#and the bigger one had orange tendril things??

[thesleepyfable]

~ SWTD: Still Here AU Part 18: ~

A Highland Morning:

For all you Trots lovers, this one's for you. At least the second half of the chapter is. This one is a slight practice of ensemble cast writing, but the next chapter will be completely Trots focused.

Chapter 19:

If the Beria crew were going to stay here, then they needed to earn their keep. For Roy, that meant waking up early and prepping a large breakfast. Bacon, eggs, onions, potatoes, and butter. After everything that's happened over the last two days, the men needed something to warm their souls.

First, he cut the bacon up into small pieces, no bigger than a finger nail. Second, he chopped the potatoes and onions. Watch the eyes. Between steps two and three, Roy warmed the skillet and pan for the potatoes to cook. Third, set eggs to the side. After ten minutes, giving enough time to warm himself up with a builder's brew, the bacon was ready to fry.

The smell of cooking woke Raffs from Muir's bedroom. Carefully and quietly, he made his way into the kitchen, making sure not to wake Brodie who slept in a sleeping bag besides the bedroom window. Easier said than done. The floors creeked with every step, but thankfully, nothing could wake Brodie. Compared to the rest of the house, the kitchen was warm. It became a blanket for Raffs, who crossed his arms to preserve what he could. 'Alright, Roy. Whatcha making?'

Roy wasn't surprised to see Raffs. The boy was an early bird by nature. Always the first to enter the canteen. Probably to get the first batch of food, because it was the freshest. Plus, everyone knew he was a glutton. Raffs eyed up the fruit bowl with oranges sitting on the top. He grabbed one but stopped himself from peeling it. Oranges were his favourite food, but they were a rarity to get. A treat for most, only found as a stocking filler at Christmas. Reluctantly, he put it back and crossed his arms again.

'Just some things I'm slapping together for all of us.' Bauernfruhstuck, or Farmer's Breakfast. 'If you want to help, go and let the others in the barn know it'll be ready soon.'

'You don't want me to set the table?'

'I don't think they'll be enough room for us. Just wrap up warm, and you'll be alright.'

With more reluctance and wishing he stayed in bed, Raffs put on his boots and coat before heading outside. The sun was starting to rise, reflecting a soft orange and pink against the inches thick snow. The air was crisp. It reminded Raffs of Skye and made him wonder how anyone could live in a dense city, where the air was dirty and grey. The countryside wasn't a new sight for him, but it was one that would never get old.

With a creak from the old hinges, the barn doors opened.

It was a two story build, and the first thing Raffs noticed was Addair. He took up the entire second story, with half of his body resting over the side, inches from falling. He would have if it wasn't for the tendrils keeping him in place. Gibbo could be seen in the shadows at the back of the barn, his head resting in an elevated position on a stack of hay. Muir and Innes huddled together just off to the right. Only Innes' head could be seen, as he was wrapped around Muir's tendrils, once again being used as a blanket. Muir had curled in on himself, acting as a barrier for Innes. Raffs' eyes widened when he turned and saw Rennick. He was sleeping off to the left, on a stack of hay bales, but what was strange was seeing how all the barn cats had gravitated towards him. All ten of them slept either on or around the king. Seems he found his new followers. Now, who to wake first? Muir. Definitely Muir.

Raffs lightly knocked on the helmet, causing Muir to close in further on himself. He knocked again. Muir shifted his head away. 'Muir? Hey, Muir. Get up.' Then he questioned himself. Why the fuck was he whispering? He had to get them up before the food goes cold. And everyone knew, Roy would raise Hell. Raffs took in a deep breath, turned back to the doors and began to knock loudly. 'GET UP!'

The barn cats ran into the shadows. Everyone shot up, but Addair fell forwards and onto a pile of hay below with a 'fuck.' Innes and Muir's heads collided, but only Innes fell back in pain. No one noticed, but Gibbo nearly smacked his head on a beam. Rennick was just upset the cats had vanished. They all glared at Raffs, who went from proud to finally raising his voice, to instant fear and regret. You know you've messed up when Gibbo is mad at you. 'Breakfast is nearly ready...'

'Oh good,' Addair teased. He got his his 'feet' and crept closer to Raffs like a predator hunting its prey. Raffs put two and two together and began to run back for the house. 'I'm starving.' A tendril shot out and purposefully missed the young diver, who felt the ground shake. The infected were chasing him. Yes, Muir was carrying Innes, who could only move his head. Unlike Grace and Bonnie, Raffs didn't find this fun. He turned and skidded along the snow, trying his best to avoid the group.

'I'm sorry! I'm sorry!' He was going to be out there for a while...

Caz stared at himself in the mirror. This was the best sleep he's had in weeks, but my God, did he look terrible. He never knew how comfy a sofa was until now. He might as well have been sleeping on a rock back on The Beria. 'Morning, handsome,' he joked through a yawn, whilst his eyes struggled to stay open. He ran the tap and splashed his face with lukewarm water before noticing the shaving equipment on the windowsill. Suze never liked a full beard, and Caz had to admit, he looked like he'd been dragged out of a homeless shelter. It's time for it to come off. He cut away at the thickest parts before adding the shaving cream and taking a razor to the rest. All he kept was light stubble on his upper lip. The end result took about fifteen years off his face, even with the shadows under his eyes. 'And hello to you too, stranger.'

Trots used the downstairs bathroom to get himself ready. He didn't think about it until now, but when he noticed what was left of his uniform clinging to him, he took a pair of scissors and cut away until he could toss it back into his bag to be burned later. He won't let anyone touch it. Then he put on the same black polo jumper and grey coat on. Did he need the coat? No. Trots noticed that despite it being nearly below zero degrees out in the North Sea and on the mainland, he didn't feel it. Everything just felt room temperature to him. The others must have felt it. Still, the clothing was a reminder to himself that he was still human.

An outline of his exposed ribs pressed against the fabric, but he did his best to ignore it. He focused on his face that, with the exception of his hair having fallen out, was the same. Slightly cloudy eyes, but his vision hadn't changed. Odd. At least he wasn't bleeding from them anymore. 'What will he think of me?'

Knock. Knock. Knock.

'Trots? Roy's serving up breakfast.'

'Aye. Thanks, Brodie.' With one final look in the mirror, Trots sighed, put on a brave face, and left the bathroom, only for Raffs to practically jump into the house and slam the door shut. The pair exchanged a look. Trots was surprise. Raffs was awkward.

'Morning, Trots...'

The Highlands were harsh when it came to the snow. Despite Cadal's trucks being able to make their way up the drive, in several hours, the snow had engulfed everything. Only the infected and Raffs' footprints could be seen. Trots sat on the porch rocking chair. He had picked at his food but eventually left the plate on the floor for one of the barn cats to take for themselves. He couldn't bring himself to eat. He didn't notice Roy and Brodie watching him from the living room window with concern. He was too lost in thought, his mind racing. Now that the rush from leaving The Beria was over, he couldn't help but think of how he even ended up in this situation. Ideally, he'd be back home now, at his local pub enjoying a beer with the usual crowd. He tapped his finger against the arm of the chair. It rocked back and forth with his weight. He eyes stared down the long drive that eventually turned into a blindspot. The sound of a barn cat walking over the now empty plate snapped Trots out of his one-sided staring contest. He lifted his glasses and rubbed his eyes with a groan.

'Work. I just need to work.'

Anything will do, and that meant shovelling the nearly three inch thick snow. Sadly, trying to move when you have no legs and so much extra flesh pushing down on the body made it hard to move without crawling, but Trots was determined. He didn't want to be seen crawling around like a beast. The shovel would be good support. Dig. Shovel. Toss. That's all he had to do, but as soon as he broke into the snow.

'Johnny?'

All the air left Trots' lungs, and his shoulders dropped. He slowly turned to the voice, where his eyes locked with the man around his age. He had a tanned complexion and black hair that was best described as a lion's mane. He wore the same glasses as Trots, dressed in a similar fashion, and carried a small backpack over his shoulder that belonged to the bus station company he worked for. His eyes didn't break away from Trots, but he obviously saw the mutation. Ever detail. Right down to the swollen wrists that peeked through his coat sleeves.

Trots saw the shock in his eyes. His grip on the shovel tightened. He didn't want to let go. In just a few seconds, it had become a source of comfort for whatever was about to happen next. His breathing deepend. This was a face he thought he'd never see again. Butterflies swarmed his stomach, sweat ran down his face, and his heart began to race. A mixture of relief and anxiety washed over him. He wanted to smile. He wanted to be sick. He wanted to run into his arms. He wanted to disappear.

'...Simon...'

[mraprilfools]

Word Count: 4.1k

Rating: Mature

CW/TW: Period typical Racism, F slur, Graphic depiction of insects, Child Abuse, Animal abuse & Death

Summary:

A story about Alastor's beginning's and how he ended up with the chain around his neck. In the confines of a prison he meets a devil, a god, or something else entirely that offers a deal too good to be true... Preview under the cut.

It was always dark in the attic.

And it was always filthy.

Dust everywhere. On walls, the floors, you couldn’t take a breath without it filling your lungs.

Cobwebs webbed on every corner, you couldn’t breach any new territory without it wrapping around your body.

Then there was the musty stench of sweat crawling over Alain’s body. Unwashed from so many days left up in the sweltering hell. He quickly retracted his hand when an insect skittered across it. He wondered if it might be a spider, centipede, roach, or otherwise. Eyes adjusted to the darkness hours ago, he preferred to remain ignorant. So he did not go searching for answers he didn’t want. Didn’t think about it. He focused on the single lifeline he had up here: The light from the Four-pane window.

It was the only connection he had with the outside world. The dying embers of the day stained half the attic in an ethereal orange glow. As if peering into the gates of hell. And some days? He felt like opening the window and taking that leap. He’d cast his body to the flames if it meant he could escape this silence.

Escape the sound of his blood pumping through his veins. The company he shared in these four dark corners. And the looming presence of something he could not be sure was imagination, madness, or… a demon that stepped through the glowing orange gate.

Tk. Tk. Tk. Tk. Tk. Shkshkshkshskshk.

One could argue it was a squirrel. But it was far too constantly skittering across the ceiling above him. A crumbling of dirt fell into his hair, greasy from the days left unwashed. A large rat sped past him. Ugly, matted fur, red beady eyes, with a short pinkish tail, torn at the end. Alain’s eyes fixated on it, watching it nibble on the leftovers of the meal his mother prepared him yesterday. The unwashed, ragged face of the boy reflected in its glassy soulless eyes.

A heavy wind hissed through the trees outside the window, a large gnarled branch stretched banging against the window. Shadowy tendrils in the outstretched yellow light crawling across the floorboards only just out of reach. Waiting. Simply waiting to drag him to hell.

How did he end up here?

Well-- He’d been a very, very, very bad boy.

A man insulted his mother. And he sought to make him into something far more polite. He’d practiced on many creatures before. Cats, dogs, birds, even pigs. But, never a man. The drunkard was far bigger than him, stronger too. But strength and size weren’t everything. The dullard was fond of day drinking and far too confident around a child. He never expected to wake up with a blade in his throat, and the impassive eyes of a child holding it down to silence his burbling protests.

When he kicked the body into the gator-infested waters, he felt far more guilt for soiling his mother’s dear kitchen knife than what he’d done to him. To Alain, the sailor had been no better than the rats feasting on garbage. A cold corpse was an improvement over the blithering idiot he once was. It was…easier than he thought it would be. It was… empowering, life-changing. A realization of his power to change the world around him.

When Alain got home, his first instinct was to wash the blade in the sink. Alain didn’t want manman’s cherished knife to rust! He didn’t care about how he tracked swamp mud through the house, or how it stuck to his clothes mingled with blood. Brand new clothes soiled by the swamp waters still secondary to the things his mother cherished.

When Manman wandered the house, Alain could always tell by the daintier footsteps on the floorboards. Those always meant safety to him. Serenity. Peace.

But he feared the heavy stomping of boots. Those belonged to his father. Or as he called him in his mind: The Beast.

The way he stomped around his grounds making his authority known, feared wasn’t the picture of a loving father or a doting husband. It was a beast that wanted control over what was under its roof. The heavy footsteps made him a doe in the woods.

If it remained constant, that was fine. It was his father’s neutral state. What does he truly need to watch out for? Was the silence. When it became so quiet you could hear a pin drop. When you could hear the rush of air hissing through his nostrils and his teeth. The beast didn’t use words. It had to hiss through its jaws and strike violence so you knew to not provoke it.

If you were lucky, it would be the drywall. More than a few holes littered the house where a fist punched clean through. A reminder that it could have been him if the transgression or noise had been any worse. The handyman of this father would plaster them in places, but the off-color still told the story of many nights of undirected rage.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Final Boarding Call

https://www.patreon.com/empyreaniris?fan_landing=true

https://starr-fall-knight-rise.tumblr.com/post/182501791735/master-post

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1jzEIdDAB4omdO2JcQVMObfrhLJ5kX4ONmSsLypM1ks0/edit?usp=sharing

“Architect’s balls!”

Should have expected that to be Celex’s first words upon seeing the incarnation of chaos itself, though Adam had the distinct feeling that the architect’s balls were a bit of an understatement when it came to what they were now witnessing.

None of the other Makers looked particularly pleased at the Ex emperor’s outburst, but at this point Adam was under the impression there were much bigger fish to fry than Celex’s irreverence.

“Black holes.” Sunny muttered her voice dragged down with the weight of its own gravity, “Does Anyone else feel incredibly stupid for not putting that together until now.”  Adam grunted in agreement, he couldn’t help but feel the exact same thing she was feeling. Before them, the black hole at the center of the Milky Way, Sagittarius A* spun, shedding escaping light from the very edges of its outer event horizon, where light was still fast enough to escape the pull of incredible gravity.

And all around it, a hazy cloud of red.

At first Adam had thought it an incomprehensible mass, and maybe that was the case, and his human mind was finding patterns where there was none, but looking at the red haze that spilled out and around the blak hole, reaching tendrils into the darkness, he got the sense of a massive creature, with a massive presence to match, the cold and abiding chill that had rooted itself in Adam’s chest, not a new fear, but an old fear.

One that had been chewing at his guts since his soul came to fruition.

And it wasn’t alone: spattering the darkness that surrounded the black hole, and its massive, reaching creature, there were ships, thousands of them, maker ships, Kree ships, human ships, and other ships Adam did not recognize, an entire armada just for them, and at it’s head, a massive spiked beast, almost as big as the empyrean, and radiating the silky orange light of recycled maker souls. 

And orbiting it all, the Necratorium, sharp funnel of light reaching its orange glow into the reaches of space, from whence the souls of the damned spilled like a cascade 

The shadows on the Empyrean continued to deepen, until it felt like the light was struggling to chase back an impending tide of black tar.

He shivered.

“This is it.” He said softly 

“This is it.” Sunny agreed.

“Fuck me.” Ramirez muttered.

At first it was simply them, alone against what seemed to be an enemy tide, but then, one by one other ships came flashing into existence behind them, white and glazed gold with true maker power. First tens than hundreds and then thousands of ships appearing behind them in wave after wave forming up behind them in a grid of ships ready to take on the army that lay before them.

But still Adam felt small

They had Apollyon 

“Don’t suppose this is an appropriate time to ask where the hell the architect is.” Adam wondered 

Below him Adham, standing with hands on his hips gazing out the window and towards the field of battle, shook his head, “I don’t know where he is.”

Ramirez snorted in incredulity, “You lost god?”

Adham frowned at him, “I am not our father’s keeper; besides, he has a preference for personal descretion. I rarely know where he is at any given time.” 

“Don’t tell me this is going to be like one of those urban fantasy tv shows where god is totally real, but he’s like a really shitty absentee parent.” Ramirez muttered

Sunny gave him a look, “That is oddly specific.”

“Not really. Movie studios think it's edgy, but when everyone is going edgy, no one is being edgy.”

Adham huffed, “No, he is not, and don’t be insulting. I simply said I didn’t know where he was . I never said he wasn’t involved. He will reveal himself when the time is right.”

When the Maker ships were done appearing, it still wasn’t over, and one by one others shapes began to appear, miles and miles of twisting, scaled bodies, and wide, reaching solar sales.

The leviathan.

Still Adam was not convinced it would be enough. 

“Until  then.” Adam muttered. Turning his head ever so slightly, he exchanged a look with Sunny and Celex both of which gave him a slow, understanding nod.

Outside the window Apollyon’s army laid out before them.

It was time to show him theirs. 

With the flick of his hand, Adam engaged the com system, sending a hail down to the equipment room, “Bring it.” He said hoping beyond hope that their equipment officer hadn’t been booted out of his position. They sat there for what seemed like a long time, waiting as adham gave his orders, and when Adam was just beginning to assume his message had gone unheard, the door at the back of the bridge opened, and their equipment officer came hurrying onto the deck, pushing a massive, heavy looking cart.

Were it not for the gravity strips at the base of the cart Adam was sure he wouldn't have gotten the thing anywhere.

He went mostly unnoticed as he brought the cart to Sunny’s side, and only when Adam disengaged from the helm of the ship did Adham noticed and turn to see what was going on, face pulling into a frown just in time to see Adam strop his shirt off to reveal the skin tight black dermal suit underneath.

“What are you doing?” He asked the suspicion clear in his voice.

Adam ignored him, Pulling off his pants and kicking off his boots. The black dermal suit fit over his body like a glove, clinging tightly to his skin, all the way from his feet to his wrists, like the strangest pair of footie pajamas. With the addition of the gloves and padded hood, the suit was almost comfortable.

Adam was glad he worked out.

The others were doing much the same.

Completely Naked as she usually was, Sunny was the only one who didn’t stop to a strip tease.

Adham marched forward, “What is.”

Adam stepped back locking his mechanical foot into the left boot, and then his human leg into the right boot.

The SE Armor, whirred to life, folding  around him, snapping into place around his ankles, and then rolling like a sharp wave up his body, locking into place over his hips, and then his torso and then his chest, until the helmet was the last item, retracting itself down over his head, and covering his face with the mirrored blue visor.

Lights erupted over the HUD as Fealty roared through the system stronger and more lucid than ever.

System booting.

And then the SE armor whirred, slotting into place through the ports on his wrists.

Steel eye, born from pain and death, tested in ash and fire and human suffering, perfected through redemption and ending here in its final installment, allowing, for the first time in its existence, for a man to step into the suit without a price.

Ramirez donned his SE armor for the first time, without a price.

Now the SE armor was optimally paired with the more invasive SE exoskeleton, but this model didn’t require it to function.

Leaving it available to all species 

A fact Sunny was quite pleased about.

The visor locked down over her face with a sharp click, as two spiked metal horns sprouted from her head like a crown. The pearl white of the armor gleamed in the half darkness, chasing back tarry black shadow. Defensive spikes erupted from her shoulders, knees and elbows, And when she was done, she finished the ensemble by picking up a massive spear, pearly white like her armor, and shot through with golden energy.

In her armor she was almost two feet taller, with the spines.

“What is this.” Adham repeated

Adam stepped past the maker and back onto the platform, feet thudding and sending little shockwaves through the room, “Preparing us for battle.” He raised his hands, feet leaving the floor as he was drawn into the air, “Call them.” He ordered, voice echoing around the room, strangely distorted by the microphones in his helmet.

The comms officer nodded, ignoring their Maker’s protests, and keyed the signal.

Adam did the same to the rest of the ship, “Empyrean crew this is your captain speaking. Man your battle stations.”

It took no more than a few seconds for his commands to reach a response.

More flashes of light began appearing in the darkness around them.

And then the first voice came through the comms, “At your call, Admiral.”  Simon said. Turninghis head Adam could see the Omen floating in the darkness next to them, the sleek line of her dark hull illuminated by pulsating blue light.

“With you.” McCaster said, followed by Koslov, and then Kimball.

Sharp lights cracked like fireworks in the vacuum of space, beginning as a trickle and then following as an eruption culminating when there came an eruption of ships, thousands upon thousands strong crackling into place around and among the waiting Maker army.

And then, there she was, Lord Avex’s imperial cruiser, “At your side Admiral.”

But it was the last ship that surprised Adam the most.

Shock and surprise, when a familiar ship appeared out of the darkness in a blaze of light, smallish in comparison, built like a brick with engines, dark, stalky, and unrefined.

