How long will you be gone?” 

Where some monsters were bound to follow rules that kept them out of places, Septic was restricted to being kept in a place. Ever since he’d had that chance-meeting with Moses, however, he’d had a counter to that pesky binding.

Granted, he could only stay out of his tank for a short time before being dragged back by whatever force was in there underneath him, but he wasn’t one to look a gift morbid-fascination-prone-human in the mouth. 

“𝗝⃥𝘜̸𝗦⃥𝘛̸ 𝘛̸𝗪⃥𝘖̸ 𝘋̸𝗔⃥𝘠̸𝗦⃥.̸ 𝘐̸ 𝘚̸𝗔⃥𝘝̸𝗘⃥𝘋̸ 𝘜̸𝗣⃥ 𝗦⃥𝘖̸𝗠⃥𝘌̸ 𝘌̸𝗫⃥𝘛̸𝗥⃥𝘈̸ 𝘌̸𝗡⃥𝘌̸𝗥⃥𝘎̸𝗬⃥ 𝗙⃥𝘖̸𝗥⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗜⃥𝘚̸.”

“Gotcha. Well…good luck with that, I guess.” Moses moved closer, soon climbing on the stepladder that was pretty much always propped up against Septic’s tank.

He held the hatch’s brass handle in a vice-like grip, knuckles very quickly turning white. He ever-so-slightly leaned to the side, bracing himself. “Ready when you are!”

The green light grew more vibrant, more poisonous.  

The tank began to rattle, to groan, to shudder in place. The unearthly liquid inside gurgled and churned as Septic’s form all but flooded out. 

Moses’ instincts screamed at him to lower his head and wrench his eyes shut…but everything was over before he even could. 

The glow had vanished, leaving the basement full of shadows, safe for the light that trickled down from the kitchen through that door-in-the-floor. 

The air was clear. 

Septic was gone…though, his voice was stubborn enough to stay for a few more seconds. “𝗦⃥𝘌̸𝗘⃥ 𝗬⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥ 𝗦⃥𝘖̸𝗢⃥𝘕̸!⃥”

“Likewise!” Moses called back. As he slid down the ladder and started making his way back toward the kitchen, he added, “…And bring me back a toy!”

[To be continued on Day 6...]

___

@sammys-magical-au

[crusty-chronicles]

The Moon and Sun (Big Sib Reader x Gon/Killua)

Chapter 4: The Winner and The Loser

Synopsis: Things go from bad to worse as Bisky is eliminated from the game. You watch helplessly from the sidelines as both boys are drained and injured. And just when you think you've won, Razor pulls the rug from under you with shocking revelations. 

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

Razor stared curiously at the injured young adult. Twice now, they thwarted his attack. And twice, they had been very successful. You weren't a normal nen user. Your speed was unusual and precise. Like you'd spent years perfecting it.

And your nen...

It wasn't Ko you used to deflect the ball. You weren't protecting your leg, you were amplifying the power already there.

A very interesting turn of events

But the most interesting part was despite the power you displayed, you were still holding back. Whether it was knowing or unknowingly.

And that made the game all the more fun.

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

"Estimating the ball's drop point, the game will continue. Team Gon has possession," #0 announced.

"And since Y/n is no longer able to play, they're out!"

"It's almost as if my leg's broken or something," you muttered, still bitter about the current situation. Bisky smiled down at you.

"Yeah, almost." Her tone shifted into a softer one. "You sure you'll be fine here on your own?"

You gave a huff of irritation.

"I don't have a choice, but if it makes you feel any better I can finally catch up on sleep."

You felt a thump on the back of your head.

"I'm being serious you dolt!"

Aww she cared.

"I'll be fine. Just make sure to keep Hisoka away from the boys." You did not trust that clown's intentions whatsoever.

"Of course. Just sit tight. Everything will be over soon, okay?"

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

With that, you were seated a little aways from the court. Razor's nen beasts had offered you crutches to use, but you didn't want to get up quite yet. You wouldn't put strain on yourself if you didn't have to.

Killua and Goreinu started off by passing the ball toward one another. It ended with Goreinu deciding to enact his revenge on Razor for traumatizing him.

"Just so you know, I'm the type to hold a grudge. It's time for payback, Razor!"

He threw the ball with all his might and switched his nen beasts around, along with the beefy ex-convict.

