#and the dark side of their life are bad and should be frown upon

[silversoulstardust]

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[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Lilia please impart some sage wisdom to Fellow like how Uncle Iroh gave advice to the one guy that tried to mug him in Ba Sing Se. He fr needs some guidance counseling

I wrote this one while running on like 4 hours of sleep so I’m sorry if this doesn’t make sense 🤡

So tell me, do you wanna go?

Fellow nearly leapt out of his own skin at the figure that descended, upside down, from a tree. They were short, with choppy bangs streaked with magenta, his irises the same bright color, his vest a neon green. But youthful as the student seemed, his voice was as ancient and as deep as a starry night sky.

“Do my eyes deceive me?” Lilia drawled. “If it isn’t Fellow and young Gidel. It has been quite some time. How goes it? I certainly hope you boys have been behaving yourselves.”

"W-We've been just fine and dandy, I assure you!" Fellow instinctively took a step in front of Gidel. He provided the broadest smile he could muster in that moment. "And you've been in good spirits as well, I presume?"

"Oh, I'm fit as a fiddle, as you can see." The fae swung, righting himself and expertly landed beside Fellow. Gidel clapped, as if applauding a acrobatic performance, but stopped when Fellow shot him a withering look. "Now then, what brings you to our side of the island, hmm? Surely you're not simple tourists."

"Call it temporary residence."

"Temporary residence!" Lilia echoed, his eyes set glimmering like jewels. "My, that takes me back. I was a globe trotter back in my day too, you know. Lived the nomadic life, going wherever the wind took me."

Fellow stared at him as though he had just sprouted a third eye on his forehead. This guy's got a baby face, but he's talkin' like an old geezer... (If Lilia noticed, he wasn't bothered and continued, unfettered.)

"It's wonderful to meet new people and to experience new cultures," he said dreamily. "You learn so much, even from the humblest and most simple of folk. And such interesting stories they shared, kufufu. I’d like to depart on another trip, but I’m afraid school’s got me preoccupied.”

Fellow found himself frowning. He scanned Lilia up and down—the smart uniform, his high-waisted pants, shoes polished. Neat and sweet, likely another privileged kid vacationing on daddy’s dime.

When you’re poor, they call it trashy. When you’re rich, they call it ‘taking time off to discover yourself’.

“Must’ve been real nice for ya,” Fellow muttered under his breath. The brim of his top hat fell down, eclipsing his grimace. “You can choose to stay put or leave for a new place whenever you want. It’s not really an option for us.”

“Ah, but it’s not about the frequency of travel but what you gain from it.” Lilia lifted an index finger. “For example, did you know that sleeping with an uncovered mirror directly at you is bad feng shui in the Land of Crimson Long? They also have an awe-inspiring tale about a woman that took her father’s place in the military and saved the whole country.”

Gidel listened to him intently, ears perking up.

Lilia noticed, his mouth quirked. “Oh? I trust you’ve yet to visit. You should sometime, it’s a lovely place.”

“Maybe one day, though we never stay for too long. The locals, as you can probably imagine, always come to realize they aren’t fans of us.”

“If you opened your hearts to them, then surely…”

“We don’t have that luxury,” Fellow replied, a bit of ice to his words, ��unlike you. The world isn’t that kind to us.”

Lilia quieted. His expression shifted, turning several shades more serious. “… Oh dear. I knew a man like you once. He was lost too. Angry, confused, despairing—and lashing out at the world and the people he believed had wronged him, denied him happiness.

“One day, while wandering in the darkness, he came upon a patch of moonlight. It lit the way and led him out of the thicket he had been trapped in for so long.”

That man was…

Lilia smiled softly.

“We cannot turn back time, but we can make the most of what we have left. If I may ask just one thing of you… live on. Look for that moonbeam in the night, that what brings you happiness. Protect it, treasure it, nurture it—so that it may, someday, see the sun.”

Lilia gave a gentle nudge to Gidel, causing the boy to stumble. He caught Fellow’s arm to balance himself.