The Harbinger?

“At your call Admiral.”

He turned towards the voice, surprised when President Kelly herself appeared on the Holo.

“Kelly! But shouldn’t you-”

“Be back on Earth?” She smiled a little, a short glitch causing her body to vanish in a void of stars before returning, “I have always admired proactive presidents.” She held out her arms, “besides, someone built this beautiful replica of our first ship, and I simply couldn’t refuse the opportunity.”

He smiled, “Damn straight.”

“NO!”

Adam sighed, “Adham.”

HTe maker glowered at him from the floor pointing a finger up at him, “What did we agree on.”

“You agreed on it, and I lied.” Adam shrugged, “I came to warn you about the invasion, be glad I let you tag along for the ride.” And then he turned away leaving the Maker working his jaw trying to find words.

[lazypanartist]

Up first, this is the holiday gift for everyone else, a continuation of the Michelangelo x Shadow Yokai halloween special. I know its far from Halloween, but eh. Winter has a holiday with skeletons called Mari Lwyd so I say close enough.

Enjoy the thrilling sequel!

-📝 Nonnie

----

The darkness stretched through the room, dampening Mikey's snickers as you hunkered under the sheet on top of the slab. Your form made a convincing mimicry of him in shape. One you knew would fool anyone, especially with your acting. Tremors shook your body and you let shaking, hiccuping sobs wrack your form.

The heavy metal door of the morgue swung open, and hurried feet made their way to you. Hushed whispers called out to their missing brother, and a pair of arms protectively grabbed you and pulled you into a hug, sheet and all.

Oh, this was too good.

Your head lolled back and your jaw split open, a rattleing hiss escaping your throat as your needle-like teeth gleamed in the low lighting. Burning, milky white eyes pierced through Red, making him gasp in shock and drop you. Your knees bent backwards as you braced for the fall, catching yourself easily with twisted joints.

"JUMPIN' JACK FLASH-"

A manic laugh bubbled from you, making the largest turtle scramble back. You turned and hissed at Purple and Green, who both yelped and leaned away. You snickered menacingly, before sneering over at Blue, who shrugged and tried to play tough.

"Oh come on. It's probably some totally normal, completely regular thing that can be explained!"

His three fingered hand reached out and snached your shoulder. You responded simply by melting down into a silhouette, dripping through his grasp to the floor. He shrieked and backed up.

"Okay! Okay, demonic shadow monster it is, gotcha!"

"LEO!!"

"What?! Oh, excuuuse me for thinking Mikey might play a prank on us for ditching him in that room!"

Your silhouette darted away to the darkest corner of the room behind Green. The shadows pooled towards your form. Your shape mutated, growing bigger, gnarlier, nastier and more gruesome-

You hissed in pain, smoky tendrils wafting away from where the bright light hit your arm. Glaring, you noted the human had her flashlight pointed at you, this one much brighter and more powerful than the phones and soft yellow bulbed ones the others used.

Your eyes widened, and you swallowed nervously.

"Alright, shadow freak. Tell us where Mikey is!!"

You couldn't speak. Why couldn't you speak? Confrontation was always horrifying for you, it made your throat close up and panic to settle in your soul. Whimpering, you darted towards the door, only for several more lights to cut you off.

The others had caught on to your weakness.

Hissing, you turned and tried to duck behind a filing cabinet, where the light wouldn't find you, but the largest simply picked it up and tossed it aside. Your large, moon white eyes widened at how close Michelangelo was close to being hit with that. Your eyes begged him to speak up.

He was frozen, stuck watching the trainwreck in slow motion about to happen.

Lights surrounded you, and you shrieked as another beam cut away your shade form. You were no longer the massive monster maliciously scaring them. It was just you. A simple shadowy shade.

The purple one stood in front of the group, holding up his metal…staff. Cane? Did he need mobility assistan- OH!! No it was a weapon. A bright glow radiated from the end pointed at you.

"Last chance. Give us our brother back. Or I hit you with the equivalent of a flash bang grenade with 88 million lumens. You have five seconds. Four. Three, two-"

Oh. You were dead. Beyond dead, really.

A loud clatter rang out at purple's 'One!', and blue and green shouted in surprise as something shoved past. Your eyes locked briefly with ones hidden behind an orange mask. You barely managed to croak out his name before a bright flash illuminated him, radiating out from in front of him like the sunlight being blocked by a mountain.

You were safe. Tucked into the shadow he cast.

You were safe.

–

"Angelo!!"

The terrapin covered his eyes with his hands, rubbing them before blinking in a dazed manner. "Hey Don."

The youngest brother was bundled up in a group hug between his family, wheezing slightly at the intensity.

"Mikey, thank Lou Jitsu you're safe!" Leo pulled back and shook him by his shoulders. "What the heck happened to you?!"

"Well, OBVIOUSLY the shadow demon consumed them and blasting it with light made him come back." Donatello blew on the tip of his violet tech-bo like he was in some form of western. "Occam's Razor."

Mikey scrunched his nose. "What? No. That's not it at all, I-"

"Ooh!! You were bound and gagged and broke free!" Raph grinned and patted Mikey's head. "Good job, big man."

"No!"

"Were you hiding somewhere until it was safe to come out?"

"N…kinda?" He winced at April's question. "I, um…I was mad. Really mad at you guys. You really hurt my feelings, and…Ohmigosh, are you okay?!"

"Huh?" Leo blinked. "Yeah, we're all fine, that thing didn't manage to get a hit on us-"

"Not you!!" Mikey looked back over to the dark corner, where his shadow was projected against. Worming out of their grasps, he hurried over, just to see his shadow suddenly gain two large, white, circular eyes and a jagged mouth.

"Angelo!! Hey, get back-"

"Are you okay? I'm…I'm sorry I didn't stop them in time, I just…I was shocked at how fast everything went wrong, and…"

You stepped out of your silhouette, and shook your head. "It's okay. I panicked and went into flight mode at the first sign of danger, and it didn't help. Kind of pathetic, huh?"

Mikey snorted. "I mean, you probably aren't used to having your bluff called. All bark and no bite and whatnot."

"Um, I'M sorry, WHY are you having a nice chat with the thing that kidnapped you?!"

Before the box turtle could reply, April groaned and facepalmed. "Oh man. This was totally a prank to get back at for Leo and Donnie being jerks, huh?"

"WHAT! HEY!!"

"Ha!! I called it!"

"Yeah, right before you screamed like a toddler," Raphael grumbled. The large turtle turned a scrutinizing eye to you, and you couldn't help shrinking under his glare. "You had us really worried about him. You know that, right?"

You nodded, a shameful heat warming your face to the tips of your ears and down to your collarbone. Mikey stepped in front of you again. "Raph, they're sorry. They were just trying to cheer me up."

"You both coulda been hurt, Mikey."

"Wait!!" April gasped, cutting in and pointing at you. "Was all the ghost stuff you too? Is this place not really haunted??"

You grinned, needle-y teeth lining your smile as you shook your head. "Yeah. You guys seemed like you really wanted to have some light spooks, so I decided to get in the Halloween spirit and put on a show for you guys."

"Maaaan, I'm never gonna be a paranormal investigator at this rate. This is two for two about it being all a hoax."

"Ghosts aren't REAL, April, give it up."

"What do you mean? Do you know how many ghost yokai there are? They totally exist."

–

You waved out the large, heavy double doors as Mikey and his family left. The Voorhees dressed terrapin waved back excitedly as they left, claiming to visit soon. You didn't hold out hope for that, knowing where you hung out, but the sentiment was nice. Sighing, you closed the door, the loud 'ch-kunk' noise echoing the halls and foyer as you drifted back into the room you claimed.

Pushing your door open, however, you were met with two things.

The first was the large pile of goodies on your desk. Chips, pretzels, some candy, and a shiny red candy apple sat on top. Your mouth watered as you noticed there were a few more apple goodies in the pile. You were going to SAVOR these snacks for sure.

The other, which you didn't notice until you sat down, was in your sketchbook. The pad was flipped open to a blank page, and scrawled on the paper was a note.

'Thank you for giving us a Halloween to remember, and thank you for being my new friend.'

One sentence. One sentence had a lump in your throat and made you have to swallow back tears. There was a phone number, you assumed his, with instructions to text Mikey whenever you wanted to hang out again. Next to it was a cute doodle of him waving at you.

You smiled, absolutely delighted, as you hung it up on your wall.

AHHHH THIS IS SO NICE!!! You always characterize everyone so well Nonnie - and your endings are spectacular! I'm glad someone on this blog knows how to actually end stories, LMAO

Also, sorry for taking so long - Christmas prep and cleaning :p I'll get the other story up soon, too!

[apatchedupdoll]

Here's a story

Raphael stared with his jaw dropped as a much bigger version of himself sitting on the ground staring back. "Uh. Hey... other me?" The other version of Raph spoke nervously before looking around just as nervous. "I know this might be weird but, have you seen my brothers? One is a giant robot and purple, one glows and looks like a Kraang gave him a bath, and uh one always is smiling with the best clothes you've ever seen?" The alternate snapper was huge, much more beat-up, and with a patch practically covering one-half of his face. Despite looking so formidable, the poor thing looked scared and confused.

Leonardo stared at his alternate version creeped out. "So. If Donnie Bot is from a universe where we're all robots, where are you from?" The blue glowing eyes flicked towards the vanilla version before smiling. "I come from a place where cities are built in domes and underground. The surface is too toxic for anything to live." "Right so what does that have to do with the Kraang gunk all over your body?" Neon laughed before lifting his arm to gaze at the orange eyes and pink flesh covering his arm. "It's not Kraang. Just something the humans wanted to use to... it doesn't matter. I use it to help me. Ever seen a turtle walk on walls?"

Michelangelo watched in confusion as his alternate self laughed. He laughed like Big Raph had told a joke. "You know big brother, it's so funny how easily you lie to all of them." The smiling turtle chattered their teeth before looking straight at Mikey. "He's such a liar! None of you can even tell!" The cape decorating alternate's body fluttered as he pulled a part of it in front of himself. Like a magician, the cape dropped to the ground showing the alternate had disappeared. Mikey was now more confused, staring at the alternate Raph who in turn gave a cruel look. "Of course, it's easy to lie when you've done the same thing hundreds of times before." Mikey's body froze as his alternate's voice purred next to his ear.

Donatello glared at the robotic version of himself. Its blank screen showed nothing to help him as its four giant robotic tendrils kept the technician from getting past. Leo on the other side struggling to fight his alternate. Mickey had been thrown through the floor and was currently fighting a few floors below. Raph, who knows where his fight went to. Donnie felt some relief that his alternate wasn't outright attacking him. Yet, if he didn't get past soon he feared his brothers were going to suffer a lot, or worse, the alternates were going to go through with their plan.

The turtles all stared at the robotic Donatello, who stared at the four back with two bloodied and beaten bodies in his mechanical tendrils. "Didn't you kill them?" Leo would suddenly speak, nerves still present considering what they'd just gone through. There was a soft laugh from the robot. "True, but I can repair them. It's not their fault after all. All of this is because some version of ourselves decided only the strongest could live." Mikey felt tears start to pool down his face as he watched his alternate's lifeless body hanging from the metal tendril. "You promise they'll be okay?" The robot's body seemed to soften. "I have my brothers stored on chips. They are safe. But these two? Their brothers are dead. Dead before I was even a part of this bloody crew. While I can repair their bodies and bring them back to life, I cannot promise that they'll be okay." Donnie glanced at his brothers and his heart tightened. The thought of having them taken away would have been surreal. He probably wouldn't have continued fighting if he was the only one. "What about the void?" Raph would suddenly speak, "What if it comes back?" There was a silence between the five, all making the question even more terrifying. "You defeated it without me, without your brothers. Unless you continue its path of destruction, there is nothing to fear. In fact, I say you will be able to defend your family from any other threat like it. Celebrate."

I had a bunch of ideas and decided to just put them all in one story. Neon is from the world of Stray, not specifically the same city but very close. Magic Mikey is based on Magic Kaito but I'd already made a Leo so decided Mikey would be the next best. Magic Kaito is like my favorite old anime of all time so I'm so happy~! Void Raph was basically what pushed this lil story. He once had all his void siblings, but they wanted to consume other Fanfiction Aus to find the strongest. Void Raph so far is the only one to survive the ravaging and basically forces the other three that defeated his brothers to be his new brothers. Void Leo would have fallen first, then Void Mikey, and finally Void Donnie. Doc Oct Arms Donnie isn't from anything specific. I just wanted to design a robot Donnie and kinda got distracted with this story when I was making the third sketch of Donnie Bot. In the story, Donnie Bot had defeated Void Donnie and was forced along to kill more versions of himself. Since they're robots it would be safe to assume Donnie Bot would have made backups of his brothers for the worst case scenario, which did end up happening. Now he was just waiting for a time to free himself and get rid of Void Raph, although the other two, unfortunately, had to be dealt with. Donnie Bot got it tho, he can save them and take them home. Even though they will be alone for who knows how long. Donnie Bot considers that punishment enough.

[forgedobsidian]

pretty sure these two are a type of haworthia but I don’t know for sure?? any guesses??

[rainhadaenerys]

Daenerys, Magic and Self-sacrifice

One argument I’ve seen from people who think Dany will die in the end is the idea that true magic can only be made with self-sacrifice and that because of this, Dany HAS to sacrifice herself. And well… I just don’t think the evidence presented for this is that conclusive, and I happen to think that there are plenty of things that point in the opposite direction.

One of the things that is pointed out as evidence is that had Dany not been willing to sacrifice herself, she would not have been able to hatch the dragons. But I don’t really think the text supports this interpretation. The very scene seems to be completely opposed to the idea that Dany ever wanted to sacrifice herself:

"I understand that you loved him," Ser Jorah said in a voice thick with despair. "I loved my lady wife once, yet I did not die with her. You are my queen, my sword is yours, but do not ask me to stand aside as you climb on Drogo's pyre. I will not watch you burn."

"Is that what you fear?" Dany kissed him lightly on his broad forehead. "I am not such a child as that, sweet ser."

"You do not mean to die with him? You swear it, my queen?"

"I swear it," she said in the Common Tongue of the Seven Kingdoms that by rights were hers. - Daenerys X AGOT

~

Dany took the torch from Aggo's hand and thrust it between the logs. The oil took the fire at once, the brush and dried grass a heartbeat later. Tiny flames went darting up the wood like swift red mice, skating over the oil and leaping from bark to branch to leaf. A rising heat puffed at her face, soft and sudden as a lover's breath, but in seconds it had grown too hot to bear. Dany stepped backward. [...]

And now the flames reached her Drogo, and now they were all around him. His clothing took fire, and for an instant the khal was clad in wisps of floating orange silk and tendrils of curling smoke, grey and greasy. Dany's lips parted and she found herself holding her breath. Part of her wanted to go to him as Ser Jorah had feared, to rush into the flames to beg for his forgiveness and take him inside her one last time, the fire melting the flesh from their bones until they were as one, forever. - Daenerys X ADWD

First, Dany states very confidently to Jorah that she has no intention to die. She says she is not “such a child” as that. So she had no intention to trade her life for the life of her dragons, meaning this was no self-sacrifice. It can’t be a sacrifice if Dany was certain that she wasn’t going to die, and didn’t want to die. Not only that, but Dany thinks about the “Seven Kingdoms that by rights were hers”, meaning that she has every intention to survive and use said dragons to conquer Westeros. And finally, we have the second quote. At first Dany feels the heat and steps backwards because the heat was too much to bear. And later Dany thinks that she was tempted to go burn and die with Drogo. Meaning that she could have burned and “sacrificed” herself if she wanted, but she chose not to (and followed her own ritual in order to survive). 

It doesn’t seem that “willingness to die/sacrifice yourself” was ever a part of Dany’s success. Because she seemed pretty against the idea of dying here, and she was even planning on how to conquer Westeros after this. It actually looks like Dany’s confidence and faith was a bigger part of the ritual than “willingness to sacrifice herself” ever was.

Also, I am not sure if the timing of the birth of the dragons supports the self-sacrifice theory, because the first two cracks (the first two dragons being born) happened before Dany fully entered the pyre (at that point she was at the edge of the fire, her clothes had only begun to smolder. So even if you consider she had already partially entered the fire, it was not enough for her to have “died” as a sacrifice), so Dany’s supposed sacrifice wasn’t really necessary for their birth:

Her vest had begun to smolder, so Dany shrugged it off and let it fall to the ground. The painted leather burst into sudden flame as she skipped closer to the fire, her breasts bare to the blaze, streams of milk flowing from her red and swollen nipples. Now, she thought, now, and for an instant she glimpsed Khal Drogo before her, mounted on his smoky stallion, a flaming lash in his hand. He smiled, and the whip snaked down at the pyre, hissing.

She heard a crack, the sound of shattering stone. The platform of wood and brush and grass began to shift and collapse in upon itself. Bits of burning wood slid down at her, and Dany was showered with ash and cinders. And something else came crashing down, bouncing and rolling, to land at her feet; a chunk of curved rock, pale and veined with gold, broken and smoking. The roaring filled the world, yet dimly through the firefall Dany heard women shriek and children cry out in wonder.

Only death can pay for life.

And there came a second crack, loud and sharp as thunder, and the smoke stirred and whirled around her and the pyre shifted, the logs exploding as the fire touched their secret hearts. She heard the screams of frightened horses, and the voices of the Dothraki raised in shouts of fear and terror, and Ser Jorah calling her name and cursing. No, she wanted to shout to him, no, my good knight, do not fear for me. The fire is mine. I am Daenerys Stormborn, daughter of dragons, bride of dragons, mother of dragons, don’t you see? Don’t you SEE? With a belch of flame and smoke that reached thirty feet into the sky, the pyre collapsed and came down around her. Unafraid, Dany stepped forward into the firestorm, calling to her children.

The third crack was as loud and sharp as the breaking of the world. - Daenerys X AGOT

Later in the books, Dany once again states that she never intended to sacrifice herself, and firmly believes that her dragons were born from the sacrifice of other people:

"They are mine," she said fiercely. They had been born from her faith and her need, given life by the deaths of her husband and unborn son and the maegi Mirri Maz Duur. Dany had walked into the flames as they came forth, and they had drunk milk from her swollen breasts. "No man will take them from me while I live." - Daenerys I ACOK

So Dany’s intention was all along never to sacrifice herself, but other people. Which is the complete opposite of what the self-sacrifice theories would lead us to believe. And once again, Dany stating that the dragons were born of her faith seems to corroborate the idea that it was her faith and confidence in the ritual that made the dragons hatch.

We also have this vision from the House of the Undying:

Faster and faster the visions came, one after the other, until it seemed as if the very air had come alive. Shadows whirled and danced inside a tent, boneless and terrible. A little girl ran barefoot toward a big house with a red door. Mirri Maz Duur shrieked in the flames, a dragon bursting from her brow. - Daenerys IV ACOK

People like to speculate that the sacrifices of Drogo, Rhaego and Mirri weren’t actually the real ones, that what mattered was Dany’s self-sacrifice, and that because of this she is living on borrowed time. And yet, this vision in the House of the Undying seems to contradict this interpretation, pointing that Mirri’s sacrifice was indeed the one that brought the dragons to life.

And then, of course, there are other examples. Melisandre is able to do magic by sacrificing other people, or even without sacrificing much (remember the leeches?).

And I don’t think that the idea that magic can be done by sacrificing others undermines any themes, or that it condones anything. Even if magic can be done by sacrificing others, people can still debate over the morality of it and whether this should be done. (In Dany’s case, Mirri killed her son, so Dany antis can stay far away from this post). The fact that Shireen won’t be enough to wake dragons could very well be simply because Stannis is not Azor Ahai, or that he didn’t put in the work and knowledge and faith that Dany had (remember how Dany states the dragons were born of her faith?), not because he didn’t sacrifice himself.

So I don’t think this idea that “Dany sacrificed herself in the pyre and therefore is living in borrowed time” holds much water so far. Maybe new information on this will come in the next books, but I don’t think the evidence so far is very strong. And I also don’t believe that the answer to defeat the Others has to be self sacrifice, when there’s no evidence that magic only works with self-sacrifice.