It was a miracle he caught Razor off guard, leading to the ex-convict getting hit square in the jaw.

"That's what you get! You mess with me and I'll take you out!" Goreinu sounded quite proud of himself.

But there was just one small hitch, the ball never got the chance to hit the floor.

You see, after the ball hit Razor, his nen beast #2 threw itself outside the court, and tossed the ball back inside to #13. And just to pour salt in the wound, #13 lobbed the ball back at Goreinu, knocking him out.

Goddamnit.

"Wait a second! What the heck was that!?!" Bisky exclaimed. Razor turned to her with his forever grin.

And he was so close too.

"There's no rule against passing the ball to an opponent. And if the ball had actually touched the floor, I'd be out now." He explained.

Then his eye caught yours.

"It's all about having the right speed for it."

You growled at his jab towards you.

He dismissed your agitation and prepared another throw.

There were only four players left: Gon, Killua, Bisky, and Hisoka. Whoever Razor had his sights on would surely be out, leaving your team with three. It was unfortunate you couldn't use Back.

"Tell me, who wants to be next!" And just like that, Razor loaded the ball with his murderous nen. It's trajectory heading straight for...

"KILLUA!" You screamed, immediately forcing yourself up despite the pain. Goddamnit, you weren't close enough to help.

Damnit Damnit Damnit.

It was last second the ball changed it's course and swerved left. It narrowly missed the small assassin, passing him and then passing Bisky. You held your breath as Hisoka barely dodged it by bending backwards.

Luck was not on the clown's side as #5 rebounded the ball and threw it back. Hisoka, having no other option, used his Bungee Gum to catch the ball. Just like with you, the force from Razor's nen pushed him back.

Miraculously, Hisoka kept his grip on the ball, actually catching it in full. As he stood straight his predatory nen skyrocketed.

With the adrenaline finally wearing off, you struggled to keep standing and hesitantly reached for the crutches. That was too close. Way too close.

"Biscuit is out!" #0 announced.

"Bullshit!" You shouted. She dodged it, you saw her. And your eyes never missed anything.

Bisky looked down at her dress. The corner of it was scorched, just like the back of your shirt.

"I'm out...So that means clothing counts as part of your body..." Bisky sounded pissed.

"Yes."

Then why did-?

Why the hell had-?

"My ass she's out! If we're going by that rulling then I should've been out the first turn!" It didn't make sense. And you'd be damned if you didn't argue your case.

"Why did I get to stay and Bisky doesn't!"

Razor's grin widened.

"Why? The first three turns we let you make mistakes. A way for the opposing team to get used to the rules. And an exception for you was made because your nen is very interesting. Amusing if you will."

Amusing

Like you were some toy.

How dare he have the nerve.

Your aura spiked momentarily, anger seeping through.

"What you have is a gift, little one. So very special and unique, even Father envies you. You're lucky he finds your tricks amusing enough to keep you close."

Then you remembered where you were. You needed to calm down or else everything you'd worked towards, everything you sacrificed would be for nothing. And everything you gained would be lost.

You could feel eyes on you as you finally relaxed, or became as relaxed as you could. You didn't look up yet, not wanting to see their reactions at you losing your cool. But you could feel them.

You could feel Razor's satisfaction from getting a rise out of you.

You could feel Bisky's concern as she approached your shaky state.

You could feel that damn clown's lust after finally getting a real look at your aura.

And you could feel the darkness from both boys leaking through. Combined it was angry and defensive.

You felt vulnerable.

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

If looks could kill, Razor would be dead ten times over with the way both boys were glaring at him.

In the six months they'd known you, you had not once lost your cool. Always staying level headed and cautious. Always having a watchful eye. Always remaining collected, even when something was bothering you.

But ever since Razor had entered the picture, your lazy demeanor shifted.

He made you scared.

He had hurt you.

And now he disrespected you.

The last and final straw that sealed the fate of this game.

"Gon," Killua addressed.

"Yeah?" The other boy answered, determination unwavering.

"Let's beat this guy no matter what."

"Not no matter what. We're not gonna let him off by getting a cheap win. You think he deserves that after what he just said to them? Well I don't. I'm gonna crush him and make him apologize. It's a promise. Are you with me?"