“And if you can do that for one person, then it’s possible for you to do that for everyone. This world needs more love… not war.”

Fellow shook his head indignantly, but he supported Gidel by the back all the same. “I don’t get a lick of that. Love, war… whatever it is, it’s not my problem. We just gotta get by.”

“Someday, you’ll understand,” Lilia said with a terse laugh. “For now, I think you’re doing absolutely fine as you are. You’re the dynamic duo, never one without the other.”

Fellow smirked, his canines proudly protruding. “Hmph. You’re damn right we are.”

[spitefulverse]

Here / Miguel O’hara

Summary: You find an angry, injured miguel and help clean his wounds.

Warnings: Blood, anger, kissing, spanish cussing, maybe bad spanish lmao, established relationship (kind of), short fic, blurb. NOT PROOFREAD

Miguel was a hard working man, and sure that was great, it meant that the universe stayed the way it should, canon events happening at the right moments, millions alive because of him, but sometimes, he came off..a bit much. While you knew you were nothing special, occasionally, he would glare his fangs at you a little less than the other workers in the building if you ever suggested some carefree criticism.

As of maybe two days ago, Your boss/lover..kind of, a man that you had slept with countless times but he refused to deeply talk with you, had just 'failed dramatically' in the words off Jess. No one had seen him since, despite constantly asking Lyla for information, she had nothing and you took it upon yourself to knock on his door nervously, your ankles rubbing together as you stared at the ground. To your dismay, you heard no reply, just the same banging and clashing that had been ringing through the building since he went in there.

With a sharp inhale, you pushed the door open and peaked in, the place was a wreck, he was hunched over his desk, his hands gripping at the corners as his chest heaved, his suit looking ripped in various areas. "Sinceramente no peudo mas, no peudo mas" He stood straight, pinching the bridge of his nose and pacing back and forth, his large back flexing under his suit. "maldito" He mumbled.

Suddenly, you cleared your throat, looking around at the rubble that once was furniture. He finally acknowledged your presence, eyes wide, pupils blown and eyebrows knitted into a tight frown. "What?" He asked, shaking his head in confusion, his tone passive aggressive.

You opened your mouth to speak but grew nervous under his dark glare through his lashes, his eyes shining a darker red hue than usual compared to the dim lighting of the room "God- Fucking damnit! Qué quieres chica?!" He yelled and you put your hands up in defense, not wanting to piss him off "Shit Miguel, I'm just checking on you" You choked out.

He strode over, his large frame towering over you more and more as his feet padded against the floor.His cheekbones were a little more defined than usual, his eyes were sunken, his lips were dry, a small line of old blood on one side of his bottom lip, you wanted so desperately to clean him up, help him rest but you knew the stubborn, emotionally cut off 6,9 man wouldn't allow it. "oh yeah? Get out, I'm fine"

He scowled and turned away, standing next to a half broken chair, he placed his large hands on the edge of it, gripping so hard his knuckles began to turn a lighter shade, his eyes squinting. You could see a gash in his back, his suit ripped perfectly around it, both dry and wet blood surrounding it. "Your still here, cariño" He grunted, The chair simply shattering in his grip, in fright, you jumped, eyes widening, but he was still, it was uncanny how nonreactive he was.

"I-i can't just leave you like this, Miguel-" A few droplets of deep red spilled onto the floor, directly from his palms and you gasped "fuck, your bleeding! Please just let me help you" You apprehensively sauntered over to him, this time he said nothing, his head straight down. "Come to my room? I have a first aid kit, you wont have to go to medical" He hated medical. He inhaled roughly and looked down at you with undignified eyes, groaning with a nod.

With concern, you pulled him to your room, hand on his forearm as he held his palms upwards, blood pooling in the lines of them but luckily, it wasn't that far, and you were able to get there quick and unseen, for his sake. You let go of his arm to unlock your door, pushing t open and he took in another deep breath, you assumed out of anger control or nerves but deep down he couldn't handle being this close to you and your personal life, your room smelt so strongly of you, everything matched your personality, even the mess draped on the floor.