And even if the end of the Others does require self-sacrifice, why is the fandom so sure it has to be Dany? Literally any other character could sacrifice themselves. There’s nothing that points specifically to Dany as the one who HAS to sacrifice herself. And even if the person sacrificing themselves HAS to have king's blood, Dany is not the only character who could make this sacrifice.

Not to mention that Dany has already forged Lightbringer (the dragons), so I don't see why there would be any need of other sacrifices or magic to defeat the Others. It seems to me that the magic necessary was already achieved in Dany's ritual in AGOT, and that the fight against the Others will be determined by the character's actions, not by a last minute sacrifice or magic ritual that the characters just found out about. And in fact, GRRM has already stated in an interview that he doesn't like when magic is written like that:

Magic should never be the solution to the problem. My credo as a writer has always been Faulkner’s Nobel Prize acceptance speech where he said, “The only thing worth writing about is the human heart in conflict with itself.” That transcends genre. That’s what good fiction, good drama is about: human beings in trouble. You have to make a decision, you have to do something, your life is in danger or your honor is in danger, or you're facing some crisis of the heart. To make a satisfying story, the protagonist has to solve the problem, or fail to solve the problem – but has to grapple with the problem in some kind of rational way, and the reader has to see that. And if the hero does win in the end, he has to feel that that victory is earned. The danger with magic is that the victory could be unearned. Suddenly you're in the last chapter and you wind up with a deus ex machina. The hero suddenly remembers that if he can just get some of this particular magical plant, then he can brew a potion and solve his problem. And that's a cheat. That feels very unsatisfying. It cheapens the work. Well-done fantasy – something like Tolkien – he sets Lord of the Rings up perfectly, right at the beginning. The only way to get rid of the ring, the only way, is to take it to Mount Doom and throw it in the fires from which it comes. You know that right from the first. And if we'd gone through all that, and then at the end of the book suddenly Gandalf had said, wait a minute, I just remembered, here's this other spell, oh, I can get rid of the ring easily! You would have hated that. That would have been all wrong. Magic can ruin things. Magic should never be the solution. Magic can be part of the problem. (source)

Sure, one could argue that Dany sacrificing herself to perform some magic ritual and save the world is still a difficult decision that will have internal conflict, so it isn't a complete Deus Ex Machina or a cop out. But at least to me, it doesn't seem that GRRM will introduce some kind of new magic in the last book that will solve everything. Considering how he has been building up his heroes by having them gain experience in politics, military, I expect these things to be the most essential ones to their victory. I expect heroes like Dany, Jon and Tyrion to put to use their experience of conciliating people, leading, commanding armies, etc. At least in my opinion, it would be disappointing if the fate of the entire world was decided by just one person deciding to sacrifice themselves. And it would be a bit nonsensical as well, because again, why wouldn't any of Dany's followers offer to sacrifice themselves in her place? Why would anyone think that it's a good idea to sacrifice one of their main political leaders if anyone else could offer to sacrifice themselves? And if only Dany can be sacrificed because of some random magical blood or chosen one destiny, wouldn't that defeat the whole argument that what matters are people's actions, not their special blood or some prophecy? 

Aside from the fact that the magic shown in the books doesn't really make me think that self-sacrifice is necessary or that Dany needs to sacrifice herself, self-sacrifice is definitely not something that is the culmination of Dany’s character development. She has been self-sacrificial since the very first book, it’s not something she needs to learn and do to complete her character development. It’s not like Dany was some selfish person who needs to finally sacrifice herself for others to complete her arc, that’s not her story. That would be the kind of story that would make a lot more sense for characters like Jaime Lannister, someone who starts out as selfish and then realizes that he needs to be more selfless. Dany sacrificing herself, on the other hand, would be just more of the same. It would be Dany doing what she has been doing since the very first book: sacrificing herself for others. It's not character development, it's stagnant characterization. I would argue that if there's something that Dany needs to learn on that front, is to think more about herself, to think that she deserves things for herself, not the opposite. Dany has been in fact way too sacrificial the entire story, and that's not really a good or a healthy thing, so if there's anything Dany needs to learn, is to see the value in herself. And to me her character arc has been much more about politics and leadership, not about learning how to be more selfless.

Finally, I’ve also seen the idea that Dany’s last fire will be her sacrificing herself out of love for humanity. But that doesn’t seem to make much sense to me, because of two things. First, because her last fire is not “for love”, but “to love”. If Dany sacrifices herself in a fire because she loves humanity, it would be a fire for love, not a fire to love. Second, because the third phase in Dany’s story (Dany has three fires, three mounts, three treasons, and probably three rebirths) seems to be linked to sexual and romantic love, not general love for humanity (see this post for more details), and Dany’s bride of fire prophecy also suggests Jon as her husband, and Jon as the focus of her third prophecies, as well as the possibility that they might have a child (see here).

I might be wrong about all of this, and maybe Dany will indeed sacrifice herself to save the world (which would be very disappointing for me regardless). But I don't think Dany sacrificing herself in the end is as set in stone as many people in the fandom seem to think it is.

[wishesunderthestars]

Northern Lights // jhs

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x Reader

Summary: You have been getting too lost in your head lately and your boyfriend decides to take you on a trip to unwind. To Finland.

Genre: Fluff and only fluff

Word Count: 2,7k+

Warnings: None

A/N: This is a gift for @moccahobi for @castlebangtan​ ‘s Secret Santa event! I have been in a major writing slump for a month so I hope this turned out alright. I really hope you like it!!! <3

This certainly wasn’t how you had expected to spend winter break. What you had expected was more along the lines of scattered notebooks, textbooks that weighted a ton and sitting in front of your laptop for hours on end. That was light-years away from where you were now, getting off the plane in Finland.

The bone-biting cold made you clutch your backpack’s strap with one hand and your boyfriend’s hand with the other. You had expected the cold, after all you were in Finland, but its intensity had still managed to take you by surprise. You had always wanted to visit the Northern European countries but you hadn’t imagined it would happen like this. With Hoseok, you should have known to expect anything.

“I think it’s this way,” he said, tugging you through another gate.

“Please, tell me we aren’t lost already.” Finding the exit at the airport wasn’t supposed to be that hard.

Hoseok gave you a heart-shaped smile and you couldn’t resist smiling back, if a little exasperated. “We aren’t lost. See that sign? That sign says exit.”

You shook your head. “I’m going to ask someone.” Hoseok didn’t protest, although he was getting better at English it still wasn’t his strongest point.

Speaking with a woman who worked at the airport, you found out you had been going the wrong way all along. She was nice enough to help you and give you a few tips for navigating the airport. Following her directions you were able to find your way to the exit in half the time it had taken you to get lost, which was impressive since the Ivalo airport was rather small compared to what you were used to.

A car was waiting for you outside to take you to your hotel. You hadn’t packed a lot of things, fitting everything into a small red suitcase. You had considered carefully which clothes to take because dragging a monstrosity of a suitcase behind you would be a nightmare on a vacation you were supposed to be relaxing. Supposed to. Only that you weren’t supposed to be here either but in your apartment poring over your books and writing essays. And that wouldn’t let you relax.

There were so many things you should be doing, your “To Do List” was overflowing, and instead of ticking those boxes off you were on the other side of the world. On the airplane, all the way here, you had been trying very hard not to over-think about everything you had left behind unfinished. Hoseok had adamantly refused when you had suggested taking a few of your textbooks with you.

This trip had been entirely his idea, springing it on you two days before winter break started. The tickets had already been booked, the hotel paid and all you could do was whine about all the studying you should be doing instead. Whatever you said you couldn’t change his mind. You needed some time away from your textbooks and he wasn’t backing down. Most of your days were spent studying for University with barely any breaks and he was tired of it. Between that and his job you hadn’t been spending any time together other than sleeping and tired dinners. You were tired of it too and you could feel the thin tendrils of anxiety wrapping around your throat as your days ended in headaches.

So your books were left at your apartment and you were in Finland getting dragged after your overexcited boyfriend.

You looked out of the car window at the snow covered streets and mountains. Only pieces of the dark green trees peeked through the white.

“It’s beautiful,” you said.

“It is,” Hoseok agreed, following your gaze. He wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you against his chest. The interior of the car was warm and you melted into his embrace. “Who was right for coming here?”

You groaned. “Not so quickly. We are here for less than an hour and we managed to get lost once already. We have plenty of time for things to go wrong.”

Hoseok booed, sounding like a displeased child. “Don’t be such a pessimist. Everything is going to be amazing. And whatever happens we will have something to tell stories about and laugh when we go back. See, you’re already laughing.”

You leaned your head back against his shoulder. “But how? How did we manage to get lost at the airport? It was so small!”

“In my defense the signs were confusing.”

“In my defense it was your fault! If you had listened to me from the beginning we wouldn’t have gotten lost. Following everyone else is always the safest bet.”

“Always?” Hoseok asked. “I thought you weren’t a follower.”

“Oh, forget it,” you said causing him to laugh.

The car wasn’t going fast, allowing you to take in the scenery. It was like a winter wonderland, the kind of view you would see in a movie. When Hoseok had told you you were going to Finland, after the initial surprise and denial, you’d thought you would be staying in Helsinki. It went without saying that like all of your other expectations for this winter break, it ended up being far from the truth.

Your destination wasn’t Helsinki but the northern part of Finland, because the cold at the capital city wasn’t enough for you apparently. You had no idea what you were doing there. It was so far North the cold was seeping into your bones and making your teeth clatter. You doubted there were any cities around there. You were very curious to see what kind of hotel you would be staying at, some kind of resort most likely.

The car stopped and the driver opened your door for you. He picked up your suitcases and told you to follow him. Hoseok squeezed your glove-covered hand in excitement. The road ended there and you had to tread through the snow. Good thing you had been clever enough to wear sturdy boots. Walking under snow covered trees that still maintained their leaves, looking more like snow had landed on them for aesthetic purposes, the Finnish man talked to you about the resort.

“Do you understand what he’s saying?” Hoseok whispered conspiratorially. You shushed him and turned your attention back to the man, which only made your boyfriend laugh. The man was speaking very clear English and you were sure that Hoseok could understand the basics just fine.

When you arrived at the place you would be staying you couldn’t suppress the gasp that escaped you. Like a small village, wooden cabins were scattered around the area. Your first impression of the resort was an image pulled out straight from a winter fairytale. The man led you to a cabin that was bigger and looked different from the rest. He left your suitcases by the entrance and after wishing you a nice stay he walked away.

“Welcome to the Kakslauttanen Arctic Resort,” the woman behind the desk greeted you. She was wearing a smile warmer than the fire burning in the fireplace. She had her black hair pulled up in a ponytail and was wearing a warm orange jacket. “I hope your flight was good.”

“It was, thank you,” you replied.

“Welcome to Finland then, you chose just the right time to visit. Winter is always the most beautiful here.” She picked up a pen and looked at the large book laying open in front of her. “A cabin in the name of Jung Hoseok, am I correct?”

“Yes,” Hoseok said.

The woman wrote something down then turned to type on the computer. “You’re all set. I see you have already paid for everything in advance, the full pack. Here is your key.” She gave it to Hoseok, a traditional brass key with beautiful designs. A piece of wood was attached on the ring with the cabin number carved on it. “Our resort offers an array of activities to ensure the best stay possible for our guests; skiing, snowboarding, horse-riding. I am sure you can find something to your liking. Everything is in here.” She handed a booklet to you, a photo of the northern lights on the cover.

“Thank you,” you said.

“Don’t hesitate to call us if you have any questions or need anything at all. Our staff will be happy to help.” Before you could thank her again, she continued,  “You can use the sleights outside to take your suitcases to your cabin and then leave them by the door. Someone will pick them up.”

“We’ll do that, thank you.”

“Thank you,” Hoseok repeated.

“Have a nice stay!”

Pushing the suitcases on the sleights was a little harder but also funnier than you had imagined. By the time you found your cabin, you were both red from laughter and had completely forgotten about the cold. You left the sleights by the door like the woman had told you and opened the door. The cabin was as beautiful inside as it was outside. Other than the brown of the wood, red was the prevalent color. Red rugs covered the floor, red curtains, a red couch and a heavy red duvet on the bed.

A fire was burning in the fireplace. You inhaled the aroma of burning wood, for some reason it made everything feel more real. You abandoned your suitcase trying to take everything in.

“There is a sauna here!” you shouted from the bathroom. “There is actually a sauna in our bathroom!”

Hoseok wrapped his arms around your waist, bumping his nose with yours. “Who is the best boyfriend ever?”

You pretended to think. “Most of my friends are single to be honest.” Hoseok knocked his head against yours, just with enough force to push your head back. “Ow! Alright, alright. It’s you, okay?”

“Yeah,” Hoseok cheered, picking you up and carrying you outside of the bathroom against your protests. He threw you on the bed and jumped next to you. “We’re going to have the best time here and you will forget all about University and studying. I don’t want to hear anything about textbooks and essays while we’re here.”

“Not even about that fascinating-” You were cut off by a pillow being thrown in your face. “Huh? So this is how it’s going to be? Get ready!” You picked up the pillow while Hoseok rushed to get the other one. Fortunately for you none of the pillows got torn while you hit each other with them. You couldn’t remember the last time you had laughed so much.

You fell back on the bed trying to catch your breath. Half of Hoseok’s body was out of the bed trying to reach the pillow that had fallen on the floor. You held on his foot. He was dangerously close to falling face first on the floor right next to the pillow.

“Oh god, now all the exhaustion is coming back,” you said, closing your eyes. Keeping them open was becoming too hard. It was still early in the morning, you had the whole day ahead of you.

Hoseok wriggled in your grasp. He had finally picked up the pillow. “Nap time!” he announced when he was safely back on the bed. “I want to see the huskies later.”

That was the last thing you heard before you gave into your exhaustion, thus you dreamed of snow and huskies and one of your professors chasing after you on a sleight. By all regards, it should have been more scary, but the way she stumbled and shrieked every time the sleight jostled extinguished any fear her appearance might have caused you.

When you woke up, Hoseok was already up, unpacking your suitcases. You would be staying at the resort for six days and it would be easier to store your clothes in the wardrobe. Yawning, you stretched your arms above the head.

“My sleeping beauty is awake,” Hoseok said, placing the shirt he was folding in the wardrobe. He knelt on the bed, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Did you sleep well?”

“The best I have in a while.” You leaned closer brushing your lips against his. Hoseok didn’t hesitate to pull you closer, smiling into the kiss. “Already got to working?”

“Someone has to do it and I wasn’t about to wake you up.”

You placed another kiss on his lips before getting up. “Let’s get this done with. I want to see the rest of this place.”

The resort was much larger than you had thought originally. There was a large restaurant, places like caves with the interior carved entirely from ice and a lot of areas dedicated to all the different activities the resort had to offer. You spent the rest of the morning strolling around, making plans for the rest of your stay. Now that you were here, you were determined to try everything. Hoseok was a little more apprehensive about some of the activities but he’d always had trouble saying no to you.

You ate lunch at the restaurant and you didn’t know if it was because you were really hungry or because of the atmosphere or because the food was actually that good but it was one of the best meals you’d ever had. Hoseok was making funny faces at you and you almost chocked on a meatball. You were shedding your stress like a snake changing skin.

In the afternoon you went to meet the huskies. They barked playfully and nibbled on your hands. You found out that they loved neck massages and after a few minutes of petting they demanded belly rubs. Hoseok was cooing the whole time, looking like he was debating taking one of them back home with him. You had similar thoughts.

“Come on, we need to go on a sleight ride. Look at these cuties, they are going to take care of us. Aren’t you? Aren’t you going to take care of us?” The dog sighed in pleasure as you rubbed his neck.

“We can go tomorrow,” Hoseok offered, eying the sleight.

“We can,” you agreed. “But we won’t. We will today. One day isn’t going to change anything. Just get on the sleight, I’ll be the one behind.”

“But-”

“Do you really want to be the one climbing at the back of the sleight?”

Yeah, Hoseok really couldn’t say no to you.

The sky was turning dark when you laid down on the second bed in the cabin. This one was right under the glass dome, granting you the perfect view of the Northern Lights. You had changed into your pajamas and cozied up under the covers with your head laying on Hoseok’s chest. The fire was still burning, the tiny sounds of the wood scorching wood interrupted the silence.

You took a deep breath. You had complained all the way here, at first because you were too afraid to fall behind your studying, then gradually to keep up the appearances. But after seeing this place… you couldn’t complain anymore. Not when Hoseok had taken you to what looked and felt like paradise on earth.

“Are you falling asleep?” Hoseok whispered.

“Not for a while yet,” you said. “I can feel the jet lag taking hold.”

He chuckled, tracing his fingers up your back. “Same. We’ll fight it together.”

Silence stretched for a few minutes. “Thank you. For bringing me here. I might be difficult some times but I really appreciate it. Sometimes I let my worries get the best of me. Thank you for being there to pull be back before I get lost in them.”

“I’ll always be there for you. Whatever those worries are, University, work, life, I’ll always be there to help you out.” His hands were surprisingly warm as they slipped under your shirt and caressed the small of your back. “We take care of each other.”

“Today was… Today was incredible. It made me realize that I have been in my head too much. I’m sorry for forgetting that I have such an amazing boyfriend I can rely on.”

Hoseok rubbed his nose against yours. “Forgiven. I’m sorry too for working too much and not paying more attention to my amazing girlfriend.”

You kissed him getting lost in the moment. When you opened your eyes again and glanced up, you were met with the sight of electric green swirls in the sky.

“Look,” you whispered against Hoseok’s lips. The lights brightened the night, their reflections shining in Hoseok’s eyes. It was the most beautiful sight you had ever seen. You intertwined your fingers with Hoseok’s as you watched the celestial dance of light across the sky.

[mandalorewhore]

Two Steps Ahead

PART THREE OF HUNTER (formerly hunter and prey)

gif by @princessxkenobi

Rating: Explicit Content Warnings: SMUT, Fighting as Foreplay, Rough Sex, Penetrative Sex(PIV), Unprotected Sex, Dirty talk, Praise kink, Size kink, Big Dick Mando, Top Mando, Sub/Dom elements, Very slight Pain Kink, possible CNC elements although I didn’t write that I also want to warn anyone who doesn’t want to read about rough sex with physical fighting as foreplay Words: 6.9k AO3 LINK

Summary: Reader and Mando start tracking their first bounty together

A/N: i believe things are happening...interesting

***

 “I feel like you have a distinct advantage here.” A bead of sweat drips over your brow as you mop at your sweltering forehead in irritation. Your temple throbs as you press on it, pain shooting down your neck at the pressure.

       It’s so fucking humid here. You’re tracking one of Mando’s bail jumpers in the middle of a boggy swamp planet that you never caught the name of and you’ve been walking through the forest for at least 24 hours, only stopping for water and ration breaks. Based on the holo-map you’re currently staring at, this entire planet is one big swamp, with no escape from the damp, sticky environment.

 The thing barely makes sense, a jumble of colors and shapes that worsens your headache the longer you try to figure it out. You had borrowed a thin shirt from Mando before setting out, but it does little to protect you from the buzzing swarms of insects, while at the same time it reflects just enough heat to have you sweltering.

 Mando acts unbothered under all that padding and armor, trekking through the trees without any visible sign of struggle. You don’t understand how he can stay awake for so long without caf, yourself being covered in caf-patches to keep from passing out. It’s probably somewhat dangerous to have so much of the stimulant coursing through your veins, but oh well. If my heart gives out then at least I’ll escape the bugs.  

       “Footprints aren’t the only way to track a quarry.” He returns mildly, moving swiftly over tangled tree-roots to avoid the pools of murky water that litter the forest floor. You move with less grace behind him, trying to climb slippery wood and juggle the holo at the same time. The twisted trees of this planet seem to reach inward to point at the forest floor, giving you the impression of being trapped within their clutches. The eerie feeling isn’t helped by the distinct lack of light, odd lichen tendrils drape between branches to create a blanket that absorbs most natural light from the sky. A faint glow emanates from the tendrils, basking the forest with ghostly illumination. You scramble to the top of the particularly tall root he’s perched on then plop down to catch your breath.

       “No, it’s not the only way,” you pause to take a swig from your water skin, dabbing off the spilled drops from your chin with your sleeve, “but the footprints      you    track are apparently all glowy and red. I get to look with my naked eyes for shit like depressions in the ground, which is so fun considering the only paths here are solid wood.”