Gon's nen had spiked with his rant, letting Killua know he was going through with it whether or not the assassin was on board. But Killua didn't need much convincing anyways.

Friends stood up for each other. They protected each other. And they always looked out for each other.

"Always, one hundred percent. Now let's teach this bastard a lesson."

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

"You're not even playing anymore and he still taunts you. What a creep," Bisky commented from besides you. She had a hand on your back, giving your body more support.

You said nothing, eyes staring blankly at the court.

Bisky gave a sigh at your unresponsiveness.

"Thank you though, for trying to keep me in the game."

Still nothing, so she decided to redirect her attention to where you had been staring so intently.

"Are you worried about them, or just focusing on suppressing your aura?"

Not a word

With no other option, she waved a hand in front of your face to try and gain your attention.

You grabbed it and moved her hand to the side, unblocking your view of the court.

Then....

"Why are they so mad?" It was more of a whisper really. But at least you said something. Bisky assumed you were talking about the boys' shift in demeanor. The answer was obvious really, but perhaps the lack of sleep and constant stress had muddied the water for you.

"Watch and see."

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

Gon ordered Killua to the front of the court and had him hold the ball, knees braced for impact. Then Gon started pouring his nen into his fist.

His aura spiked erratically, resolve stronger than ever.

"Show me rock!"

So much determination

So much power it was almost scary.

"JAN-KEN-ROCK!"

He used as much force as his body could give and punched the ball straight from Killua's hands. It flung at such an incredible speed, you could barely keep up. It landed in the grasp of #13. But even though the nen beast had caught the ball, it didn't mean it could stop the sheer force from flinging it out of the court.

You let out sigh of relief. They'd done it. Smart kids. You just hoped Killua would hold out until they beat Razor.

Was it a good idea not to use Ko to protect his hands?

No, no it wasn't

But the alternative was having Gon's attack be reduced. And they were gonna need every ounce of power they had to win.

You would scold the both of them later.

"# 13 is out!" #0 announced. "Catching the ball while your body is touching outside the court is illegal. Possession goes to Team Gon."

Your teammates cheered besides you. And you wanted desperately to join in on the celebration, but the disappointment from Gon's aura held you back.

Why would he be-

"Damnit! That one wasn't nearly good enough! It needs to be strong enough to make them proud!"

Killua, who had just caught the ball with his injured hands, encouraged Gon further.

"Then don't hold back! They're watching, remember? So hit Razor with everything you got! Make him sorry like we promised!"

Gon smiled and nodded at him.

"You get it now?" Bisky asked you as Gon charged up.

You did.

You finally understood what had those boys so riled up. It was almost enough to make you cry. Almost.

Bisky then turned her attention to Razor.

"I think you picked the wrong sport. Nothing in the rules limits the amount of time he can take to build up his power. You also picked the wrong person to mess with. Might wanna get out of the way."

But Razor payed no mind to her warning. If anything his aura radiated more excitement.

"You're kidding me, right?" His aura output spiked to match Gon's.

Although you were scared for the boy, the resolve in both his eyes and aura gave you the reassurance he'd be okay. That he would beat Razor and then some.

And that small feeling of pride was back.

"Okay, show me rock!" His nen busted a few lights with it's power. Then it seemed to envelope the whole building with it's light.

"THIS IS FOR Y/N, RAZOR! TAKE THIS!!!!"

Gon's entire fist was aflame with power as he struck the ball with everything he had.

"JAN-KEN-ROCK!!!"

The ball went spiraling in a mass of flames. And despite the speed, the power, Razor's expression hadn't changed.

That damn bastard was still smiling.

You could see the quick flicker of doubt in his aura. Then it was gone as he braced his feet and hands to volley the ball.

He was the one skittering back this time, but like you, his determination hadn't wavered. His will to win was strong. Strong enough to stop the ball from spinning and bumping it upwards.

What was this dude made of???

"The game's not all about dodging and catching. I'm sure your friend over there knows it. And had they actually used Ko, they would've been completely fine."

You hated that he was right.

But whereas Razor planned to volley the ball from the start, you were in a frantic state trying to figure out how to protect your kid. Not exactly the time to stop and think about what you were doing.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by a panicked Gon.

"Wait!" He was waving his hands frantically at you. "Pretend you didn't see that Y/n!!! That was, uh, a test throw! That's it! A test throw! Next time for sure it'll-!" You cut him off with a soft laugh.