You mumbled an apology before tugging him into your bathroom but he just shook his head "Idiota, no me importa" he murmured, leaning on the bathroom counter. His eyes followed your frame as you grew frantic at how much he was bleeding. He tilted his head and watched you in amusement, you could feel his red orbs burning into you but you refused to look, knowing he would distract you. You held out a towel, lifting his hands and making him squeeze the towel between them, he flinched slightly, not because of the pain, because of the feeling of your dainty hands attempting to cover his large ones, he couldn't help but long for more of your touch as you pulled back to look for a first aid kit.

"keep that there please, Miggy" You pleaded, pulling out the kit and he nodded, rolling his eyes "Yes boss"

Your soft hands came into contact with his calloused, slender ones again, gently removing the towel, wiping the area clean with ever so much care and focus. He didn't care about the light sting, his eyes were entrapped on your frame. He denied all his feelings for you everyday, you had an effect on him that no one could even imagine and it drove him mad, he tried so desperately not to make it obvious, but he never wanted to be mean to you, sure he had some anger issues but he never really liked to yell at you, even though he should, because he yells at every one else.

"I'm sorry, Muneca..I shouldn't have took my anger out on you" he huffed, looking to the side as you wrapped his hands in the softest bandage he had ever felt. You smiled, having never heard him apologize. "Nono, i just let myself in when you were ragging, that's on me" You placed a hand on his chest, outstretching your arm to do so.

He shook his head and looked down at you, placing his hand on your own "No, you shouldn't be afraid to speak to me" He lifted your hand and pressed a kiss to your knuckles "Lo siento, mi amor..forgive me" He sincerely spoke, obviously you nodded, smiling brightly.

"I forgive you, Miggy, now turn your ass around, you can't hide that gash from me" You ordered, removing your hand from his and pointing. He groaned, turning around, you aw the injury but the barrier of his suit and cleared your throat. He groaned again, dliding the suit off his shoulders till they it hung low on his waist, revealing his bare, tanned back. You gulped and inhaled after what felt like forever before sitting on the counter to match his height.

Gently, you began to wipe the long but not to deep cut that danced over his back muscles, with every flinch, he flexed his back muscles and you found yourself staring, taking time with him. When he began to mumble Spanish cuss words under bis breath, you finished up, pressing a kiss to his shoulder and dropping the bloody cloth in the sink. He sighed and turned around to face you, standing between your legs, his hands resting on either of your thighs as he ducked down to kiss you, his lips molding against your own in what felt like a desperate kiss. You moaned lightly and wrapped your arms around his neck, he snickered into the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours, the kiss tasting of both mint, like always and a hint of blood from the small cut on his lip.

One of his large hands slid up your waist, squeezing at your skin and pulling you close to him before he pulled back enough to press a few gentle kisses to your jaw "thank you, pretty thing"

--

Hi my loves, i will be uploading a smut soon, this was just a filler to make myself active in the fandom

[unholyhelbig]

are you going to continue the spiderperson Kate bishop au?

[a/n: Sorry for the absence! I had to move apartments and that is always a task, especially during the summer]

Title: Magnetic

Ship: Kate Bishop x gn!reader

Disclaimer: I did not proofread, if there are mistakes, I'm sorry!

Trigger warnings: Fight! Fight! Fight!

Main Masterlist | Ao3 | Request Prompts | Join my Taglist!

Part One | Part Two

Summary: Reader is a spider!person from earth-2099 and Kate Bishop is curious about why she's so drawn to them.

“We should get married” the words were whispered to you, her breath hot against your cheek, smelling so thickly of the champagne that was offered upon your arrival. Kate’s nose was comparatively cold, brushing against your skin. It made you shiver, hitting all the way at the base of your spine.

You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. Kate’s green eyes were focused on your father again, as he and Lyla gave their alternating speech about the future of Alchemax. They were to change the world, and if they didn’t like the way it had been altered, they’d simply have the power to jump to a new one.

“You’re drunk,” You answered, taking a deliberate sip of your own drink.