       Mando rolls his helmet on his shoulders, the effect similar to someone rolling their eyes. When he speaks it’s short and gruff, annoyed by your attitude. Which is… appropriate. The hours you’ve spent walking in this heat together is starting to snap both of your tempers. “Stop complaining.”

 He’s not wrong about the footprints. You’re mostly annoyed because of how useless you feel, more like you’re tagging along than assisting him on the hunt. Drawing your eyebrows together you try to come up with a plan. Most of those mercenary skills you talked up for Karga don’t apply here, this naturalistic setting is too messy and... wild. Unpredictable. You’re used to the structure that comes with starships and cities, places engineered and civilized.

 Tracking people isn’t very hard, you’ve done it plenty of times before. The only issue is that all of your practice came from environments where they left clear signs of direction, displaced gravel indicating a shoe-print, broken branches, a trail in sand. It also helps that your targets didn’t know they were being stalked. The only path here is over hard wooden tree roots, with nothing to indicate direction, not even moss grows over the foot trail for traveling feet to mark. You take in a deep breath and hold it for several seconds before letting out all your air in one huge swoop.

       “I’m sorry, “ you tell him sincerely, “I want to help you -and not just for a bigger cut. Is there anything I can do?” You truly do feel bad for snapping at him even if you know you’re right about his advantage. Just because you don’t have fancy thermal settings and footprint tracking doesn’t mean you’re useless. The Mandalorian settles his hands on his hips and surveys the area, looking for a task to assign you. His helmet tilts up and lingers on the trees, and you’re already two steps ahead before he can voice his idea.

       “I can climb,” you interject, standing up swiftly and moving. “Trees can’t be more slippery than a spacecraft.”

       He nods in acknowledgment. “Find something and your cut goes up by five percent.”

       “Ten percent.” You grin at him cheekily, wanting to tease him even if he won’t give it to you.

       “Eight, if you find somewhere to camp.”

       “Deal.” You return, already halfway to the widest tree you can reach without getting your feet wet. The trunk is covered in knots and twisted vines, ugly but providing fantastic handholds for your hands and feet. Grabbing hold of a sturdy looking ledge you begin your ascent.

 The climb is fairly easy even with the woods damp surface, and you reach the forest canopy with minimal effort. Carefully squirreling around the thin top-most branches you attempt to find a break-through point, the wood beneath you bowing a little from your weight.

 When you finally poke your head through and see the sky you gasp, taken aback by the sight. You hadn’t hung around in the cockpit during landing, instead choosing to pack the bags while Mando skillfully piloted his ship. The forest floor is all you’ve seen of the planet and apparently you’ve missed a lot.

       The sky here is beautiful, a color palette that is completely opposite from the dark, damp underbelly of the forest ground. Swirling aquamarine clouds float lazily in the sky, speckling the orange hued atmosphere above you. There are at least 6 pale moons lined up on the horizon from edge to edge, stars twinkling around each orb as if drawn to their orbit. You drink in the sight greedily, the ache in your head lessening in the natural light. This is      so     much better than the cold stark metal of space stations that you’re used to living on.

 It’s hard to tell the time based on the sky alone, the moons must be constantly present in the sky no matter the time of day and you can’t find a single sun. Maybe this planet lives off the light and heat from each moon, reflected from a distant star? The thought is lovely but you don’t think it’s possible. You file the image away for your daydreams then divert your eyes back to the thick forest, searching for anything useful to tell Mando.

       The line of trees is unbroken, a sea of dark green leaves and glowing lichen. An orange sky helps to warm up the pale glow from the lichen but it’s eeriness still sends a shiver through you. Everything on the horizon is of even height, betraying nothing within its depths. It isn’t ideal. You gnaw your lip anxiously, dreading to return to Mando without any information especially on your first hunt together. Eyes flitting around desperately, you try to analyze any possible breaks in the natural pattern of trees.

     Could that be a settlement there? You think, looking at a slightly thinner section of forest that might roughly be three miles away. You aren’t sure about the planet’s curvature and how flat the terrain is so you double check the holo, looking for the information.

 Something catches your eye as you’re pulling up the data, just substantial enough in your peripheral version that you stop what you’re doing. There is a mist rising from that thinned area, far enough away that you mistook it as some sort of lighting effect from the overwhelming color palette here. That has to be steam right? It’s too thick to be naturally occurring from the bog. There must be machinery over there. A settlement hopefully.

 You’re about to climb down when you pause, looking at the still lit holo with renewed curiosity. Something about the map visually paired with your clear view of the forest allows the pieces to fall in place. When you compare the shape of the map to the trees you’re finally able to make sense of what you previously thought was a topographical mess. A built pathway lies here, a body of water there. And clearings. Several clearings not too far from where you are now, the perfect size to settle down in. Hopefully they’re dry.

 Either the caf-patches are finally sending you into cardiac arrest or you’re manically happy to finally be of help to your hunting partner, but either way, you’re grinning so widely that your teeth clatter together.

 “Hey Mando! Guess what you owe me?” You shout down at the ground, beginning to descend. You’re so excited that you practically slide down the vines, jumping to the ground when you’re several feet high in the air, sore muscles creaking at the impact. The Mandalorian is sitting now, resting with his elbow propped on his knee while he waited for you to come back. There’s a soft pang in your chest and you wonder if he’s tired. You brush it off, feeling as though you’re just projecting, and instead grin widely at him in triumph. “7 percent increase for me!”

 He lifts his helmet and looks you up and down. “What did you find?”

 You reply chirpily, hands grasped behind your back and shit-eating grin still plastered on your face. “There is a settlement of some kind roughly three miles that way,” you point in the direction where you saw the steam, “and several clearings nearby suitable to camp in, if we don’t want to head in right away. Oh, also we aren’t on the actual path used by locals here, the asset must be making an effort to hide.”

 “That isn’t very smart of them,” Din observes, shaking his head at the concept. “Busy path hides more prints.”

 “Hm…” You take that in, wondering what other techniques a quarry may use to shake its hunter.

 It occurs to you that there is a lot you could learn from the Mandalorian, since so far hunting someone has been notably different from your mercenary missions. You’ll find a moment to ask questions later once you’re settled down for the night, wherever that’ll be. “Do you want to camp or find the maybe-settlement?”

 “We should camp,” he responds immediately, rising from his seated position and walking closer to you, “we don’t know what we’ll face there. You can choose the area, since you climbed the tree.”

 You pull up the holo-map again and zoom in on the different options, feeling far more energized now that you actually know what you’re doing. There are two spots that seem encouraging, both a short hike away from where you are now but removed enough to grant you some privacy. You’ll still need to set up a watch to prevent ambush or stray travelers from finding you but it’ll be easier if you make an effort to hide. One of the clearings seems to have a running water source, you hope it’s cleaner than the still-water you’re currently surrounded by. Maybe you can bathe there too.

 “Lets go here,” you pull up the coordinates for Mando, “that looks like a stream, right?”

 He leans into your body for a closer look, broad chest just brushing against you in a way that sends flutters through your tummy. You know he can zoom in with his visor, there is no reason he needs to be so close to you except for your benefit. He seems to enjoy messing with you like this, throwing you off with unexpected touches, looks, and gestures. It’s like a game he plays and you’d be far more annoyed by his teases if it wasn’t so exciting.

 “Looks good,” he rumbles low in his chest. “Fresh water would be nice.”

 Your heart quickens, but you tried to hide your reaction by teasing him back, tapping your fingers on his helm and stepping away. “I was hoping to clean myself up, actually…”

 Mando straightens up at this, visor locked on your face.

 “Lead the way.” He returns quietly, giving away nothing. Trying not to smile, you start off in the direction of the clearing, for once moving faster than your armored companion.

 Your goal isn’t very far, only about 3 miles north of your previous position and a mile adjacent to the settlement you’ll pay a visit to tomorrow. Large, fuzzy fronds of an alien fern droop down the sides of the hollow clearing, providing a barrier between the forest and empty space in between. The trees still tangle above the open area, blocking out part of the beautiful sky, save a few of the large moons, and old pieces of charcoal are ground into the sandy earth here, a sight that makes you a little anxious. This spot must be used by others, you’ll have to be more careful with setting up the watch than expected.

 The water source turns out to be a small spring set on the edge of a cliff at the far end of the clearing, a sizable waterfall cascading down the side and gathering in a crystalline pool. Skipping ahead of Mando to the edge of the pool you crouch and dip your fingers in the cool water, sighing in relief as it relieves some of the warmth in your overheated body.

 You’re unable to hear Mando’s approach - how he is so stealthy under 50 pounds of metal escapes you, but you feel him behind you. You smirk. Arching your back as you rise, you turn around slowly and begin to make eyes in his direction however, when you actually see what he's doing, you cringe at yourself in embarrassment. He’s not looking like you assumed, instead he is surveying the clearing skeptically, body-language imbued with disapproval. Your heart simultaneously sinks to your stomach and contracts in frustration. You thought you had finally done something right.

 “What? Is something wrong?” You ask him tightly, subtly shrinking in on yourself in disappointment. You try to hide this by fiddling idly with a stray thread on your tunic, stubbornly keeping your head lifted high despite wishing you could disappear. He doesn’t respond right away, instead turning and walking the length of the clearing then back, stopping just in front of you sharply. You meet his visor with your eyes, holding the look until you feel like you’re burning up in shame from the pressure of it.

 “It’s too… open,” he finally says, voice halting as he tries to find the correct words. “Anyone could walk into our camp.”

 “I figured we’d set up a watch. There’s only one entrance-”

 He interrupts you. “One ground entrance. Anyone can climb down from the trees.”

 “Maybe, but this planet isn’t supposed to be dangerous, is it? Practically abandoned,” You huff out, fists clenching at your sides as you argue with him. “Besides. It’s… pretty here.”

 The Mandalorian sighs, pinching the helmet just below the visor where his nose bridge would be. “Fine. I’ll take the first watch. No fire.”

 Nodding in response, you cross the clearing and set your bag down on a log, letting out a sigh in relief. That’s fine by you, you don’t need the extra warmth and the glowing lichen provides enough light to get by. You really did not want to hike again after moving for 24 hours straight. Mando mirrors your movements, leaning his rifle next to your pack before settling on the sandy earth. A loaded pause passes between you, earlier implications at the forefront of your minds.

 Letting out a shuddering breath you crouch down and pull your old tunic from your bag, slinging it over your shoulder before making your way back to the small pond. The water is completely clear, an inviting sight after the marshy puddles that made up the forest ground on your way here. You’re facing the water now but you’re still well aware of the man behind you, the intensity of his gaze burning even through the impassive visor. The invitation is clear. Take it off.  

 But you aren’t sure if you want to give him that yet. The exhaustion from today has wrung you dry, small bickerings between you and your work partner dampening the sweet mood leftover from Nevarro. Apologizing with sex isn’t really your thing. You’d rather stoke the mutual respect between you as allies instead of start up a pattern of fighting then making up.

 You crouch at the water's edge, peering into the depths for a moment before splashing your face with cold water, fresh scar throbbing as blood rushes to the surface of your face. The spare tunic you grabbed just brushes the surface of the water, sending ripples throughout your reflection. Curious, you lean over and observe the way the mirror-like pond breaks off into fragments, bits of you here and there mixing in with the moons that lay on russet sky.

     Like a painting. You think in awe, having only seen a couple of the artifacts in person. The richest target you were assigned to owned two pieces of art, real paintings on real paper, encased in transparisteel viewing cases before you smashed open the backing to wonder at them. You close your eyes and try to recall the texture of the paint before the rest of your memory catches up and sours the whole thing. The man's home had to be burned in order to erase evidence, his paintings too large to smuggle out of the city.

 When you open your eyes the pond has settled with your reflection only- you’re not alone.

 “Maker!” You jump at the sight of the Mandalorians gleaming helmet appearing in the reflection. “What the fuck, you sneak.”

 He just chuckles in response and offers you a hand, which you take firmly while rolling your eyes and standing. He leads you back to sit with him on the sandy earth, taking ration bars out of his pack- not yours, and breaking them evenly between you. The gesture is surprisingly tender and none too appreciated what with your stomach growling audibly at the bland meal. All at once, you are reminded by the spattering of caf-patches on your limbs, the jitteriness becoming more apparent now that you’re finally still. You’re shaking. Mando notices as well.

 “You may explode.” He remarks, prompting you to start pulling off the stimulant, crumpling each piece and setting them neatly in a pile at your knee.

 “Good, let me explode. You’re too bossy to work with.” You return with a smirk, hoping your sarcasm lands. He hums in response, pulling one of the patches off of your forearm and flicking it in your direction for you to catch.

 Tutting, you roll the patch into a ball and set it at the top of your pile. “Don’t leave a mess, this forest is ugly but at least it’s untouched,” you tell him firmly. Mando just nods.

 The ration bars are hardly a delicacy but you shove them in your mouth all the same, appreciating the engineering behind them. They are so calorie rich that a piece the size of your palm can keep you going for hours. However, your body can’t seem to relax despite the food lining your belly- perhaps you actually overdid the caf. You should be tired right now. Staying awake for more than a day isn’t exactly the average schedule but your knee bounces uncontrollably in a frantic pattern, stirring up puffs of sand between you and the warrior.

 “You need to tire.” Mando mutters, firmly placing a glove on your thigh and holding the limb down. “Stop that.”

 “Sorry,” you reply, trying to freeze yourself and sit as still as he does. Mando always exists so sagely, like a monk. Completely calm when he wants to be before exploding into action, no warm-up necessary. You wonder if he had some sort of meditation training to achieve that. Is that why he sits like that in the cockpit, his back rod straight like a statue? Weirdo.

 “Hey…” The palm at your thigh presses again and you suck in a sharp breath. You didn’t even realize you were twitching again. “Do I have to hold you down?” He growls.

 You gulp. “Tempting. But no.” Your words come out steadier than you feel. The caf becomes all too much in that moment so you lurch to your feet, his gleaming helmet following your body as it rises jerkily. You feel far too energetic, needing to get the energy out somehow so you can finally pass out. Your idea leaves your mouth before you can truly think it over.

 “Wanna fight?”

 “...What?” Mando sounds truly surprised even if his body betrays nothing.

 “You heard me,” you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet, swaying back and forth like a green sailor on the oceans of Mon Cala. “Let's practice our combat, I rarely get to do that.”

 He’s standing before you can blink causing you to jerk back, startled by his speed. The Mandalorian poses right in front of you, too close to not be a challenge with his weight settled on one leg breezily.

 “Okay. Hit me.”

     What a taunting mother fu-  You swing your left hand out as if aiming for the unarmored spot on his ribs, which he blocks with ease… leaving his throat open for your right fist to sharply jab.

 The bounty hunter doubles over, coughing and clutching his neck with one hand.

 “O-Oh shit! I’m sorry, I- I didn’t mean, let me-” You scramble with lost movements, trying and failing to help him straighten upright. It leaves you awkwardly placing your palms on his back while the crown of his helmet presses into your belly. “I, um… Mando?”

 His arms wrap around your middle in a flash, pulling you tightly against his chest and throwing both your bodies to the ground. It happens so fast that you can’t even shriek before the air is knocked out of you, hitting the sand hard enough to throw it into the air around you. Gasping, you smack full force at the Mandalorian on top of you, his arms still crushing you against him while your legs lock straight together with his knees on either side. It’s sexy, but you’d really like to breathe. He lets up just barely.

 “Nice punch,” he rasps, throat clearly affected by the hit. “Don’t think I’ll hold back after that though.”

 “Don’t… want… you to…” You shoot back at him, sharp as you can manage while wheezing. Mandos visor raises ever so slowly and pins you, hidden eyes holding you down more effectively than his body. After a drawn out moment of this, your head spinning as you calculate your escape strategy, he crawls up your body to prop himself above you, locking your wrists in one large hand with the other presses against your chest, shoving your back into the earth. It is just enough pressure to squeeze some air out of your lungs and it is then when you know he isn’t kidding about not holding back.

 You’re so fucking happy that he isn’t letting you win.

 In other instances, you’d panic at the hopeless feeling of being trapped like this, by someone twice your size and clad in the galaxy’s most powerful steel. But the way he spars with you now, full force and not playing easy... it has implied respect for your skill. He knows you can fight and doesn’t spare you the opportunity to prove it.

 Only a second or two has passed since he fully immobilized you and you’re still locked in your flattened position. When he motions to stand, pulling your wrists as if to drag you, you know you must make your move now or it will be too late. The only spot he has open on his body right now is… well, right between his legs. The first thing a smaller fighter learns about combating larger foes is to fight dirty and there is no reason you should hold back if Mando isn’t. Your legs had been pinned tightly together before he moved to drag you but now there is just enough room to swing a knee up and hit him between the legs.

 Mando doesn’t wear a full codpiece but luckily for you, the padding on his groin isn’t enough to block your kick. A choked sound rips out of his throat and he falls to one knee, the fingers encircling your wrists loosening slightly while he struggles to fight his body’s natural pain response. You wrench one hand free and use it to grip his cowled neckline, planting your feet against his cuirass and swinging yourself into a hanging position before his grip tightens again. He's steady but you try to dig your feet in to throw him forward, hoping to twist around and land on his back with his face down. He totters for one frozen second, both your bodies on the precipice of falling but unfortunately, he manages to wrench himself backwards and land heavily on his back with you on top.

 You’re both gasping and groaning at the shock of hitting the ground so hard, and for one breathless moment all you do is stare heatedly at each other on the forest floor, eyes locking through his visor and somehow you know he is grinning.

 His smile mirrors on your face when you feel his hands rip at your clothes, wrenching the thin pants off of you down to your thighs forcefully enough to knock your legs together with a dull thud.

 “Did I not just kick you in the dick, Mando?” You laugh, working at his belt at the same time. He palms your ass through your underwear greedily, squeezing so hard that you know finger shaped bruises will blossom there.

 “You missed.”

 “Must’ve hurt either way…” You mutter, finally managing to reach under his thick layers and wrap your hand around his length, producing a low growl from the man beneath you. “Maybe, it's good I missed.”

 The only response you get is his hands pulling both your hands to lay on his chest plate then traveling back down your body to tug aside your underwear and grind you down onto his hips, rubbing your now bare slit against his bulge. You vaguely remember deciding against coming onto him as a form of apology, but for some reason, since he started first that all ceases to matter. It feels like a game you’ve begun to play with each other, playing with the tension between you and the Mandalorian until you find out what breaks your resolve. Maybe it started even before you entered this forest, perhaps back on Nevarro or even on the station.

 You can’t tell but you don’t want to question it either.

 A moan falls from your throat, your hands moving on their own volition to try and remove his belt entirely, or at least enough to pull his cock out. Mando’s glove flashes up again to circle your wrists, immobilizing them and harshly pinning you down with his vambrace lain across your back.

 “You yield?” He asks, voice dripping with a sickly triumph. A chill runs down your back and you feel as if he just dunked you into the pond.

 “W-What?”

 “You yield… I win?”

 “Wha- No!” You cry out indignantly, struggling against his iron grip. “I didn’t realize we were still sparring!”

 He laughs, fully bodied and dark with some emotion that swirls deep within your core, and you can’t put your finger on it exactly but you know you’ll have to do something before you’re swept up entirely. “Oh, but we are. What shall the winner gain?” He asks, so quietly that it is almost lost in the warped modulator, barely a question and more so a crackling of static.

 Fuck, you’re so wet.

 You lick your lips and shakily respond. “I am not one to give up, however-”

 “Then don’t. Keep fighting.”

 Oh, and you love what he implies. There is no reason to argue further and less time to act, so you immediately struggle hard with the upper half of your body, wrenching your wrists to try and distract him from the way your legs are free to swing into his ribs. But Mando doesn’t fall for your feint a second time. In fact, he seems to have expected it, his leg is more than prepared to hook around the back of your knees and hold you against his body, rolling to the side to throw you underneath him.

 You’re pinned on your back with nearly his full weight, unable to do more than weakly punch at what you can reach- unfortunately for you all you can reach is armor. Your cry of anger is cut short when Mando flips onto your front, your chest pressed roughly to the floor of the forest.

 The helmet appears over your shoulder, his ragged breathing right by your ear. “T-This okay? You want this?” You can’t find your words to respond with the way you're held so tightly against the earth, so you nod as best you can with one cheek pressed into the ground. Mando snarls something furiously, one hand leaving your back to fumble with his pants and pull his cock out, lining himself up at your soaking entrance and running the head through your folds.