He really thought you would be disappointed after that? That you wouldn't be proud?

It was absurd really, to think someone could be so cruel as to not appreciate the sentiment. So you laughed. You laughed because Gon wasn't worried Razor had deflected the ball, he was worried that you'd be mad he missed.

"Don't worry about it kid. You did just fine." Then your eyes caught the small assassin's behind him. The one whose hands you were sure hurt like absolute hell. "Both of you."

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

With the ball still in the air, Hisoka took the opportunity to use his Bungee Gum to grab it. Because Razor was the last person the ball hit, he was out. Temporarily of course. Nothing would ever be that easy with him.

He used Back shortly after.

A damn shame.

Everyone on the court was either injured or drained. Tsezguerra seemed to realize this and called a timeout. Bisky helped you hoble over on your crutches to hear what he had to say.

"Gon, if just step outside of the court before you strike, I can hold the ball for you. Killua's hands must be totally ravaged by now. I sincerely doubt he's in any condition to hold the ball, or anything else."

It was a good idea in theory, but Tsezguerra failed to realize one thing. This match was personal for the two boys. It was their battle to fight. And no matter how much it hurt or how much energy was spent, they were gonna make sure they finished it.

"I know a way that'll allow me to protect my hands with a lightning fast coating of aura. I can hold the ball while you take out Razor from here. It's the only way that we can win this."

And just as you suspected, they'd denied Tsezguerra's help.

"We can't do that." Killua argued. Gon nodded his head in agreement. Tsezguerra floundered about for a rebuttal.

"But why not!?! What's the problem with that!?!"

"It feels like a copout. And we promised we'd get a real win." Killua glanced at your shattered leg.

But Tsezguerra wasn't done protesting.

"You're kidding, this is not the time to be thinking like that!" Then he doubled over as the pain from his ribs flared.

"Take it easy old man. You took a hit, you're only gonna make it feel worse. Besides, I'm feeling fine. I'm not hurt nearly as bad as to might think."

Killua's aura radiated deceit. He was lying, and as he looked over to you again, he knew that you knew.

"Show me your hands," Tsezguerra demanded.

Killua tensed.

"I said I'm fine." But nobody was buying it.

You looked away as Bisky tugged on his arm to reveal his hand. You'd seen enough carnage for today. But that didn't mean you couldn't sense the leftover nen covering his hands.

"Like I thought. I bet you he can't feel anything but pain. Y/n, right? Can't you talk some sense into him before he hurts himself worse?" Tsezguerra pleaded.

You leaned further on your crutches, circles under your eyes seeming to darken.

"I'm not his mom, and I'm not his dad. If he thinks he can take it, then who am I to stop him." You found the strength to look up, trying your best not to let your gaze linger on Killua's scorched hands.

For the first time in years, you flashed your real smile at the white haired boy. It was crooked and tired, but it was yours.

"What can I say, the kid's tough as nails. As long as he doesn't get himself killed from one of Razor's throws, it's not my problem. Right, gremlin?"

You could see blue eyes beaming up at you. Joy and relief flowing from his aura.

"Right! There you go, old man."

But Tsezguerra was still not assured.

"Gon, c'mon. You know you can't let him do this!"

And yet again, the boy in green refused.

"I'm sorry Mr. Tsezguerra, but I won't move out of the court. I need him to hold the ball for me. I can't do this without Killua." It was said with so much affirmation. So much so that it caught Killua off guard.

"If Biscuit or Hisoka held it, I probably couldn't use my full strength. There's only one reason I can focus everything I've got on hitting the ball... It's because I know Killua is the one holding it."

You softened as you saw both auras shift into contentment and trust.

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

Bisky was able to get her revenge on the nen beast that had gotten her out. She threw a curve ball at Razor, hitting #2 on it's foot.

The only one left was Razor, and unfortunately he had the ball. He watched in silent interest as Gon, Killua, and Hisoka came up with a plan.

Fate was not on your side as Razor called back his nen beast to him. His aura increasing as he absorbed them.

Your body trembled slightly at the power increase, not used to feeling so much bloodlust, nevertheless being able to see it swirl around him.

Then he poured all his nen into the ball, throwing it up afterwards.

Oh God.

He was gonna spike it.