“Tipsy, at best and entirely serious at worst.”

You frowned at that, finally devoting your full attention to the woman on your arm. The two of you were matching dark green, something that brought out the gold in her eyes. What your father was saying had no weight to it, never did. Sure, you understood the bare minimum of his science, and you were just here for obligation, but now his speech turned into a dull hum.

Nothing else mattered other than the small smile on Kate’s face, her arm looped through yours, warm and steadying. She plucked another flute from a catering tray and when she took a drink, red rimmed the glass.

“Is this a formal offer?” You asked, eyebrow raised.

“Just a thought. I’d expect a ring, you know?”

You parted your lips to respond, but the room flooded with a roar of clapping and cheers. Kate winked at you and turned her attention back to the stage. Your father had found you through the crowd, his hands clenching both sides of the glass podium.

His head was cocked to the side, jaw working in anger. There was a hatred behind his stare, one that went past general annoyance. You raised your hands, clapped with the rest of the crowd. Lyla put a hand on your father’s shoulder, drawing him back, a smile complacent on his face.

The air that you pulled into your lungs was cold and damp, a stark contrast to the warmth you had drifted into. At some point, a window opened, and a cold wind whipped through a living room that you barely recognized.

The sun was peaking over the horizon, and deep glowing embers from a dying fire failed to provide any heat. You squinted at the rain on the windowsill, what had dribbled in from a quick entry.

Your eyes moved to each darkened corner of the room, something that looked so familiar to your own apartment, but lived in, comfortable. There was a sense of dread in the pit of your stomach- one that was strong enough to wake you from a fitful sleep coated in memories of a life lost.

There was pressure in your head, every inch of hair on your body standing on end. Without thinking, because thinking was bad when it came to Spider Sense, you just had to do, you grabbed the throw pillow from under your head and held it in front of you.

The sound of ripping fabric filled your ears and feathers exploded all around you. It had been torn into two, and as you stared up at the blob of a person who had done that pillow homicide, you struggled to gather your thoughts.

Without the grunt of frustration, you wouldn’t have recognized him, not as your eyes adjusted to the slowly rising sun. In your sleep-ridden state, you still managed to wedge your foot under your attacker and toss him across the room, knocking picture frames and keyholders from their designated place.

“Miguel?”

You were standing now, staring at your older brother with enough contempt to light the end of a torch. He lumbered over the room, his shadow reaching you. With each breath he took, he growled. His eyes were unblinking, red.

“I didn’t want to believe it.” He hissed, “That you… were world hopping.”

He sounded older, angrier than you had ever heard him before. His fists were clenched and as the light filled the room you got a good look at his suit, his mask pulled off and wild black hair falling into his stare. His teeth were pointed, bared like a wild animal. You ran your tongue over your own, keeping them sheathed.

The last time you saw Miguel was at the very dinner you had left to get your father for. He was in a stupid patterned sweater that you were poking fun at all night. But there were laugh lines around his eyes and warmth that was lacking from the room now.

Your voice cracked “Did dad do this to you?”

“I asked him to, begged him. He’s been so focused on getting you back that it took some convincing. More than some, really. Day and night all he would do is stare at the monitor tracking your signature.” Miguel lilted his head to the side “He fell asleep just in time for you to pop up in this world.”

“Does he know?”

“I came as soon as I saw. I wanted to see my big bad sibling in the flesh. Infused with vampire DNA, strong enough to dismantle father brick by brick with his… his longing.”

“Miguel, does he know?”

“Not yet.”

Tension leaked through the distance in the room. You could taste the feathers in your mouth, lingering with the blood from a chewed lip. This was not the brother you remembered. This was a mercenary, this was a man who had no grip on reality.

“While I’m super stoked about the reunion, brother, this isn’t my place and you’ve already shredded a throw pillow” A lamp shattered by your head, echoing off the wall and sprinkling glass at your feet. You looked down at the mess and back up at him. “Dude?”