 His helmet drops back down to your shoulder, the visor turning and burying itself into the line of your neck and you know that if he weren’t bound by his creed then he would be kissing dark bruises there.

  “You know this means I win,” he hisses, pressing his cock to breach your tight opening ever so slightly.

 “I-I know.” You whimper weakly.

 With that, he fully pushes himself into you and if you weren’t so wet you know his size would be unbearably painful. Instead, the stretch is pure bliss, a slow burning sensation that has a hint of sting to it, his dominance lending to complete submission and all you can do is lay there and take it. There is still the strain you grew to know from when he allowed you to use his body on Nevarro, but something about Mando topping you encourages you to open yourself for him with more ease.

 He quickly bottoms out then holds himself till, allowing you to adjust to his size. You’re writhing as much as possible under the way he crushes you to the floor, knees carving grooves in the soft sandy earth.

 “Fuck,” Mando grits, teeth clenched together so hard that you swear you can hear the grinding in his jaw. “You’re so fucking tight, fuck.”  

 The position is hard to maintain on the soft ground, his hands keep sliding ever so slightly on either side of you forcing him to adjust every few seconds. His patience breaks after the third time this happens, a growl crackling through the helmet as he settles his hands on your lower back and hoists his body up, knees planted on either side of your thighs, crushing them together with intense pressure on your clit. Your body is locked tight, pussy clenching harder around his cock when he rises into an upright position.

 You let out a genuine scream when he draws back then thrusts sharply into you, pain mixing with pleasure in a manner far more biting than on his ship, when he had let you take control entirely, never even doing so much as to thrust into you. It is almost too much for you but even while you struggle to take his cock, you don’t      dare    tell him to stop, nor do you want him to stop. You’re so blinded by the stretch that you don’t realize he is speaking until you miss several, distorted words.

 “Fuck, why did I wait, why did I wait? I should’ve fuck-fucked you back on the station, approached you in that hangar and made myself fucking clear-”    Each gritted word is accentuated by a mean thrust, his dick is so big that he has to shove himself inside of you rather than glide, breaking you open in a way that burns so sweetly. Your legs are held together, knees locked and straight, which doesn’t help how tight you are but you can’t budge at all to open yourself to Mando, his hands pressing down at your lower back so heavily that you’re short of breath.

 A garbled moan is forced out of you when Mando grinds his length into your pussy as deep as he can possibly reach, hips smashing against your ass while he pulses inside of you and for a second you think he's cumming. But no- he draws himself from your depths and starts to rut his cock between your cheeks, head resting on your upper back and hands by your head.

 A powerful hand wraps under your side and settles at your sternum, pulling you back against his cuirass and lifting so that you end up seated together, fitting against him without even an inch of space between your bodies. His hand lifts your hips, other appendage snaking around to position his cock back at your entrance before allowing gravity to do the work, your legs spreading to rest on either side of his thighs as you sink down on him to the hilt.

 Once settled, Mando starts to work you on his cock, lifting you like you weigh no more than a pebble then letting go. The head of his cock slams full force into your pussy with the weight of your entire body, each brutal pounding sending sparks of pleasure up your spine. Lungs free and no longer crushed to the floor, you’re unable to stay quiet, broken sobs and moans puffing from gritted teeth as he takes what he denied himself on his ship, the memory a thousand miles away as your processing center is fucked stupid.

 You can’t say how long this goes on for, maybe minutes, maybe hours, but the next thing you know is that your cheek is back on the sand, burning from the way it chaffs against the floor with each rhythmic thrust that claps against your thighs. You’re don’t even know if you’ve cum yet but it doesn’t matter, not with the way he is fucking the life out of you here in the wilderness. Mando is still talking, still uttering filth and praise through the helmet and all you can think about is how badly you want to hear his real voice speaking that way to you, you’re so close to asking him to take it off but you can’t find the words, you can’t think, you can’t-

 Abruptly, he grinds to a halt at the deepest point in your body then pulls himself free, pushing your shirt up lighting fast before cumming across your back with a choked exclamation. You’re both still for a second before your knees collapse, landing flat on your belly and gasping desperately. There is a shuffling noise behind you, accompanied with heavy breaths from the bounty hunter. It sounds like he’s rummaging through something then, yeah- your train of thought is confirmed when a wet cloth wipes his pleasure from your skin, gently trailing along your spine and ass.

 You reach behind you and hold his wrist, feeling the fluttering pulse there. “I’ll win next time…” You whisper, drawing his hand along the soreness on your bottom, the area he bruised, you suspect. He laughs- or pants you can’t really tell, but either way his touch becomes more gentle on your body, smoothing out the tense muscles and cleaning you up. Today's travels with the man have suddenly caught up to you and you might pass out right here, half clothed and dirty.

 “Come on, get up. Don’t sleep here.” Mando firmly states, helping you up and guiding you across the clearing after you pull your leggings up from where they gathered at your ankle. You’re trembling like a leaf, fragile in your spent state but glowing all the same. Mando sets you down on a log and brings you a canteen of water which you gulp down thankfully. He chuckles. “Wait up or I’ll have to drink from the spring.”

 That gives you pause, reminding you of something he said while you lay beneath him. You’re slightly nervous to ask but you do it anyway, warm and satisfied on your perch while he cares for you. “You.. When you were, um- fucking me. Well, you said something about how you shouldn’t have waited. Does that mean what I think it means?”

 He nods, “I noticed you for other reasons too, burc’ya.”

 “Maybe you should’ve fucked me back then.” Taking another gulp then handing the canteen back, you stretch then slide down to sit on the ground with him, back against the log. “You said that word before, ber-borshaw?”

 “Burc’ya.”He corrects,“It means friend in Mando’a.”

 “Oh.”You cheeks heat, feeling silly and rude for not recognizing the use of his people’s tongue, also noting that he used it to refer to you twice now, endearingly. It is an honor, one that makes you nervous. You feel like you should apologize, somehow. “Y-You speak Mando’a? I’ve never heard you use it before.”

 Mando settles against the log, leaning his broad shoulders to rest against the wood near your side. A few moments pass before he responds, “I chose to not use it around the others. Didn’t trust them.”

 “Oh, so you trust me?” You giggle, tapping the side of his helmet with your elbow. Questions burn within you and you may as well ask now, in the quiet afterglow of sex where everything is warm and slow. “Why didn’t you trust them if you started the company with Ran? How am I any different?”

 “You aren’t ruthless,” he surprises you by answering immediately, and you can’t decide whether you're insulted or not before he continues. “Ruthless and cruel is all that group ended up being, and it didn’t start out that way. We weren’t just mercenaries, we had a      code.    In the early days, attacking a slave ship would’ve been out of the question. Ran wasn’t always so full of greed.”

 Silence falls after he speaks, letting you mull over his explanation for a while while the waterfall rumbles in the background. Really, his perspective confuses you when you think back on your actions as a mercenary. Desperate to climb the ranks, to make a name for yourself, to earn credits and reputation. You suppose you conducted yourself with empathy, avoiding selection for hits that targeted innocent people if you could help it. You never had much choice in the area but it seems your actions spoke louder than realized. So much energy spent to avoid seeming weak and you never considered that your aversion doubled as strength.

 “Friend…” You whisper, not of your own accord. The word floats on your tongue, a specter within your vocabulary. In your adulthood you’ve had allies, you’ve had teammates, you’ve had acquaintances, but to have a friend… it terrifies you as much as it warms your heart. You considered yourself partnered professionally with the Mandalorian and didn’t      dare    to consider yourself lovers, no matter how much you privately hoped. But a friend is a luxury you didn’t hold close, mainly out of fear. You lost too many as a child. For a faceless man he manages to strike areas that are quite intimate.

 You decide that you’ll enjoy being his friend, a bit surprised that you aren’t too hurt by what is essentially a romantic rejection of the crush you held for so long. Probably because this is      real    , solid and built within reality instead of the silly fantasies you built prior.

     This is better than lovers, you tell yourself, the slight ache in your heart melting into the background of your desires, behind lock and key for another world.

 “I’ll take ‘friend’, Mando.” You grin, extending a hand to him cheekily. He stares for a second before taking it and shaking, helmet tilting in a respectful nod.

 His next words send an unexpected pang throughout your chest, taking all the careful walls you worked hard to set up and throwing them into a blazing inferno.

 “Let’s see where it goes.”

  Fuck.  

   ----------------

   Leather boots prance lightly through thick branches high in the trees, footfalls landing silently with all the grace of an athlete. Through the delicate glasses perched on the pursuers nose, a red glow blooms on the shadowy floor of the swamp, two sets of footprints lighting up to reveal a steady path made by the travelers. A musical giggle bubbles out of the darkly dressed woman as she pulls a small holo-watch from her bag and straps it onto her wrist, pale light mixing with her lavender skin, transforming it into a sickly grey.

 Xi’an claps a hand over her mouth to prevent her cackle from ringing through the trees as her plan takes form.

***

TAG LIST (working on it slowly, message if you want)

@velia27 @shrekscoochiehair @tbhitisdbh @sparklingwitches @lazyonasunday @peach-child @leah-halliwell92 @riot-sounds

[celestialsmessy1]

Fog

Prompt: 11/16

From: @gingerrose-hub

Read Part 1: Orange and Part 2: Bonfire here

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

It was a foggy morning the next day, the dying burnt ash of the wars end was seen throughout the campground. Multiple Resistance members and First Order captives lay strewn about the littered moss floor sleeping. Their celebratory party must have gone on longer than she realized. Rose had returned Hux back to his holding container then turned in for the night. Apparently everyone didn't get the memo.

Rose quietly tip-toed past her drunken, lounged about comrades and newly absorbed captives. They looked so peaceful lying there. Through the dense fog she could really only see limbs right before they came into her eyesight. The sun had yet to cut through the trees and swirl of mist. She breathed a sigh of relief once she got to the treeline, ready to embark on her journey.

It was Rose's day to gather supplies from the neighboring village, which she disliked for one reason. She'd rather be in her bed like the others who had flaked on her. When Rose got the assignment a week ago, multiple people offered assistance but now, both Finn & Poe were currently snuggled in bed together, Kaydel was nowhere to be found, Jannah had snuck off with another officer earlier into the party and was yet to be located, and Rey was curled up beside her mysterious large captive. So all that left Rose with was a begrudgingly, grumpy Hux.

"Come along!" She barked adjusting her backpack and checking her pockets to make sure they had enough credits for the camp.

Behind her just barely popping out of the misty, translucent white was her frowning shadow. His dusky, damp red hair was darkened to a dull berry in the absence of light. Tendrils of unruly red peaked from behind his ears, as his chains beeped from his tireless movement.

"I said I would help you later." Rose declared. "Ten minutes is not going to kill you, nor fix your outward appearance, now we've got a bigger job than your strenuous grooming."

The man attempted to fix his hair again causing the fog to swirl around them in a pearl cocoon. "A man's appearance is the most vital thing about him. It shows he cares for himself, he has self-worth, and he knows how to take charge; unlike others I've seen." he hauntly stated giving up his effort.

Rose spat, "If you spent twice as much time primping yourself and less time killing innocent people we wouldn't be in this situation."

The man before her stood to his full height, pushing the boundless cloud even closer together. "I'll have you know your perpetrator for all the terrible things that has occurred is currently lying in a medivac bed where your precious little Jedi awaits for his return."

"Rey?" Rose questioned, stepping even closer. "What does Rey have to do with anything?"

He smirked, looking down his nose at her and keeping quiet. Rose let the silence as well as the fog wrap around them completely. "You said it yourself anyting I have to say can wait."

The shrill yell that popped through the descending water was heard throughout the whole camp.

[beewolfwrites]

And When I am Formulated, Sprawling on a Pin - Chapter Twenty-One: Tread Softly

I’m sure some of you have been looking forward to this chapter. Some truths are starting to come out now :) 

I know I put this on every chapter, but if you’re new here, this is a Chishiya x OC/Reader fic, and i’ve put the link to the full fic on AO3 right here. 

Enjoy! And thanks so much for reading! You have no idea how much it means to me <3

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A shiver swept through me, and everything went still. The flames, the tendrils of smoke, the gunfire, they all blurred into nothing, and all that mattered was this very moment.

‘The other day, you asked me for the reason why you’re here,’ he said, ‘but the real reason had nothing to do with your usefulness to the Beach. It was because you were useful to me.’

He spoke as if he were telling a well-rehearsed story, as if he’d predicted this outcome all along. He wasn’t even looking at me, but simply staring off into the smoke.

‘From our first game together, it was obvious you cared too much about others. I was looking for a third person to complete the plan, and after the Tag game, when I brought you to that pharmacy, I knew you were perfect.’

Every word sent a new wave of disappointment washing over me, eventually settling and making way for numbness, as I realised how much he had played me for a fool. And the most devastating part was that I should have seen it coming. After all, he was the one who’d told me my naivety would be the death of me.  

‘And after that?’

‘Everything I did after that was all to gain your trust.’ When he finally looked at me, his expression was indifferent. Detached. ‘I was going to send you into the royal suite, just like Arisu.’

The wind shifted, and the cards grazed around our feet, settling once again on the rooftop. An orange glow had lit up the hotel windows, and as the fire spread, it sent embers floating up into the night sky. And in the middle of it all, was the million-dollar question.

‘So why am I still alive?’

‘Because somewhere along the way,’ he said, ‘I changed my mind.’

But... why?  

He was speaking in riddles, evading my question like he evaded everything, and quite frankly, I was tired of it. I just wanted out, and to not have to worry about whether he was going to throw me under the bus.

‘What are you saying?’

‘I’m saying I decided against the idea.’ He sighed, his expression darkening almost imperceptibly. ‘I’m not sure exactly when the decision happened. It crept up behind me, without me realizing it.’

I froze.  

‘It sort of creeps up behind you, and by the time you realise it’s there, it’s too late. You’re already trapped.’

Those words… they were mine, back from that time in the jewellery store. He knew how I felt, and he was still trying to get into my head and twist me.

My fists clenched. ‘Stop,’ I hissed. ‘Stop trying to play with me like this.’  

‘Play with you?’ His eyes shone with amusement. ‘Who says I’m playing with you?’

Hot tears spilled down my cheeks, and I squeezed my hands until the fingernails cut sharp crescents into my palms. The flash of pain offered little remedy. The fact that he was toying with me so casually... I didn’t know whether I loved or hated him.

‘You were going to use me for something else then,’ I said. ‘If not for your plan, I would have come pretty handy in a game. A human shield, maybe.’

He laughed, a soft huff of air. ‘The thought did come to mind, but like I said, I decided against it.’

Despite how much I wanted him to leave me alone and let me focus on finishing the game, there was still a part of me that childishly clung onto the hope that he was telling the truth. I despised that part... I wanted to stamp in into the ground until it was buried forever.

‘I can’t....’ I shook my head. ‘I don’t understand.’

For a long moment, he stared at the rooftop in quiet contemplation, and then he spoke. The words were low, slipping out as if they didn’t truly want to be heard, and something inside of me buckled.

‘You’re a train whistle.’

I cried, hard. Even while the wind scattered the cards around our feet, and the gunfire slowly ebbed away, I sobbed into my hands like a child because this was my dream, the vision that I had wanted for myself. Yet here he was, standing before me with his trickster smile and his cruel apathy, trying to steal it from me.

‘I’m sorry.’ I rubbed the tears from my face with the backs of my hands. ‘I just can’t believe you.’

His jaw tightened for a fraction of a second. ‘You can’t believe me, or you don’t?’

‘Both,’ I replied. ‘If you’re telling the truth, you’d have to find a way to prove it. And even then, you’ve lied so much, I just can’t trust anything you say anymore, even if I really want to.’

‘And if I found proof?’

I shook my head. ‘You can’t.’

That was the cold hard reality.

However, there was another reality, one that was surrounding us in swathes of smoke gusting from the windows downstairs. The fire in the hotel was spreading fast, aided by the cold breeze that seeped through the singed holes in the back of my hoodie and sent goosebumps across my skin. Chishiya didn’t seem particularly bothered by the flames. His impassive gaze was focused on the ground, and he seemed preoccupied with something else.

Probably whatever ‘proof’ he’s going to concoct.

‘We should pick these up and go back inside,’ I said, drying my eyes on my sleeve and eyeing the playing cards dotted across the rooftop. ‘We need to find the witch before we all burn alive.’

Chishiya was silent as he helped me collect the cards before the wind carried them off. Once we re-entered the hotel, I could hear his footsteps following behind me, but I didn’t turn. Until the timer on our phones ticked down to zero, we would be allies and nothing more.

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

The halls were empty, and as we made our way to the balcony overlooking the lobby, it became clear why. All of the survivors were gathered here, including Aguni and the militants. Chishiya and I stayed close behind a pillar, remaining hidden on the floor above while watching the scene. The air was stiff as the survivors backed away, crying before the militants who waited with their guns poised.

‘Kill them all,’ Aguni said.

The militants readied themselves, adjusting their grip, all except one who shakily clutched his gun. ‘Jun,’ he said to the man beside him. ‘I can’t... I just can’t do this anymore.’

‘We’ve gone too far to stop,’ Jun replied. ‘There’s no way we can go back to our original lives after killing this many people’

I flinched as Aguni kicked Jun to the ground. ‘You heard me before, right? Anyone who goes against me is a witch.’ His expression turned dark, and he pointed his gun at Jun’s head.  

‘Shoot me then!’ Jun cried.

I bit my lip, my fingers tightening around the balcony as Aguni placed his finger on the trigger.

‘That’s enough!’

That voice… he’s alive.

A familiar face appeared from the sidelines, and the crowd parted to make way for Usagi, the girl in the yellow t-shirt from earlier, and a boy I knew to be named Tatta. Between them, they were supporting a heavily injured Arisu. Blood was smeared across his face and clothes, but I was glad to see that he had made it.

I should go down there, I thought. I should be supporting them.

I made a move towards the staircase, only for Chishiya to wrap a hand around my forearm. Glaring, I tried to yank myself free. He only tightened his grip in response and shook his head.

‘Let’s end this game!’ Tatta said, moving back to let his friend stand upright.

Arisu hobbled over to Aguni. ‘I was tied up by you guys the entire time, even before the murder happened. I can’t be the witch, and if none of you guys are the witch, there’s no need to kill me. Please cooperate with me.’

Aguni casually strolled over, then smashed his fist into Arisu’s nose. There was a crunch as he kicked him square in the chest, and Arisu’s body rolled across the floor. I recoiled, turning my head in the direction of the staircase – anything not to have to look at Arisu’s bloodied features. Chishiya’s fingers squeezed.

Once again, Arisu stood up to face Aguni, who advanced like a predator. Before he could swing a punch, Usagi lunged at him. He tossed her aside like a rag doll.

‘I see now,’ she said, scowling from where she lay sprawled on the floor. ‘The reason you attacked Arisu even though he’s the only one with an alibi, it’s because you’re the witch.’

There was a moment where Aguni hesitated. Something unreadable came over his face, then he spoke, confident. ‘That’s right. I’m the witch.’

The room filled with whispers. Several people took a step back, eyeing the guns of the militants and Aguni’s unwavering certainty. There was something about it that didn’t sit right with me. Aguni had more of a reason to kill Arisu and Usagi than he did Momoka. Not to mention Kuina had been guarding outside his room earlier. He had been in there all evening.

‘Why is he lying?’ I whispered to Chishiya.

His mouth tilted knowingly. ‘I have a feeling we’ll find out soon.’

I bet he already knows who the witch is.

I scanned the room, trying to figure it out for myself, but there were so many elements to this puzzle. Aguni wasn’t the witch, that was obvious. He probably murdered Hatter though, and I had a feeling there was more to it than just rising tensions. It was only when he walked towards the militants’ outstretched guns, daring them to shoot him, that the bigger picture started to come together.

He wants to die…

Hatter’s death, he felt guilty for it, and now he wanted to die. Could that mean they had been genuine friends before things at the Beach got out of control? But that still didn’t make Aguni the witch. If this was a Hearts game, the real witch was someone we’d least expect… a solution that would leave us distraught.

Apparently, I wasn’t alone in thinking this, as Arisu yelled, ‘don’t shoot him! Aguni’s not the witch!’ With Usagi’s help, he lifted his head from the ground. ‘This is a Ten of Hearts game. Killing him won’t help you win.’