You looked over frantically towards your side of the court. Your panic subsiding for a brief moment with protectiveness.

"WATCH THOSE DAMN HANDS HISOKA!!!!!!" You threatened.

He stood over your boys, with his arms outstretched in front of Gon. You realized shortly after that they were gonna try and catch Razor's throw. It didn't mean you trusted that damn clown to be so close to them.

Your panic was back as Razor slammed the ball straight towards them. All three of them immediately went skidding down the court, dust getting kicked up in the process.

You focused your eyes, seeing Gon using as much nen as he could to protect his hands from the ball's aura. You also saw Hisoka use his ability to make sure the ball wouldn't go bouncing off. And then your attention focused on the boy sandwiched between them. His aura being distributed perfectly between his back and legs.

The dust cleared and you let out the breath you'd been holding in. They were still inside the court.

"Hell yeah! Now don't miss this one, ya hear!?!?" You cheered. Look at you be all proud.

Both boys nodded over at you.

Gon and Killua got into the position from before, with Killua holding the ball and Gon throwing. Something seemed to snap inside the boy in green. His aura starting off small, then exploded out in a fiery glow. It radiated confidence. Like he knew this would be the the throw that defeated Razor.

He channeled all his power into his fist once more. If Killua's hands were damaged before, they'd be unusable when this was over.

Gon mumbled something to him before launching into his attack.

"Now, show me rock!" All at once a bright light filled the court. And the power you felt from it had you stumbling forward.

"JAN-KEN-ROCK!!!!!"

The force of it was stronger than anything Razor had produced. And one quick look over told you that he knew. For the first time since this game begun, Razor was nervous. You could see the gears turning in his head. Then relief as he seemed to come up with a solution.

He used every ounce of his nen to bump the ball, not upwards, but towards Gon.

You let out another involuntary screech.

"GET THE HELL OUT OF THE WAY!" You tripped over your crutches trying to get to him. You could feel him fading fast. He wasn't in any position to dodge, let alone move out of the way.

You couldn't hear anything else besides your heart thudding in your ears. You couldn't force your body up this time. You could only watch.

You could only stare in mortification as Gon passed out right on the court. The ball missing him by a hair. A small feeling of relief that it had passed him, but not enough to soothe your frantic mind. You tried and failed to get up on your feet.

Not seeing Hisoka catching the ball with his Bungee Gum. And certainly not seeing as he flung it back towards Razor, finally ending the game. You didn't even hear #0 announce the win.

All you could focus on was making sure Gon was okay.

So you stumbled and fell as you inched closer to the unconscious boy. Already on the ground, you pulled his head towards your lap to cradle.

"Kid! Hey kid! Get up okay!" You gently shook him. "Give me a sign, anything! Just wake up!"

After what seemed like an eternity (it was just a few seconds really) Gon opened his eyes, sitting up from his passed out position.

"Huh?" He said as he noticed your presence. "What happened? I missed it." You gave an airy laugh and pulled him into a hug. Relief that he was okay passed over, and you preceded to grab his shoulders and shake him.

"YOU ABSOLUTE IDIOT!!! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA THE EMOTIONAL ROLLERCOASTER YOU JUST PUT ME ON!!!! I THOUGHT YOU GOT HURT YOU BIG DUMMY!!!! AND WHAT IF YOU DID!?!? WHAT THEN, AM I SUPPOSED TO JUST MOVE ON WITH MY LIFE!?!? DON'T YOU EVER SCARE ME LIKE THAT AGAIN OR I'LL NEVER FORGIVE YOU!!! DO YOU HEAR ME!?!?!"

You stopped your shaking of the poor boy and let him regain his bearings.

"I'm sorry, it won't happen again." He said as his world continued to swirl.

You noticed Killua's presence from behind you and turned to face him.

"You really shouldn't shake him like that, you know," he commented.

You reached up and pulled him down, repeating your previous actions.