Miguel moved with a quickness that mirrored yours, his claws exposed and swiping through the air. You grasped his wrist, using your other hand and your strength behind it to hit him in the stomach. You felt the air rush from his lungs, hot on your face.

“Reunions are for the weak. Love is for the weak.” He pulled your arm back and you grunted in pain, shoulder popping. “That’s always been your biggest problem.”

You frowned, using the weight behind you to push him over the back of the sofa and onto the hardwood floor. He scrambled, hitting the back of his head against the tabled pushed up to the window. The sun was streaming through now, orange and unforgivingly strong.

“Weak? You’re the one that’s always hidden behind daddy’s money, his science. Don’t you understand Miguel? I didn’t want this. I didn’t want any of this. I had everything, and I was happy.”

“Yes. Weak.” He hauled himself to his feet, using the back of his hand to wipe away a streak of blood from his lip. “Naive. You put all of yourself into one girl and that was a liability. That angered father more than anything, you know? He gave you the world and you squandered it for someone rotting in a wooden box.”

He meant to provoke anger. It was a tactic that he used often and ferociously since the two of you were children. Miguel had a mean streak and was quick to rage. He would rip your toys apart with his bare hands, and during one particularly nasty fight right before your senior prom he had gnawed the cap off an ink pen and dripped it across the fabric of your outfit.

Kate had reassured you that it was fine, that none of it mattered and was superficial anyway. Still, when she arrived on your doorstep dark blue splotches muddied her silver dress. A smile cracked against her lips. She had even found a blue carnation to match.

There were good moments with Miguel. More good than bad, if you looked back on it. Once he matured, and apologized for his behavior, there was still an edge of jealousy around him. His need to please. You had let go of that aspect of yourself years before when you realized nothing you did would satiate your father.   

Regardless of his intention, it provoked the right reaction. You were, after all, mostly human and when your brother pushed your buttons, he did with intention. You found yourself on top of him, knees on either side as you shoved his shoulders to the wooden floor. In a blind rage, you threw as many hits as you could; one after the other, your knuckles aching, each time you pulled back more black blood would coat your knuckles.

Your own claws, something you barely exposed, pushed into the soft skin of your palms, a sharp sting aiding in your anger. Eventually you felt an arm around your midsection, pulling you back with unnatural strength.

“Whoa, Whoa, Whoa!” Peter’s voice snapped you out of it.

You felt the aching of your shoulder, no doubt pulled out of place for the second time this month. You tried to blink away the anger, the despair that came with Miguel’s statement. Blood dripped from your fingers, puddling on the carpet. Deep breathes, you just needed deep breaths.

There was another hand on your shoulder, the scent of egg and bread that wormed it’s way through the metallic air in the room. The grasp was tender, and a hand was on your face, leading you.

Kate

Again, she had shown up at the most inopportune time. You’d absolutely ruined the shirt she had given you, and feathers were stuck to the blood in your hair. Miguel would be fine, you were sure. Afterall, you healed the same way.

“Hey,” Kate ran her fingers over your cheeks, “Y/n, come back to me, alright? Put the teeth away.”

The teeth. God, you had bitten through your bottom lip. You ran your tongue over the sharpened tips, relished the pressure that was released when you let them escape. Still, you were quick to reign it back in, take a shaking breath.

You came back to the room around you. It was a wreck; glass sprinkling the wooden floor, features coating every viable surface. Miguel let out a soft groan, masked with a gurgle. Peter was at his side, fingers searching haplessly for a pulse. He wouldn’t find a strong one.

They had gotten breakfast, leaving you alone in the apartment to sleep. Quickly, you wiped your fingers on the already ruined garment, giving Kate a pleading look of an apology. There was no fear behind her eyes, nothing that evaded to disgust of the monster that was standing in front of her. Because that’s what you were at the end of the day.

The same monster that was lying unconscious on the floor. You had the same teeth, and claws, and DNA running through your veins. The experiment had worked on you in the same manner. And part of you- part of you wondered if your Kate would still feel the same way about you, looking at you now.

“He,” Your voice was soft, garbled, so you cleared your throat “He won’t stay out for long.”