He’s right, it’s a Hearts game, which means the witch will be hidden in plain sight.

The rules stated that we had to find the witch and burn her body. They never mentioned anything about killing anybody, and the rules never lied.

It’s a solution that that still involves burning a body…

My eyes drifted to Momoka.

‘He has an ulterior motive,’ Arisu continued, struggling to his feet. ‘The one you killed wasn’t Momoka… it was Hatter. I found out after I saw your eyes. They were the same eyes I had after killing my best friends.’ He stumbled into middle of the room until he stood face to face with Aguni. ‘If you had this many firearms, the militants would have gained control a long time ago. In reality, you and hatter were both helping each other. There was no conflict at all. You were best friends with Hatter in reality, right?’

With one subtle twitch, Aguni’s expression gave him away, and he crashed his fist into Arisu’s head. Several people jumped onto his back, but he shook them off easily, picking up Arisu by the scruff and socking him once again in the jaw. It was hard to believe he was still conscious as he writhed on the carpet.

‘Just who is the witch?’ Usagi cried.

‘I know who it is,’ Arisu whispered. He swayed as he got to his feet. Then he pointed across the room, and everyone turned to the body lying there. ‘It’s possible that the witch is Momoka herself.’

I looked at Chishiya who was calm as ever. ‘You knew this already, right?’

He smirked softly. ‘So did you.’  

For the tiniest second, there was something else in his expression, something I didn’t have a name for, and some of the pain I felt softened in response. But the moment disappeared, as down below, the room erupted into disorder.

‘What a joke!’ Aguni threw Arisu to the floor yet again. This time, the action sparked something as all the remaining survivors threw themselves at Aguni, swarming in an attempt to subdue him. With gritted teeth, he flung them aside one by one. ‘I’m the witch!’ he yelled. ‘It’s me!’

It was no use. They circled him in a mess of limbs, arms grabbing and pulling desperately. If they could take him down, or at least keep him distracted, there was a chance the game could finally be cleared. But then a new voice broke through the madness, and things took a strange, strange turn down the rabbit hole.

‘Listen up everyone!’ The girl in the yellow t-shirt, Momoka’s best friend, stood unflinching in the middle of the room. ‘I’m the dealer for this game!’

A bright red laser struck the ceiling and pierced her body. She dropped, limp against the floor.

A Dealer?

My mouth fell open in surprise, and at the same time, it all fell into place… the reason why certain games had others playing against us… why they seemed to be designed and run by gamemasters rather than computers. Were the people in this world split into dealers and players?

I glanced at Chishiya finding him equally taken aback. His fingers slackened around my arm, and seeing my opportunity, I pulled away, heading towards the stairs.  

The least I can do is help them carry Momoka’s body to the fire.

I didn’t get far. Chishiya’s hand grabbed my hood and dragged me right back. I staggered, trying to get away from him after everything he’d done, only to freeze when he said firmly, ‘not just yet.’

‘Why?’ I hissed. ‘So you can use me as a shield in case they see us?’

He didn’t reply, but the look on his face left no room for discussion. Everything inside me bristled as he kept his hand tight around my wrist. He had no right, no right whatsoever to do this, keeping me here without even telling me why. However, the sting was washed away when I saw Kuina stumble into the room, Ann by her side.

Kuina!

It was such a relief and a joy to see her alive and uninjured, although at the same time I wondered how much she was in on. Did she know that Chishiya had been manipulating me? Was she only friends with me because he had told her to be? She had mentioned once that he was the one who asked her to bring me food that time when we first met. The confusion was tearing me apart; I no longer knew what was real and what was fabricated.

Ann held up the missing knife from the body. ‘The fingerprints on the handle show a reverse grip,’ she said. ‘Momoka killed herself.’

It only meant one thing; she had committed suicide for the sake of starting the game.

Then in that case, they were both ‘dealers’, whatever that means.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about this now. Were they forced to participate, or did they choose to create all this mess themselves? If so, why would they want to do something like this? And why would the girl in the yellow t-shirt help Arisu if she was in on the game?

‘FIVE MINUTES REMAINING.’

The acrid scent of burning fabric filled the air, and everyone looked around, trying to pinpoint the source.

The fire!

I had forgotten all about it, and now there was no time to waste standing around like this.  

‘We only have minutes left!’ Kuina shouted. ‘We need to get her body onto the fire.’

Several people scrambled to lift Momoka’s body and bring this entire massacre to an end. No more deaths. No more blood. No more betrayal. However, this was just wishful thinking, cut short by gunshots bursting through the lobby. A familiar figure stumbled out through the smoke, and I instinctively took a step back.

Niragi’s alive?!

He’d wrapped his torn shirt around his head, and every inch of his upper body was blistered with glistening red burns. In his hand was a submachine gun, and with an animalistic growl, he unleashed a spray of bullets throughout the room.

Bodies flew back and tumbling to the ground, blood splattering the walls and carpet as people stumbled over one another in a frantic struggle to escape. I saw Arisu and Usagi duck, while others crouched low, covering their heads. Bullets ricocheted off the walls as Niragi aimed wildly in every direction, shooting everything that moved.  

And then he looked up.

Even through the charred skin and the tatters of fabric, that familiar glint shone in his eyes when they locked with mine. Teeth bared in unrestrained fury, he raised his gun.

I felt Chishiya’s hands on my shoulders.

It’s just sound and fury…  

He fired.

[whiskeyworen]

Speluncaphobia...?

So my friends turned me on to this 4-player game called Deep Rock Galactic and... I’m enjoying it. It’s MUCH better with friends, of course, but it’s a hilarious game. You’re a dwarf miner in space, mining a shattered rock of a world for various ores, as well as ingredients for new kinds of booze. And you work for, as usual, a shit-tier company that basically throws you to the horrible digging monstrosities and is like “Well, if you survive the next five minutes, I’ll be pleased. You might even earn a round at the bar later. You’re paying of course.” Four classes: Gunner, Scout, Engineer, and Digger. Each one specializes in a different way. Gunner is basically the Heavy. Scout has an assault rifle, double barrel shotty, a grappling hook, and a flare gun. Engie has a combat shotty, a grenade launcher, a turret to deploy, and a platform gun. Digger has... I forget. But the special is twin drill arms that can mow through the walls like wet cardboard. And a flamethrower. So we all took a role, since the others had played before, and I got Engie. Not bad. I don’t mind it. The zones of the world, after they’re unlocked, rotate something like every hour or half hour, so you’ve always got a good variety of zones, and not just ‘We’re getting Nuketown again.’ repetitiveness. The actual maps seem to be fractal and procedurally generated for the most part? I can’t really confirm it, but it SEEMS like the level self-generates based on an algorithm, and then just expands upon it if you keep going by adding chambers and random crap. No matter what, when you go into the deeps of the planet, you’re gonna be running into creepy crawly, TOOTHY things. You’re expected to shoot them. Some of them are fast. Others spit acid. Others exhale toxin or ice, or fire. Some grab you from the air and carry you off Smoker L4D style. And once in a while there’s a big, BIG bastard that shows up to just ruin the day. He’s killable, but it takes so much time and he hits so hard... LoL. I’ve seen beautiful things so far. Caves of reflective ice, with frozen lakes you skid on. Red crystal caves with bismuth outgrowths everywhere. A grotto in the middle of the planet, filled with plants and sticky stuff, and a delightful non-hostile monster called a Silicate Harvester which looks like the Reefback Leviathan a bit, only much smaller, that I rode on for ten minutes while it scoured the area for tasty dirt. I’ve seen horrors. Parts of mines filled with purple tendrils and pulsating orange ‘organs’. Giant rolly-poly beetles that are fast as hell and annoying to damage. The Aforementioned Big Ass Bastard bug. And the absolute SWARMS of toothy bitey, Ripper-crossed-with-Termagaunt bugs called the Swarm. And worst of all... the Egg-hunting mission. You go down into a mine, and have to find those horrible, tendril-and-organ corrupted places. Look for a spot with a pulsing glow...and mine into it. Inside is a green, veiny ovoid. It’s a frickin’ egg the size of a watermelon. And you have to take between 5 and 10 back. When you pick up an egg... The PLANET seems to rebel. Normally when the Swarm wakes up or is agitated, you can hear them roar in the distance. The bigger the bug, the bigger the roar. All of it sounding like classic Ghidorah. But when you grab an egg... the world around you shudders violently, the air itself warps with the volume and violence of the roar. It’s like whatever you pulled the egg from is a VERY large creature spread through the crust of the planet, and it is NOT happy at all. And when it’s not happy... the SWARM is not happy. They come in droves. There’s an old saying from the Aliens franchise, which also transfers over to WH40k, and now to Deep Rock Galactic; “If you can hear the shifting, hissing, clicking of mandibles and claws and chitin in the distance, and you still haven’t seen what’s causing it... there’s more bugs coming than you have ammo to deal with them.” Never. Ever. Grab more than one egg at once. Because the Swarms stack. I think that’s enough gushing for now. Go find that game and play it with friends. Play it with the dumbasses who make snarky comments. Be silly. Do dumb shit. That’s the beauty of this game; it’s not super serious unless you make it. I literally used my Engie’s platform gun to make temporary walls to keep the Swarm’s biggest beasts at bay while my Digger friend dug our way as fast as he could to the escape pod. Then I threw a L.U.R.E. mine out, which projected a floss-dancing Dwarf for the bugs to focus on, while we shut the pod door and got away. Fantastic game.

[zukosdumbbitch]

fire isn’t just destruction

work on ao3

pairing: zuko/gn reader

warnings: none

wordcount: 1162

request (from ao3): If youre looking for ideas, a firebender reader who hates being a firebender (maybe they disguised themself as a non-bender to join the gaang?) and learns to accept their bending with zuko's help.

a/n: i plan on doing a part 2 for this <3

part 2

-

It was getting dark and you were the last one still sitting by the campfire. It was now long extinguished, thanks to Zuko having snuffed it out with a flick of his wrist. You watched the ash flake away in the soft breeze, some embers still glowing in the old wood.

You wished you could just . . . be. You were a firebender, too; however, your own state wasn’t a big fan of you. You had joined an underground group of resistors that worked within the Fire Nation in your early teens. Growing up poor was just enough to radicalize you against the Fire Nation’s imperialism, and you were sure your parents hadn’t even noticed your sudden absence as you left during the day to aid the group. At that point, you were mostly petitioning for the release of unlawfully arrested citizens and giving out food and medical treatment to the homeless. But Ozai did not tolerate any form of resistance, not even this peaceful type. Your group was very clever in their ways.

Shit hit the fan when some members that had managed their way into government were exposed. Those that had gotten such positions would use their power to interrupt military movement, but they had to be extremely careful. Turns out, they weren’t careful enough.

Everyone with so much as suspected affiliation had to flee. They had a bounty on their heads. The Fire Nation liked making examples of “treasonous” people. And you were identified as one of them.

And, long story short, now you were here, at the formerly Crowned Prince’s beach house with Aang, Fire Nation public enemy number one. You never once mentioned your nationality to the Gaang, however; you were afraid they’d think you were a spy. And you could hardly firebend, anyway. You weren’t trained in firebending. You stared at the burnt wood of the campfire mournfully, not being able to summon anything controlled; nothing more than a flicker at the snap of your fingers was safe enough for you to handle.

Your middle finger clicked against the edge of your palm and you watched the small orange light appear just above your thumb. You sighed, releasing the clench in your hand, making the flame disappear. You snapped your fingers again to summon a new flame, maybe a bigger one, and a slightly larger flame crackled above your hand.

“I didn’t know you could firebend.” The raspy voice ripped you from your thoughts, your heart jumped clear out of your chest as you whipped around towards its source. You felt as though you’d jumped six feet into the air, your small flame extinguishing in a flash.

“Fuck, Zuko, you scared me.” You scorned him; a meek, apologetic smile adorning his face.

“Sorry,” He mumbled, hand coming to the back of his neck.

You sighed. You trusted Zuko. You knew how Fire Nation brainwashing worked - you grew up with it. You could only imagine how far deep they had a royal sunk into their propaganda. And Zuko managed to overcome it. You decided it was just in his nature to be good, what with him going completely out of his way to help the Gaang. He seemed as though he had a good heart, but was never once allowed to express and nurture it.

“Don’t tell anybody. No one knows.” You grumbled. Your hands came to cover your face.

“Really? How’s that?” Zuko’s head tilted to the side in curiosity.

“Never came up,” You looked at him, palms away from your face and facing up as you gave a small shrug.

He simply looked at you.

“I can barely firebend, okay. And I didn’t want them to think I was a spy or something. They probably even think I’m Earth Nation. How am I supposed to tell them that hey, actually I’m from the presently most destructive nation in the world and also I’m a glorified arsonist?” You huffed, tendrils of smoke curling from your nostrils. Zuko looked a bit taken aback. Before he could speak, you mumbled, “I don’t want them to get mad at me.” You looked down at your feet.

Zuko sat next to you. “I don’t think they’ll be mad at you.” He said softly.

You were distressed. A twelve year old is responsible for saving the world from Ozai? The leader of your own country? Ridiculous. Your face came back into your hands. “Kids shouldn’t be fighting wars. Sometimes I feel ashamed of my own element.”

A warm hand came to your shoulder. “Fire isn’t just destruction, you know. We need it for light, warmth, to cook food. Things weren’t always like this.” Zuko soothed.

You took a deep breath, leaning into his touch. You nodded in agreement. Zuko's arm came around your shoulders and you rested your head against his neck.

“We probably shouldn’t be the ones responsible for fixing the world, but that’s what it’s come to. Now all we can do is fight and restore balance. You are more than where you’ve come from, take it from me.” You felt his voice rumble through his throat.

“I wish I could've come with and saw the dragons,” You pouted.

"I can always teach you firebending. I'm sure Aang will be thrilled to have someone else to train with." Zuko suggested, hand still rubbing your bicep comfortingly.

You smiled in spite of yourself. "Are you really that miserable of a sparring partner?"

"No - !" Zuko started in an offended tone before pausing to choose his next words in a less heated state. "He does get sick of me ordering him and only him around. A classmate would be good for him."

You shook your head in amusement, remembering Aang's pouts and how he complained that no one else had homework when Sokka and Zuko left to The Boiling Rock. A twelve year old is still a twelve year old, even if he's the avatar. A grimmer thought crossed your mind, however, as you thought about the Gaang witnessing your power. “I don’t know how to tell them, though. I’m really afraid they might get upset.” You knew in your heart that they wouldn’t, but your anxiety never ceases its barking.

Zuko nuzzled your hair. "They won't get upset, not after everything you've done for them." He replied softly.

You could feel his breath fan across your scalp, giving you tingles. You could melt into him just then, the two of you alone out in the clear night with his arm around you.

You hummed in agreement and sighed. "We should get to bed. I'll stick around for your training session with Aang tomorrow." You reluctantly pulled yourself from Zuko's grip and began to stand up.

Zuko grinned up at you from where he was still seated. "You're gonna tell them tomorrow?"

"I'll think about it. Right now I just plan on watching you."

Zuko blushed, unsure of how to respond. His stammering thoughts were interrupted by you tugging on his arm.

"C'mon. Bedtime."

[shedreamsofstars]

our fingers dancing when they meet

five times their hands didn’t touch and one time they did

i.

Kyo’s hand skated along the top of the metal railing as he walked down the school steps. It was late, and despite the balmy weather, the metal was stone cold to the touch. He glanced around him absently, more out of habit than actually looking for anyone, but his heart skipped a beat as he spotted a familiar figure standing below.

Tohru stood with one hand against the railing, her long hair floating breezily in the wind. Her ribbons flitted back and forth as she dug through her bag, searching for something he had no hope of making out from his distance.

She hadn’t noticed him yet.

That wasn’t too much of a surprise to him, especially when he considered how she spent most of her days happily oblivious to her surroundings. It was a wonder she had made it through another day unharmed.

His eyes were drawn to her fingers, clinging to the same railing his own hand rested against, and his body stalled at the only natural thought in his mind.

If he kept his hand on the rail as he approached, it would eventually end up alongside hers.

Kyo could almost imagine the warmth of her fingers as they touched his, could almost see her panic as she realised what had happened, could almost feel her pull back with a hundred apologies on her lips.

He considered the idea for a moment.

It would be so easy to play it off as an accident, his hand sliding into hers in a purely distracted state, his fingers curling against hers in involuntary attempt to fight off the cold.

He blinked hard.

He took a deep breath.

He shoved both hands into the pockets of his trousers and carried on walking.

Casually jumping the last few steps, Kyo landed beside Tohru, who true to form, startled at his sudden appearance. “Hey,” he said gently, attempting to offset his brusque entrance.

“Kyo-kun,” she called back happily as she straightened up, her hands fluttering behind her back as she gave up on whatever she was searching for. “Are you ready to go home now?”

Kyo frowned, something strange and warm blooming in his chest. “You were … waiting for me?”

“Of course. Yuki already went on ahead, but I didn’t want you to be alone.”

Tohru’s eyes were bright and brown and so plain to read as she smiled up at him. Kyo’s fingers twitched in his pocket. He twisted them into a fist as something akin to regret simmered at the base of his throat.

“Thanks,” he said, doing his best to ignore it. “You didn’t have to stay y’know.”

Tohru shook her head lightly. “You’re so silly. Of course I did,” she said, her smile widening ever so slightly.

Kyo was quiet a moment, transfixed. Was there anything that smile couldn’t fix, he wondered.

“Come on, let’s go,” he said, deliberately knocking against her shoulder as he passed, hands still firmly placed in his pockets. He took a few steps before slowing his pace, waiting for her to catch up to him with that same bright smile on her face.

 ii.

“Having bigger hands doesn’t mean you’re stronger,” Yuki grumbled half-heartedly, his face hidden behind a textbook.

“It does too,” Kyo said stubbornly, his hand slamming down onto the table between the two of them. The teacups clattered at the impact as the red-headed boy turned his attention to the only other person in the room. “Right, Tohru?”

Tohru sat on the edge of the table with her homework spread out before her, her pencil stuck mid-air as both boy’s attention fell to her. Her gaze bounced between the two of them, her nerves frazzling by the second at the untamed energy simmering in the air.

Yuki was the first to speak.

He let out a reserved sigh, his mop of grey hair and piercing eyes appearing in full as he lowered the book. “Miss Honda, you don’t have to answer his ridiculous question.”

“It’s not ridiculous,” Kyo countered defensively. “My hands are obviously bigger than Tohru’s and I’m clearly stronger than her too. So why don’t you just hold up your hand you damned rat, so I can prove I’m stronger than you too!”

Yuki raised his brows warily, his expression somewhere between serene and disinterested.

“It doesn’t make any difference if my, or even Miss Honda’s, hands are bigger or smaller than yours. We’re both stronger than you where it counts.”

Kyo leaned into the table, flexing his arm muscles as he glared at Yuki. “Oh yeah, and where’s that you stupid rat?”

As much as Tohru would have loved to hear Yuki’s reasoning, Kyo’s response or even just attempt to cool down the argument that was brewing in the air, her mind found itself fixated on one thing and one thing only.

My hands are bigger than Tohru’s

Her brows crinkled into a small frown as she stared at Kyo’s hand spread against the dark grain of the wood table. How could he possibly know that?

From what she remembered, the two of them had pretty similarly sized hands. Sure he had grown taller since they’d first met, but she hadn’t paid any particular attention to his hands.

Perhaps she ought to have, she wondered.

Tohru wanted to test his words against the truth, and for a brief moment the thought of asking him flickered in the back of her mind.

The image of him pressing his palm flat against hers seemed so real that she found herself holding her breath in anticipation. She wondered how his orange eyes would look when they bounced along the tips of their fingers to measure the distance between them.

Curious?

Affectionate?

Tender?

Her head tipped involuntarily to the side, shaking her free of her reverie.

“Huh … what … happened?” she said, stumbling over the words as she finally focused enough to see Kyo and Yuki looking at her with matching looks of concern.

It took her a disoriented moment to realise it was because someone had knocked her gently. It took another for her to realise it was Kyo and that those same orange eyes she had been imagining were now burning right beside her.

“Are you okay Miss Honda?”