"DON'T YOU THINK I FORGOT ABOUT YOU!!!! HOW COULD YOU BE SO CARELESS!?!? YOU THINK JUST CUZ YOU WERE AN ASSASSIN THAT YOU'RE IMMUNE TO PAIN!?!? CUZ BIG NEWS DUMMY, YOU'RE NOT!!! WHY WOULD YOU EVER THINK IT WOULD BE A GOOD IDEA TO LEAVE YOUR HANDS UNGUARDED!?!? YOU THINK I LIKE WATCHING YOU GET HURT OVER SOME STUPID GAME!?!?? I DON'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT HOW HIGH YOUR PAIN TOLERANCE IS, YOU WILL NEVER DO SOMETHING THAT STUPID AGAIN!!!! DO YOU HEAR ME!!!!"

You released Killua, watching as he tried to process your words like Gon.

"It won't happen again, I swear."

"Good, now then, all things considered... Good job boys. Couldn't be prouder." You could feel both auras shift into contentment at your words. Then you felt the predatory one next to you.

You let out a groan before deciding to be nice. He did help them win after all.

"You did great too Hisoka," you begrudgingly praised.

"Aww thanks. We only won because we worked together. That makes this a team victory." He said as he placed a hand on your head and ruffled your hair.

You let out a small growl.

"I can still kick your ass with this broken leg, ya know!" Your threat caused the small group to burst into laughter. You were so focused on the boys that you didn't notice Razor walking up.

"I lose," he started. "As I promised, we'll all leave this town immediately. But first, you asked about Ging, so I'll tell you." His words were directed at Gon.

The boy in question looked over at you, silently asking if it was okay. You flashed him your tired smile.

"What're you waiting for, munchkin? Go on, we'll be right here when you're done talking. Alright?"

He beamed up at you and followed after Razor.

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

You watched as Bisky bandaged Killua's hands. He let out a shriek at the harsh contact.

"Don't be baby. If you can take the injury, you can take the healing," You chastised.

"Says you! You can't even use your crutches properly!" He argued.

"I was panicking!"

"Excuse, excuses, excuses!"

Bisky thumped the both of you an the back of the head.

"Can you two stop arguing for one second!"

You were about to give a rebuttal, but were cut off by Gon sprinting towards you. He looked rather giddy. Whatever Razor told him must have been pretty special to have him this happy. He started ranting to Killua, excitedly waving his arms as he spoke.

"Y/n," Razor called out. You looked up at him from your place on the ground.

"May I have a word with you?"

You focused your eyes on his form, trying to pick up on any malice that may be lingering in his aura. Nothing, except for content.

Weird.

"Sure?" You had no clue what he would ever want with you. And you weren't exactly fond of him as it was.

You hastily got to your feet, both boys helping you up. You grabbed your crutches and followed after Razor. When you were far enough away from the others, he finally spoke.

"For starters, I'd like to apologize about your leg. I hope it heals well."

You gave out a small huff.

"You and me both...Look, I know you didn't just call me over here just to apologize, so out with it." At least he hadn't turned out to be a complete ass afterall.

"Right. You've been here for two years, correct."

"...Yes..." You had no idea where he was going with this.

"Well just about two years ago some people arrived on the island through unconventional means."

They tried to get in from the outside.

"And said they were apart of [REDACTED] and were looking for a child that had run away from home."

You froze in place.

"Don't panic, I did my duty as gamemaster and shooed them away. But I'll admit, I was curious to know if one of their own was truly here.

"When I saw your nen ability, I had my suspensions. But you're reaction just now confirmed it. Am I right?"

You gave a shaky breath.

Demons from the past just couldn't leave you alone, could they.

"No...No you're wrong. I'm not one of them and I never will be." You looked up and stared straight into Razor's eyes, unwavering hatred on full display. But it wasn't him who your rage was directed at.

And it was then he understood. He understood very well now why you were unknowingly holding back earlier.

"Let me offer you some advice, then. When you leave the island, be very careful with your aura output."

"Who says I'm gonna leave." You knew it was a futile argument, but you just wanted some semblance of control right now. You wanted to have a choice. You wanted anything but to face the cruel reality before you.

"Those boys, they look up to you so much already. All it takes is one person who believes in you to change. And perhaps you already knew that. Perhaps you've already started noticing little differences in your everyday life."

The smiles

The laughs

The fear

And the protectiveness.

"It's just something to think about."

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

"What did you talk about?" Gon questioned.

You forced a smile. One that clearly wasn't yours

"Don't worry about it. It was nothing important."

"Not buying it," Killua interjected. "If it wasn't important you wouldn't have been over there for so long."

"Fine, fine. Badger the injured person will you." You tried to tease.