She heard Yuki, but his words didn’t really register through the tendrils of her muddled thoughts. All she knew was a warm burnt umber and the feel of fingertips pressed against her own.

Kyo leaned in towards her with a concerned frown. “You were gawking at the table for ages,” he put bluntly, diving for the ground with a growl as Yuki sent a book flying at his face.

“What he means Miss Honda, is that you got lost in your head there for a moment. You must have had some pretty interesting thoughts.”

Tohru blushed wildly, trying to forget the images she’d conjured up in her mind. But one look at Kyo as he sat up with that flame eyed gaze of his had them flickering on the fringes of her vision.

She rushed to her feet, feeling completely hot and bothered. “I’m fine,” she squeaked, attempting to look anywhere but at the two boys who she knew were watching her with worried gazes.

“I …” she started, searching for any excuse to leave. “It’s so late! I need to get started on dinner.” And with that, Tohru made a beeline for the empty kitchen.

It would be a good long while before the rosy hue on her cheeks disappeared, and a good while longer until she could remember her daydream without blushing all over again.

 iii.

Kyo stood in the doorway with a glass of water in his hand, craning into the room with an air of curiosity. He had only meant to pass through on his way to grab a drink, but the sight of Tohru doing – whatever the heck that was – gave him pause.

“What are you doing?”

Tohru glanced up at him, the look of concentration on her face melting into a welcoming smile. “Oh, this?” she said, gesturing to the small pink bottle on the table. “I still had some of mum’s nail polish and thought it would be fun to put it on.”

Kyo stepped fully into the room, eyeing up the bottle on the table with open mistrust. “Is that stuff safe?” he asked, the smell of chemicals strong in the air. His hands involuntarily tightened on his glass.

“Of course, silly. And it’s really pretty too, look,” Tohru said as she held up her left hand, wiggling her fingers playfully.

Kyo idly glanced at the pale pink that decorated her fingers. Even he had to admit that it did look pretty.

“Okay, if you say so,” he said gently, turning to leave.

“Oh, actually Kyo-kun,” she called after him, knocking her knee against the table in her hurry. Kyo glanced back at her over his shoulder. “Are you busy right now?”

He swallowed the urge to say whatever would get him out of the situation, a habit he’d been trying to work on kicking. “Not really,” he said, turning back around to face her.

“If it’s not too much bother, could you paint my other hand for me?” she asked, her eyes twinkling with a guarded hope. “I’m not that good at applying it with my left hand.”

“Oh,” Kyo said, a little stunned at her request. Painting Tohru’s nails seemed like it required a steady hand, and he wasn’t exactly known for being … delicate. Still, before he knew what he was doing Kyo was shuffling towards the table.

He placed his cup of water down, biting back a smile as Tohru expertly slid a coaster under it before it could touch the table. He picked up the bottle, twisting the lid off and pulling out the brush.

“Thank you,” Tohru said brightly, placing her right hand on the table and spreading her fingers across its wooden surface.

“Don’t thank me just yet,” he warned warily, not fully trusting himself to be able to do a good job. As carefully as he could, he lifted the brush and applied the polish to her bare nails, his hands moving slow and cautious.

Weirdly enough, it really did feel like painting. Kyo wasn’t much for art - though he did like to make things with his hands - but he found that the repetitive motions were strangely soothing as he worked methodically along each nail.

As great care as he took to try and keep the polish from her skin, he took even greater care to keep himself from touching her – a thing every sane part of him screamed to do.

Or, every insane part rather.

It was hard to do with their hands in such close proximity, but Kyo managed it well enough despite his desire to do otherwise. A small while later, he found himself placing the capped bottle back down on the table with a glassy thunk.

He had rushed a little towards the end, nerves starting to get the better of him, but as Tohru lifted her hand to blow against the wet polish she seemed happy enough with the outcome.

“Thank you,” she said softly, examining the plain pink on her nails like it was some famous masterpiece or something of the like. He wanted to grab a hold of that hand, to feel her soft skin against his own calloused palm, all under the guise of examining his work.

“You’re welcome,” he said, standing up quickly and heading for the door before he could change his mind. “See ya.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Tohru open her mouth as if to say something, but Kyo kept walking. He was already in the corridor before she could even have a chance to speak and he didn’t stop until he reached his own room.

He pushed thoughts of Tohru from his mind as he dropped onto his futon. It would lead to nothing after all, so he resolved to do nothing about it.

His glass of water stood forgotten on the table beside that bottle of pink polish.

 iv.

Tohru’s elbows pressed almost painfully into the counter as she leaned against it, but she barely even noticed. Her gaze was fixed on the window, or more specifically, at the bright sun that she could see rising just beyond it.

The near silent bubble of the rice cooker lulled her into a state of calm in the dusky dawn light, spreading through the kitchen like a warm mist. Her thoughts were peacefully empty as she breathed in deeply.

She spent several minutes that way, gazing out at the slowly waking world illuminated in a beautiful golden glow that would die down as the sun rose fully. She didn’t look away until the sound of soft footsteps shuffling down the stairs drew her gaze.

A ready smile sprang to her lips as she spotted a shock of orange through the doorway. “Good morning, Kyo-kun,” she beamed.

The boy padded into the kitchen, glancing blearily in her direction. “Hey, you,” he said, voice still deep from slumber. The timbre rumbled through her and Tohru found herself suddenly standing up straighter.

Kyo rubbed at his eyes, attempting to chase away the last clutches of sleep. “Uh, Tohru,” he said, glancing around him as if searching for something. “You haven’t seen my phone anywhere, have you? I thought I left it in here last night.”

Tohru squinted in thought, knowing she’d seen it somewhere. “Oh. It’s right …” she said, swivelling around and biting her lip as she reached beside the fruit bowl. “Here,” she finished, holding it up proudly in the palm of her hand.

“Thanks,” Kyo murmured. His eyes lingered on it sitting in her hand, but he made no move to take it off of her. Tohru held it out anyway, wondering what was stopping him before realising that he was watching her a little more closely than normal.

Her heart thudded in her throat as she saw that indecipherable look in his eyes, swallowing nervously as she forced herself to look away. She turned her attention back to the window, realising with a start that the dawn’s golden glow had faded without her realising.

The sky was fully clear and a beautiful violet blue, but instead of seeing the beauty in front of her eyes, all she could do was anticipate the brush of Kyo’s fingertips against her skin, wait for the gentle sparks of his touch to flit across her palm.

But the feeling never came.

She felt the weight disappear from her hand, but when she turned to Kyo she found that he was no longer beside her. He was across the kitchen, standing beside an open fridge. He held a carton of milk in one hand and his phone in the other as he frowned at the boxes of leftovers.

Tohru startled as the rice cooker dinged loudly behind her. “I’m making rice and salmon for breakfast,” she announced hurriedly as Kyo glanced at her over his shoulder. As if the sound wouldn’t have already alerted him. “It’s almost ready,” she added quietly, trying her best to keep her voice casual.

“Okay,” he said, placing the box of leftover fish on the counter for her before turning to leave, the carton of milk still clutched in his hands. “I’ll go wake the others up.”

Tohru sighed at his retreating form as he left the kitchen, her heart heavy with an emotion she couldn’t quite explain. It wasn’t regret, at least not entirely, although she was sure it definitely had something to do with the way she felt.

She tried to ignore it, but even as she distractedly plated the food, she couldn’t stop herself from wondering what had made Kyo be so careful around her. So careful that he refused to touch her in the slightest.

It wasn’t the curse; she knew that much at least.

But then, what was it about her that repulsed him so much? She bit the inside of her cheek as she took the plates to the table, the thought haunting her for the rest of the day.

 v.

Kyo entered Tohru’s room cautiously.

He had permission to be there, obviously – he wouldn’t have dared walk in otherwise – but it still felt weird to be there when she wasn’t. He glanced around to take in the pristine room, tidy and organised just as he knew it would be.

He spotted her zodiac figurines sitting on a shelf across her bed, his lips quirking at the final cat she’d crafted herself to make sure he didn’t feel left out. He walked over to it, marking the small imperfections in her sculpting and appreciating it even more for it.

Turning back around, he reminded himself that he was here for an actual reason. Tohru, Yuki, Momiji and himself had been halfway to the mall when she’d realised she’d forgotten her purse at home.

She’d been working most of the week, and since Hana and Uotani were already waiting for her, he’d offered to come back instead of making her waste more of her time. It had been easy to play it off as needing some time away from Momiji and his antics, but Yuki had given Kyo a look he hadn’t liked in the slightest.

His grey eyes were so light and piercing that they almost seemed to pull some unknown truth to the forefront of his mind. He hadn’t been sure what the boy had been searching for, but it definitely made him uncomfortable.

Kyo was glad to be away from him.

Now, where had Tohru said her purse was again? The red headed boy frowned as he tried to remember something that wasn’t the quiet joy on her face when he said he’d go back for her.

In all honesty, his brain had been a little preoccupied with shutting down his own unwanted thoughts of her that he’d barely had any energy left to listen to the rest of her request. He remembered her saying something about the bed, so decided to start there.

He scanned the perfectly smoothed duvet for any signs of her brown purse, but nothing. He did notice a slight dip on the far pillow though and followed it. He found the object of his search on the floor beside it, clearly having slipped off at some point, and lifted it off the ground.

He ran his fingers over the worn leather, wondering how many times Tohru had done the exact same thing. It was a little weird he knew that but, holding something so precious to her, he could almost pretend he was holding her.

He was much too spinelessness to do that of course, the past few weeks of avoiding her as much as he could had been enough to show him that. He’d spent many nights awake during the small hours of the night, staring at the ceiling and wondering if she had noticed his reluctance around her.

She must have he’d deduced eventually – he wasn’t exactly known for his subtlety after all.

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to touch her and hold her hand. In fact, he wanted it so much that the thought scared him more than just a little bit. He knew where his life was headed, a captive future laid out for him since birth, and that alone should have stopped his thoughts of her dead in their tracks.

But they only rebelled harder, persistent in their desire to know her.

He released a soft exhalation filled with unbridled wanting as he held her purse a little tighter. This at least he could hold without worry or false expectations. It wasn’t her, but it was the closest he felt he could get.

At least for now.

He kept a gentle grip on the purse the whole way down the steps that led away from Shigure’s house until he reached the mall where the others were waiting for him. He tossed it gently in Tohru’s direction, and though she stumbled and flailed, she managed to catch it with words of gratitude falling from her lips.

Kyo waved them away as he turned to the others, regretting his decision instantly as he caught sight of Yuki, that same look in his gaze that he had thought he’d evaded earlier. “Stop it,” the other boy said plainly. “Your cowardice will hurt her more than anything else ever could.”

The others had already begun to move on, leaving the two of them alone.

“What are you talking about?” Kyo grumbled, faking irritation to hide the fact that he understood Yuki perfectly. And that he was right.

“You’re going to have to decide what you want at some point. Make the right choice for once,” Yuki said cryptically, brushing past Kyo without waiting for a response.

Anger simmered within Kyo, but not for Yuki or even the truths he spoke. No, his anger was wholly for himself and himself alone. He knew he was hurting Tohru, he’d seen as much in her eyes every time he took the pains to avoid her outstretched hands, and yet he kept doing it anyway.

How much longer would he keep playing at this and pretending that he didn’t want to touch her every time she was near? Kyo turned to follow after the others, reluctant to face that question, let alone all the complications that would follow.

He still felt the ghostly feel of her purse on his palm, reminding him that he’d have to decide soon enough. But he already knew what his answer would be.

 vi.

It was a rare movie night when Tohru found herself sat on the floor sandwiched between Yuki and Kyo. Momiji lay sprawled out on the floor in front of them, his wide eyes glued to the television screen.

They’d ended up choosing one of the several movies the younger Sohma had brought along with him, the only stipulation being that it wasn’t scary. Nobody wanted a repeat of the haunted house incident, and as it stood, Tohru wasn’t sure her head would ever fully recover from that day.

Despite her initial excitement at spending the evening relaxing with her friends, Tohru found that she had no idea what was happening in the movie. From the moment Yuki had pressed play, or perhaps even before, her mind had been occupied by another thing entirely – namely, Kyo.

He sat right beside her, shoulder almost brushing against hers with one leg pulled up so he could lean back a little. He was glaring at the screen in annoyance, from being forced to watch the movie or because he was confused by it, Tohru couldn’t be sure.

What she was sure of was the fact that his hand was resting on the ground, just inches away from her own. If she moved hers just so she could tangle their fingers.

Even though she knew he probably wouldn’t want her to, Tohru couldn’t help but want to feel that he was there. If he didn’t react, then at least she could just pretend that she was trying to get comfortable and hadn’t noticed – although she wasn’t sure she’d actually be able to convince anyone.

With a soft breath and a burst of courage she wasn’t aware she had she slid her hand a little closer to his.

Even though she wasn’t looking at him, she felt more than saw his eyes drift towards her as he noticed the slight movement. She dared a quick side glance only to find that he was frowning at the ground where her hand rested.

She curled her fingers inwards instinctively, wondering if she should pull back when Kyo’s own movement caught her attention.

His hand lifted into the air and covered his mouth in a disinterested yawn and Tohru felt cold disappointment wash over her as she realised her attempts had been futile. The emotion must have unintentionally crossed her face because Kyo’s lips twitched in amusement.

It took her a moment to realise that she was being weird and staring at him and she quickly dragged her gaze down to her hand instead, ready to pull it onto her lap and forget the last few minutes.

But before she could, Kyo’s hand came down on top of hers, warm and firm. She bit back the nervous gasp that threated to spill from her lips as his fingers dragged across her knuckles and came to rest on the ground beside hers.

Her murmured a soft apology.

Tohru only had to take a single look at him to know that the yawn was a ruse. The glint in his eye proved his actions were deliberate. She let a small smile work its way onto her lips as she turned back to the movie that filtered around her in waves of incoherent sounds and flashes.

He was closer to her now, so close that even if she wasn’t looking, she could stretch out her curled fingers and be able to feel his touch again. The fact that he had reached for her first and closed the distance between them once already made her bold and she did just that.

Slowly, so slowly that she wondered if she was actually even moving, Tohru reached out for Kyo until the tips of her fingers brushed against his. Her skin sparked to life at every point she met his skin and she couldn’t help but wonder that if the barest touch did this to her, what would it be like if he touched her fully.

Her heart flickered with warmth as Kyo tapped her fingers with his own. It became harder and harder to pretend that she was trying to watch the movie and she hoped that neither Yuki nor Momiji noticed. She really should have been more concerned that either of the two would notice her fingers tangled with Kyo’s but Tohru couldn’t bring herself to care.

Every living part of her was focused solely on Kyo and the way his fingers danced with her own, creating soothing words in a silent language that she couldn’t yet translate beyond a peaceful stillness.

If he would let her, someday she would do everything in her power to learn it, and him along with it. But for now, she was content with their furtive dance and their secretive smiles so long as it meant he was near.

- x - 

started writing this back in august. several mental breakdowns later, bon appetite. title from ‘this side of paradise’ by coyote theory

[writing-the-end]

LoL Chapter 50- To the East

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

A dragon spirit, guardians and attendants to the gods, is in peril. When a few hermits and the wanderers go to face the trouble, they’re not the only ones fighting against dark magic.

_______________________________________________

Not all of the hermits could afford to leave Doc behind, nor could they all make the trip in time. Avon’s insistent they leave now. She was about ready to transform into her dragon form and carry the wanderers to the eastern fjords. It was Ren that was able to calm her down just enough to think. In the end, they decided less is more. Avon doesn’t know what has her on edge, but she knows it’s not good. 

“My mentor, Flaryn, I… I have a really bad feeling.” Avon paces the floor. 

“Your mentor, like the dragon?” Mumbo squeaks, already feeling faint as he remembers facing Avon in the duel. What could possibly be causing a massive dragon trouble? 

As soon as Cub opens a portal, the wanderers are the first through. Following them is Iskall, already brandishing a spear of iskallium. Ren volunteers as well, offering up his dynamic, versatile magic. Three hermits, plus the three wanderers, set off through the portal, from the dark wooden bookstore to the verdant evergreen forests around the eastern fjords. Arriving beneath the pine canopy, someone was already waiting for them. 

“I got your message,” The long, ebony black haired sorceress reaches out, taking hold of Red’s hands and holding him close. Prolonged, pointy ears rise from the black curls like rocks from the sea, and deep purple eyes gaze upon the small group. “What’s going on?” 

“I don’t know, Selene.” Avon growls, brushing past everyone present. Her eyes wander across the tall mountains, covered in snow as they slope to the waters below. “Things just feel...disturbed. Out of balance, like a rockfall about to collapse.” 

“You called your master Flaryn, correct?” Cub questions, boots crunching heavy in the snow. Ren realizes he’s wearing sandals, and uses his imagination magic to conjure up a pair of boots. “You don’t mean to tell us that the dragon you learned your magic from is a dragon spirit? Flaryn, dragon of the east, guardian of balance, master of flame?” 

“Why does a dragon need that many surnames?” Iskall huffs. Cub’s eyes only widen when Avon gives a curt nod. Cub has gotten used to his fellow hermits being from incredible or strange backgrounds, but to master a magic from the very spirits that aid the gods? 

“Well, go big or go home, I guess.” Cub chuckles. “So...if something really is wrong, why don’t we go to Flaryn’s roost and check for ourselves?” 

“Because Flaryn lives at the top of that mountain,” Selene, now carrying Red through the snow as tall as the kipling, interjects. “And that isn’t just a mountain. That’s a fucking active volcano.” 

As if to prove her point, a low growl escapes the peak of the mountain, and smoke roils free like the maws of a dragon. And within the smoke, a massive shadow, wings outstretched, appears. Bigger than Avon’s dragon form, so big that even this far away the hermits can tell it’s great size. This was a dragon above dragons, a beast that could bend nature to it’s whim. 

And it was under attack. The dragon banks hard within the smoke, dancing with embers and tendrils of flames as lava erupts from the mountain peak. From the bottom of the mountain, the hermits can’t tell who is attacking, though they can make an educated guess on who would possibly have that much hubris to take on a messenger of the gods. 

If it wasn’t Dolios, then surely it was one of his council members. A roar shakes the ground at their feet, sending snow tumbling from trees. Selene uses her magic to create a shield, brushing aside the snow like it was little more than a gnat. Shield magic must be her power. Avon takes point, guiding the team up the mountain to the peak. Where she learned to control her magic.  A battle continues at the caldera, fire blazing from the mouth of Flaryn and strikes of magic shooting from the ground. 

A wayward breath of fire misses the combatant, orange flame burning down the mountain. Barreling for the team. Avon opens her wings to block the flame, but is little more than raising a hand to stop an avalanche. Iskall squeezes his eyes closed and waits to be burnt to a crisp by the superhot flame. 

It never comes. He waits a second longer, still braced and prepared for death. Still nothing. Iskall dares to open his eye, about to ask where his untimely death has gone. He finds it, instead, under the control of Selene. She’s ensnared the fire, dancing with the stream like it was little more than a ribbon of silk. When she’s gained full control of the flame, she turns it back up the mountain, aimed directly at the distance figure they’re approaching. 

Iskall blinks, stunned and confused. “I thought you were a shield wizard. Are you a multi-mage as well?” 

Avon doesn’t stop, leaving the others to follow. “I’m not a multi-mage, but I can do multiple forms of magic.” 

“How so?” That’s impossible. Most wizards only have one form of magic, as unique as their personalities. Multi-mages were an exception, as if the gods themselves couldn’t decide what magic the wizard would excel with. 

“Ever heard of a learned mage?” Red questions, falling into the snow and clambering through. It’s as high as his chest. When all three hermits shake their heads, he continues. “Learned wizards are born without magic, but with enough time and dedicated study are able to gain the understanding of powers and use it themselves.” 

“I had no innate magic. But I didn’t let that stop me. I’ve since learned more than twenty varieties of magic, and can perform them as well as wizards born with it.” Selene looks over her shoulder, a coy grin appearing on her face when she sees the stunned expression on the hermits’.  

Ren opens his mouth to ask a question, but the words that rise from his throat are lost to the wind, the thunder of the dragon above. It wasn’t an angered roar, not like those before, when Flaryn fought the intruder. Rather, it was more of a cry, higher pitched, sharper. Grating against their ears. Alarmed, Avon takes off, leaving the rest behind to join her mentor in the sky. Her trident is already in hand, flame erupting in a blossom of purple.