"Well I'm injured too, so you can't use that excuse!"

"You can walk, I don't want to hear it."

"WH- HEY!"

"They're right Killua, you can move around just fine with your legs, but Y/n? They might never walk again." Gon joined in on the teasing.

"Hey! Whose side are you on!?!"

You'd successfully changed the subject.

Good, you'd have time to process everything later.

For now, you just wanted to enjoy what you had while it was still here.

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

Fun fact #5: Y/n is in the specialist category.

MASTERLIST

[thesakuragarnet]

The Limo Scandal (A Pro Hero Dabi X Hawks X Mirko Prequel)

Summary: After a messy breakup with Mount Lady, Pro Hero Dabi finds himself in a crossfaded friends with benefits situation with Hawks and Mirko. (A prequel oneshot for my Playing With Fire AU)

THIS WORK IS 18+ ONLY! S3XUAL TAGS WILL BE HIDDEN BELOW THE KEEP READING BUTTON!

Non-Spicy Tags: Pro Hero Dabi, Hollywood-esque HPSC AU, making out, swearing, smvt

Word Count: 1,326 words

AO3 link

Main fic

Spicy Tags: $ubstance use, s3ggsual activity under the !nfluence, 0ral s3x, vag!nal s3x, bl0wjobs, handj0bs, t!tf*cking, thr33some, friends with benefits, p0rn without plot, t0p Mirko, switch DabiHawks, car s3x, voy3urism, ma$turbat!on

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The limo ride to the Pro Hero red carpet event was a full hour, and the limo service made the mistake of stocking it with alcohol. Hawks, Dabi, and Mirko had already pre-gamed the event at Hawks’ penthouse, and now they were all thoroughly crossfaded. It was the first event Toya would attend since he dumped Mount Lady. Their whirlwind relationship lasted only six days, and they were the worst six days of Toya’s life. The sex was amazing…until he found out she’d been double-dealing with Kamui Woods the entire time. He’d ripped up and burned their contract right in front of her and tossed her bags out his window. Still…the alcohol wasn’t helping his need for physical touch. Pro Hero Dabi’s nerves feel like they’re on fire; he can’t remember the last time he was this horny or crossfaded. The three of them always tended to end up making out with each other whenever they got this wasted, but…something else was in the air in the back of the limo. If he was sober, he wouldn’t have agreed to what would soon conspire. 

“Come on, firefuck. I know you’re sad because of Yu, but let’s have fun tonight,” Rumi giggles as she crawls over the seats to Dabi. Hawks sits at the other end of the seats, looking out the window as if he’s hallucinating. Mirko sits on Dabi’s lap, putting her hands on his shoulders, and he thinks she’s going in for a kiss. However, she suddenly sinks her teeth into his neck, and breath hisses through Toya’s clenched teeth. His jaw slacks as the rabbit girl starts passionately sucking on his neck, her tongue dancing along his skin as she peppers his flesh with hickeys. Toya practically melts under her spell, and he tilts his chin up ever so slightly to accommodate her as she moves around; he’s wordlessly begging for her to keep going. Finally, she stops, and Toya looks down at her, only to find himself staring at her tits. He’s practically salivating, but he can’t help it. He’s too far gone. None of them have any real romantic feelings toward one another, but, right now, they’re full of carnal, instinctual lust; Toya’s inhibitions are completely erased. Mirko follows his stare and shifts, feeling him get hard beneath her as she puts her elbows together, pushing up her already plump breasts. 

“You want me to help you out with that little problem I can feel?” She sneers drunkenly, shifting her weight slightly, ripping a moan from Toya’s throat. The noise catches Keigo’s attention. 

“You two just gonna make me watch? That’s not fair,” Hawks whines. 

“You’ll get your turn, sweetheart. Mama wants to play with fire for a bit,” Mirko coos as she traces Toya’s jawline with her fingertip in an impossibly seductive manner. He hates being submissive, but, with Rumi, it’s so easy. 

“I’ll use these that you seem to be so fixated on,” Mirko murmurs as she hops off Dabi’s lap, sitting up tall on the floor on her knees in front of him as she zips out of her glittery silver dress. She wasn’t even wearing anything underneath. Toya blinks drunkenly as she unzips his pants, pulling out his cock. She positions herself in such a way that forces his length between her tits, and he leans his head back, Dabi’s eyelids fluttering shut as he puts an arm over his eyes like he’s embarrassed. 