The distant figure turns, curly brown hair falling across his blue capelet, a scowl creasing the charismatic expression. “And i thought you’d be too busy handling your criminal friend to get in my way.” Dolios sneers. He attempts to blast Avon out of the sky, but the draconic mage dodges in the nick of time. “You flying lizards have always been such a pain, but imagine the honor of being the person to slay a dragon spirit.” 

“You’ll have to go through us first.” Avon hisses, then attacks. Dolios casts his wisping magic circle, corrupted by his dark magic. Just as unstable as the man that controls it. A heavy wind picks up, snapping the tops off trees and tossing Avon aside like she was little more than a leaf. With her out of the way, Dolios turns back to Flaryn. Another circle, this time summoning a swarm of wasps. The mottled monstrosities swarm the dragon, stinging and paralyzing the spirit. Forcing Flayrn to land as wings become overwhelmingly heavy. 

Iskall lets out a war cry, and plows through the deep snow, to the peak of the mountain. He shoves his shoulder, all his weight into Dolios. The two both go sprawling against the ground. Iskall can feel the heat of the erupting volcano, burning at his cheeks in waves of intense heat. 

“I think it’s time for you to meet your doom, you mega bastard.” Iskall growls, wrestling the magistrate. Dolios isn’t very strong, it turns out, all his attention focused on keeping Iskall from throwing him into the lake of lava. 

“Do you know any other adjectives except ‘mega’ and ‘doom’, or are you just too dense to learn a thesaurus?” Dolios hums. His words spark an angry fire in Iskall, frenzying him. 

Exactly how Dolios wanted it. With a swift repertoire of hand movements, Dolios casts his dark magic, and grabs hold of Iskall’s arm. Fingernails puncture under Iskall’s pale, exposed skin. Like venom from a wyrmbite, poison seeps under his skin, sending Iskall writhing backwards in pain. 

Red catches Iskall before he falls all the way down the volcano, while Selene casts not one, or two, but three different spells at once. Despite the uncertain predicament Dolios finds himself in, he’s more interested in the magic that’s trapped him rather than the fight. Through all of this, his nonchalant, charismatic smile never leaves, and never fails to infuriate the hermits. “It seems we have something in common here. Though one of us definitely chose the harder route.” 

“We are nothing alike, you asshole.” Selene hisses, reeling back and casting her magic. In the split second between the spell being summoned and taking effect, Dolios uses his own spell.. A concussive blast, just like he used in the chess match so long ago, sending the hermits and wanderers tumbling down through the snow. The mountain rumbles, snow shifting and threatening to collapse into an avalanche. To sweet away the rescue team.

“Well, at least now I have an audience to witness the beginning of a new sport.” Dolios rights himself, brushing the snow from his robes and turning back to the wasp covered, incapacitated dragon. “Dragons are so dangerous, only the strongest, bravest mages would dare slay a dragon. Think of the honor to be in such an exclusive group.” 

“Fucker!” Avon shouts, launching herself free from the snow, unleashing every once of her magic, as well as her trident, against Dolios. But he bats it away, and grabs the draconic mage from midair, hands wrapped around a wing and tipping her towards the explosive volcano below. 

“Well, if none of you are going to be a gracious audience, why not become willing participants as well? I may not have gotten the joy of seeing that criminal burn before my eyes. But I will relish in wiping you all from existence, right alongside this monster.” Dolios’s gaze turns wild, frenzied as he raises an arm. The sleeve of his robes falls back, wine red fabric and trimmed gold seams fleeing from the swirling black mist. The power of his dark magic grows stronger, more violent. Even from this far away, the hermits can feel the deadly, life draining energy that he harnesses. 

Dolios lines up the shot, so that every last hermit, every single wanderer, and eastern fire dragon is in the line of fire. A maniacal smile grows on his face, thirst for death and the feeling of pure control and power overwhelming him. The angled fingers turn, ready to snap together and release enough dark magic to destroy every living being in the line of fire. His thumb rests on his middle finger, pressing down. 

Then his eyes roll backwards, hand and body falling limp into the melting snow. None of the hermits, the wanderers, even Flaryn breathe for a second, realizing that Dolios is passed out. Not dead, unfortunately. But how? Did he overexert his dark magic? 

Another person is on the crest of the volcano. Long blue hair, straight and flat as if it had been slept on. Mostly because it was. Tired, bored eyes sparked with a hint of determination, and finned ears flick aside the pyroclastic ash from the eruption. His chest rises and falls, body exhausted from overusing his magic. 

“You don’t have much time.” Apatia breathes, body slumped. About to pass out as well. “I did as much as I could to keep him knocked out as long as possible, but his mgic took the brunt of my own. You leave, I’ll make sure the dragon spirit is okay.” 

The councilmember steps forward, offering a hand to the hermits. Ecto recoils, preferring to sink deeper into the snow she hates than be anywhere near Apatia. “Why should we trust you? You’re a part of his crony gang. You’ve been letting him, helping him do horrible things!” 

Apatia’s shoulders slump, and he looks as exhausted mentally as he is physically. “I don’t have time to explain everything. He’s going to wake up soon, and he won't fall for that trick again. Let’s just say I… I’m tired of just letting bad things happen to good people.” 

Red’s the first up, the two kiplings looking at one another. Apatia offers a soft nod, some unspoken conversation between the two. Avon does her best to ease the pain and help her mentor from the wasp attack, while Cub opens a portal. 

“Can’t we just drop him into the volcano?” Ren questions. “This could finally all be over.” 

“It won’t stop his work, not with Eurynomos in the forest. Waiting.” The hermits glance at one another. Eurynomos. Is that the name of the beast they found? “Just...send him back to Milliara. We can’t have people wondering what’s happened to their beloved magistrate as well.”

“Just one stab?” Avon questions, still furious he called her a monster. “He deserves more than what we’re letting him off with.”

To Cub’s chagrin, he knows that Apatia is right. As much as he’d love to finish Dolios off now, to get this over with, nothing is ever that easy. Once Dolios is gone, there team of rescuers step through their own portal. The wanderers first, and the hermits following after. 

Iskall steps through last, but turns while he’s in between places. Looking at the councilmember. Apatia looks back, exhausted. “Know that you hermits aren’t alone. This is your fight, but you have others on your side now too.”

[vicecityhq]

██████████████]99% LOADING...SUSPECT INTO THE APD DATABASE...

WITNESS(ES) SAY HE REMINDS THEM OF: autumn, forestpunk, cottagegore, darkest academia . With a slight resemblance to PAKORN THANASRIVANITCHAI of/the ACTOR.

CLICK BELOW TO VIEW ENTIRE FILE.

FULL FILE:

Last Name, First Name: Suwannarat, Briar Alias: Pan (codename for his job), Ari (more of a nickname than an alias) Realm of birth (if earth, nationality): Earth realm, Thailand Age: 29 Date of Birth: November 23rd Gender: Male Preferred Pronouns: He/Him Species: Children of the Twelve - Sagittarius Occupation: Police Detective Sexual Orientation: Homosexual

VISUAL FILE: 

Skin Color: Tanned, burnt orange hue with a smattering of chocolate freckles along his face. He has the same freckles throughout his body, but has bigger white spots along his shoulders, the backs of his ears, and his outer hips. Eye color: Honey Brown Scars: None that have a significant story Piercings: None Tattoos: None Hair color: Dark chocolate brown Abnormalities: Fawn-like ears Horns/ wings/ etc: Small, stumpy antlers that stick just above his hair Transformed form: He does not have a transformation.

PERSONAL FILE:

RELIGIOUS BELIEF: Agnostic, but was raised Buddhist SINS:  greed  /  gluttony  /  sloth  /  lust  /  pride  /  envy  /  wrath VIRTUES: chastity  /  charity  /  diligence  /  humility /  kindness /  patience /  justice KNOWN LANGUAGES: English, Thai, Latin SECRETS: Teen romance can be rough, right? It’s like two colliding whirlwinds of emotions, hormones, and desires. One minute you’re together, the next you’re broken up for no reason. Now when that volatility is coupled with doubts about sexuality, it’s just a disaster waiting to happen. Most people didn’t accidentally melt half of their boyfriend’s face off and cause him to have to undergo grueling, expensive reconstructive surgery that would never quite make things right, though. Briar had told him the gloves had to stay on, but kids were reckless and foolishly believed in their own infallibility so it didn’t take much convincing to risk it all for some skin on skin. Then next thing they knew, Briar was babbling some half brained excuse about a science experiment gone wrong while his boyfriend’s blood curdling screams echoed in his ears. It was believably enough… until a month after - when the swelling from some of his injuries went down - his former lover was able to unintelligibly mutter “Briar did it.” Then suddenly an ‘accident’ turned into a full scale investigation of malicious intent. All Briar could do was tell the truth. He didn’t know which was more difficult - coming clean about his powers or coming out of the closet. But the officer sitting across from him and his distraught mother in the cramped interrogation room didn’t seem particularly disturbed by the confession. His bushy brows only furrowed in disappointment over the entire situation. In the end, Briar was only charged with obstruction of justice for initially lying to police, but the damage to his reputation was irreparable. His mother decided it would be best to relocate, which is how Briar came to finish his last years of high school in Agdoeg.

SAVVIES: hiking, gardening, camping, sightseeing, investigative work, problem solving, riddles and puzzles.

Powers & Abilities: Zodiac Empowerment (Sagittarius: enhanced accuracy, vision, tracking), Zodiac Physiology (see above appearance), Animal (deer) Spirit Summoning, Fthinóporokinesis (Autumn manipulation), Rot Inducement/Decaying Touch, Body Part Erosion, Luck, Evolution Manipulation, Supernatural Bowmanship.

Traits: (positive) Determined, intelligent, neat freak, health conscious, animal lover, usually down to earth, assertive, responsible, (negative) Sarcastic, impatient, untrusting, can have a temper when someone pushes him too far, distant, prioritizes work over everything else.

BACKGROUND CHECK:

Date of Birth: November 23rd

Date of Death: N/A

Crime Record: Most would assume someone has to have a clean slate to enter law enforcement, but that would leave slim pickings in a city like Agdoeg. Briar doesn’t have any outstanding criminal record, but he did have a couple of dings on his juvenile one that were expunged once he became a legal adult and, therefore, they can no longer be found in most databases.

Background/Biography

(tw miscarriage, tw immaculate conception by some strange god XD, tw domestic disputes, tw divorce) 

 Briar’s parents had been struggling to conceive a child for many years, since their prompt marriage right out of secondary school. These sweet hearts had longed to have a cookie cutter life and family, but fate seemed to inhibit that every step of the way. His mother have seven miscarriages due to the condition of an incompetent cervix and was told many times that she may never be able to carry a child to full term. This had been devastating news to the couple, who had no means of affording everything that went into surrogacy and were now facing the reality that they may never be able to have their own children. In spite of these odds, though, they kept trying and praying that whatever Gods that were out there might grant them a miracle.

Their prayers never seemed to be answered, though, and this put an understandable strain on their marriage. It was when his mother was thirty three and beginning to lose hope that she was plagued by a strange dream. She was floating in a vast emptiness, unable to move or even scream. This might have terrified someone else, but she somehow felt safe blanketed in the darkness. It was as if the entire universe lay bare before her, starlight dancing between her outstretched fingertips. Except she didn’t have fingers. She didn’t even have a physical body. There was a sense that she had become a part of something greater or perhaps been broken down into a form akin to what they had all been before the universe collided together in some cosmic firework show to create all that they knew. After what seemed like an eternity if time even passed in that world, the stars began to slowly take shape before her, pulled together by gravity or some other force she would never quite understand. As they converged, the light became so bright that it was nearly blinding, but she was space dust so how could she look away? She remembers trying to rationalize it with that absurd thought as the light shifted around her and the sound of harps and a heavenly chorus interrupted the sacred stillness that she’d been immersed in until then. Heralding the coming of something… or someone. The light came together at the peak of the crescendo, shapeless but she somehow got the sense of a shapely figure wrapped in a gown the longer she stared into it. This motherly figure bent over her and she recalled the warmth as its tendrils of light stroked over her cheek before urging her mouth open. In that moment, she didn’t feel any sense of unease as the being urged her to partake of its light. It traveled past her lips and through every corner of her being, rushing into her fingertips and even the ends of her hair. It was the first time since being in that plane that she had any sense of where she ended and the rest of the world began. The last thing she remembered was that light condensing, forming into its own little star in the lower part of her abdomen and radiating such soothing warmth…

Then she woke up and that was the first time she really had any sense of unease about the strange dream. As someone who had experienced how odd dreams could get during pregnancy, though, she took it as a good sign. Sure enough, when she took a test three weeks later, she was pregnant! Unlike prior, when she’d lost her children around the three month mark, this child was growing strong and without the complications she always worried about. Everything seemed to finally be falling into place. Their marriage and hope in the future was revitalized! And after nine months of perhaps the most physical and emotional pain she had ever been in in her entire life, she was welcoming a beautiful, healthy baby boy into the world and never once thought about the unsettling dream at the start of it all.

Admittedly, Briar was certainly a unique baby. His ears had always been a little odd since birth - bigger than usual - but his parents figured he would just grow into them and found it one of his most endearing traits. However, when he was three years old, that’s when his antlers started coming in. His mother found them one night when she was reading him a bedtime story and running her fingers through his unruly mop of wavy hair. Understandably, she freaked out and brought him to the doctor the next day, who took a biopsy and found the strange growths to primarily be made of calcium. It was unusual, but they decided to simply keep an eye on it since it seemed harmless enough. They only became more noticeable as the years went by, poking through his hair, and Briar recalls the Chinese Buddhists of his neighborhood always telling his mother it was a sign of good fortune. At the time, Briar had always thought it was annoying how they’d always want to lay their hands on him, but he realized as he’d gotten older that they believed the cow was Guanyin’s reincarnated father and the stubby little nubs atop his head made them think he was blessed. But horns and antlers are two different things - one being keratinous and, the other, bone - but he supposed it was easy to confuse them at first glance. Going into adolescence, those things grew like crazy. As if puberty and having velvety twigs growing on your head wasn’t stressful enough, that was when Briar first noticed his parents beginning to drift apart. One night, when coming home late from a friend’s house, he overheard a heated argument between them in the kitchen and his father’s accusations would forever be etched into his mind... “You thought you could trick me forever? I don’t know who knocked you up, but I can’t pretend that thing is my son!” The words drove through him like a knife. Yet after the initial shock subsided, Briar felt for the first time that all the little confusing pieces he’d chosen to overlook his entire life began to make sense. At first his parents had simply assumed he’d taken on more features of his mother, but his father had begun to grow distant as his otherworldly features and powers emerged. The reality was that two humans couldn’t possibly have made a half-deer-whatever-he-was and the only logical explanation was that he wasn’t his father’s at all. He only wished he’d come to that conclusion sooner instead of deluding himself and becoming foolishly attached to the man… The divorce was relatively swift. The judge didn’t even demand a paternity test when his father rebuked having to pay child support. All he had to do was look across the courtroom and he could tell that the speckled, big eared, horned child standing there wasn’t his. It was a dirty, unjust move that besmirched his mother as a disloyal wife and watching her go through that emotional rollercoaster was perhaps the toughest thing of the whole ordeal. Thirteen year old Briar comforted her through the fits of tears and had a strong upper lip when she insisted that she’d never betrayed his father… What bothered him the most was that he couldn’t believe her, but he also couldn’t be angry or blame her either. He had always been closer with his mother and he promised her in those moments of weakness that he would always take care of her. Of course, a single mother with a bad reputation was not an easy gig when trying to support a family. They were forced to move from their smaller town into the teeming metropolis of Bangkok for her to find work and Briar was honestly quite happy with leaving the past behind him. He thrived in the city with its far more diverse population. No one looked at him like he was a freak when he rode the bus or went to buy groceries. It was the first time he felt like he could truly be himself. He had his fair share of rough patches, just like any hormonal teenager, but having otherworldly powers and no one to teach you how to use them certainly caused a few catastrophic, social life obliterating faux pas. His mother thankfully was able to transfer within her company to the Agdoeg branch. It meant not only relocating in the middle of high school for Briar, but moving to an entirely new country. The level of diversity and integration of the supernatural community within Agdoeg was even better than what he’d experienced before. They were in government, owned small businesses… But not all of them were reputable or honest. Briar quickly learned that there were parts of the city that he shouldn’t venture to if he knew what was good for him. However, in spite of the seedier things going on in the underbelly, he was able to find a youth center which helped him to get a better handle on his powers and met his role model who would eventually lead him into his career as a police officer.

INTERVIEW QUESTION (para sample): “Just run us through what happened that night”. - Officer

Briar squeezed his eyes shut tight in an attempt to chase away the spots dancing across his vision from the overbearing fluorescent bulbs that bore down on the table in the center of the interrogation room. It was so intense that he could hear the hum of the electricity going to it and, somehow, he mentally processed that before the weight of the officer’s words. Words he’d uttered himself many times when the roles were flipped. Normally, this was the point a smart suspect would clam up and demand to talk to a lawyer, but clearly this was some kind of joke and he’d just missed the punchline. “Ha. Ha! Very funny.” He gruffed, devoid of amusement as he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose to ward off the pounding headache settling in like someone was playing the bass drum behind his eyeballs.

The precinct had all been out drinking the night before, celebrating closing a case that had been busting their proverbial balls for the last six months, and there was a point after countless shots of tequila that Briar didn’t even know what was up and what was down, let alone why they were even there anymore. Now, he didn’t doubt that many profoundly stupid things had fallen from his lips and been done, but he hardly would have thought it would be anything illegal. Officers protected their own and someone less inebriated surely would have stopped him before he did anything he’d regret. Trying to wrack his brain, Briar bent to press his forehead to the cool metal of the table with a pitious groan. He remembered waking up in one of the cells to the sound of the door noisily being opened and before he could even get his bearings, two uniformed men were hauling him up and dragging him down the hallway toward the room he sat in now. None of it made a lick of sense.

“I’m afraid this isn’t a joke, Officer Suwannarat. Something very serious happened tonight and we need you to tell us why.”

The brutally stern voice sobered Briar up really quick and he lifted his head up from the table to narrow his eyes on the man that sat across from him, his fawn-like ears flicking in annoyance. He’d worked on the force for many years now and he wasn’t about to be hassled by some nameless rookie who was probably forced in here by his supervising officer, like a lamb being pushed into a cage with a bear. “Listen- no. What is going on?” He demanded with surprising eloquence for someone who’s tongue felt like a dried up sponge in his mouth. Drunk drought be damned. “Am I under arrest? ‘Cause if I am, you better tell me the charges or else I’m walking right out that door and finding your commanding off-”

What was likely going to be a memorable tirade was cut short as the door to the interrogation room swung open and a handful of officers poured into the small space like salmon all fighting to spawn upstream. All Briar could do was stare wide eyed where he was glued to his seat and watch with no small amount of mortification while a cake was set in front of him with messy lettering iced on top that read ‘Congrats on your Promotion! Now you’re their problem.’ Feeling the mixture of rage and bewilderment quickly begin to ebb away, the corners of Briar’s lips twitched into a crooked smile and he shook his head in exasperation. “You’re fucking kidding me. Who’s terrible idea was this?” He demanded with a mirthless laugh as he deflated back into the hard metal chair and glanced around at the familiar faces of the men and women he’d worked with for the past ten years. God, how had he survived their crazy antics and made it this far?

“What do you mean? We had to give you a memorable send-off.” His partner mounted his defense and slunk out from the crowd to give Briar an encouraging clap on the shoulder. “Besides, do you know how hard it was to carry your heavy ass into the cell to pull this off? The least you could do was say thank you. Geez. Too good for us already, Detective?”

Briar should thank him. That much he’d already mentally concluded. But shoving his partner’s smug face into the cake was also a tempting option. Instead, he reached up to gently pat the other’s hand with his gloved one. “Never.” He assured him gently before a chorus of obnoxious coos from the peanut gallery made sure to not only kill the moment but beat it once it was down. Pushing himself up from the chair, Briar swayed unsteadily and shamelessly grappled a couple of his friends for balance on his route to the door. “Ugh. Alright, get me out of this room before I literally end someone and get stuck here forever. That cake better be chocolate, I swear-”