“Fuck,” He sighs, relishing in the friction between Mirko’s breasts as she forces them up and down. A fleeting, warm and wet sensation at his tip sends a bolt of pleasure through his body as Mirko teasingly licks it. Toya squirms beneath her, trying to restrict himself from thrusting, but he wants to so desperately. Suddenly, he feels the embrace of her tits disappear, but it is quickly replaced by her mouth as she starts sucking him off. 

“ God , Rumi,��� The horny plea escapes his lips, eliciting an egotistical laugh from the rabbit girl. 

“Better than that blonde bitch, huh?” She sneers before she begins deepthroating until her eyes water, her waterproof mascara and fake eyelashes holding strong as she bats them up at Dabi. 

“ Fuck yes, ” He cries out breathlessly, reaching down to run his fingers through her hair in appreciation. 

“Plenty of other girls out there better than her, Dabs. You dodged a bullet,” Rumi murmurs encouragement as she pulls back briefly, wiping the tears out from under her eyes.

“How much longer?” Hawks chides impatiently, and Rumi sniffs, pulling back and leaving Toya right at the edge before wiping the mix of drool and pre from her mouth. 

“Get over here, Birdbrain,” Mirko orders, cracking her knuckles as Toya twitches. Hawks’ half-lidded eyes widen, and he scoots over to sit slightly apart from Toya. Rumi climbs into the space that separates them, wrapping a hand around Toya’s length as she begins planting intense kisses on Keigo’s lips. 

“We will be arriving at the venue in ten minutes!” The limo driver’s voice announces through the speaker. He can’t hear or see anything that’s going on in the backseat. Rumi’s hands find their way to Keigo’s pants, and she immediately starts taking out his half-hard cock. She shifts, releasing Toya from her grip as she splays herself out between them, slowly lowering her cunt down on Toya’s pulsing length while she leans forward to wrap her mouth around Keigo’s. 

Keigo and Toya’s voices come out as sensual groans in a beautiful harmony as the lewd sounds overtake the limo. The boys’ faces are red and sweaty, and, when they make eye contact, it sets something off. 

“Come here,” Dabi practically moans as he and Hawks grab each other, passionately kissing as Mirko moans between them, sucking the life out of Hawks while throwing it back on Dabi’s cock. 

“Feels so fucking good,” Toya slurs between wet, sloppy kisses as he runs his fingers through Keigo’s hair. The Pro Hero’s wings twitch as his best friend’s hands find their way to his feathers, heating up his fingertips to stimulate him. Keigo’s hands dart to Rumi, and he holds her hair back so she can focus her attention on the two of them. Dabi bucks his hips against Mirko’s, eliciting surprised, pleasured hums from her that vibrate around Keigo. Hawks slips his tongue into Dabi’s mouth, who immediately leans further into the kiss. All three of them are breathing heavily, obnoxious, muffled moans emanating from their throats as they coax each other to climax. 

“Almost there, guys!” The limo driver announces through the speaker, and a laugh bubbles up in Hawks’ throat at the unintentional double entendre. Dabi groans as he feels Mirko clenching up around him, and the two men feel the blood surging from their brains. It happens all at once. Rumi’s eyes roll back into her head as she swallows Hawks’ load, practically jumping off of Dabi’s dick as her insides spasm uncontrollably, and he gives in to the pleasure. Suddenly, the limo comes to a stop, and the three crossfaded Pros panic through their pleasure-induced brain fog. Hawks tries to smear the come off of Dabi’s pants as the fire-Quirk user attempts to help Rumi back into her dress. The two men readjust, zipping themselves up as Rumi finishes dressing, and she opens the door. 

…

Rumi staggers out of the limo first, her dress shimmering off of the flashing paparazzi lights. Her hair is a mess, her dress is wrinkled, and a thin trail of translucent white spit peeks out of the corner of her mouth. It’s amazing that she doesn’t trip in her stilettos. Dabi hobbles out next, his top two shirt buttons unbuttoned, his neck covered in bite marks and hickeys, and his face beet red. Hawks brings up the rear with a dumb smile, his feathers completely fluffed and on edge. The press would be eating up the story for the next few months.