Kate pleaded silently, “Pete?”

“I’ve got it.”

You were being led into the back bedroom. It was Kate’s, something apparent by the abundance of trophies, and a workstation that was littered with small pieces of explosives. There was a target with a news article for King Pin strapped against it’s center. Her aim, of course, was impeccable.

It smelled like her, the scent cutting through the blood and the dizziness that rushed through you, an after-effect of the anger. She led you to the bed, plopping you down and digging in the bottom drawer of her desk. Kate emerged with a first-aide kit. You let her busy herself, blinking away the rest of the disorientation.

You attempted to get up, but Kate pushed you back down gently, deliberately. There was a stern look on her face that was enough to keep you in your place. You’d let her play doctor, fix up the wounds that struggled to heal. Her touch was gentle, soothing, and constant.

“This was a horrible idea.” Kate admonished, a frown on her face as she shifted through the loose bandages and the small packets of anti-septic. She was mumbling under her breath, something that was a mix of annoyance and worry. “I told you it was an awful idea and now-“

You gently grabbed her hands, halting her movement. She looked up at you, eyes hard with anger. But they softened only a moment later, a quiet surrender. You had a goofy smile on your face. The blood had dried at your hairline and maybe it was the head injury itself, but this was entirely too comical to deny.

“Katie, I fully accepted the consequences the minute I agreed to spar with Jack.”

“I’m going to kill him.”

“Love, I promise I’m okay” You laughed, moving your hand against her cheek with a softness that ebbed away the rest of her rage. “Give me a bandage and some ice and I’ll be as good as new, I swear it.”

It was supposed to be a family dinner, and then you and Jack started riling each other up over dessert. Kate’s mother swallowed a gulp of red wine and rolled her eyes, shrugging at her daughter as if there was nothing to do to stop the course of events.

Eventually, the coffee tables were pushed to the side and the fencing sabers were brought out. Kate was much better than you were by miles and miles of talent. But you could hold your own. It got out of hand, a little too competitive.

Kate was exasperated, but it only lasted for a few moments before the smile melted her exterior and she grinned herself. “Fine. Fine. You did good. It’s not your fault that you chose to puff out your chest against a swordsman.”

“Hey, I think I did amazing until I tripped over the coffee table.”

“Sure, baby. Very valiant.”

You huffed, but let Kate guide your head to the side. You winced with the alcohol pad started to wipe away the deep brown color. No stitches needed, just a strategically placed bandage. Kate placed a soft kiss between your eyebrows.

“You know,” you said, pressing your forehead against hers “You are in the perfect position to propose right now.”

“Without a ring?” Kate beamed, her nose scrunching up “Not a chance.”

Kate frowned, her thumb moving against your hairline “It looks like you’ve healed.”

There were alcohol pads scattered against the bed. They were dark red, then brown, then a soft pinkish-orange. The pad of her finger traced a barely visible scar. Electricity moved across your skin.

“It’s alright,” you assured “I’m… I’ll help clean up the mess. I’m sorry.”

Your mind was swimming and not in smooth waters. Kate looked so much like Kate. She had the same concern, the same tender touch. You stared at her, hair falling into your eyes. There had been a moment last night, before you drifted to sleep, that allowed you to hope.

Miguel had squashed it, just as he had the night that he bit into a blue ink pen. He got the same amount of blue pigment on his lips that he did on your dress, and part of you wanted to laugh at the metaphor.

“I don’t care about the mess, y/n. You’re what matters.” She grimaced, laid her hand on your knee. “Are you alright? Who is that man?”

“My older brother. He’s got a nasty temper and it won’t take long for my father to follow him through whatever hell he crawled out of.”

Again, you attempted to stand, but Kate pushed you back down with more force this time. Her hand had moved to your shoulder, keeping you in place. “Relax for a second, alright? We knew this was coming. This is just an extra obstacle.”

“An obstacle with the power of splice DNA like a God.” You laughed humorlessly.

“Okay, a big obstacle, but nothing we can’t overcome.”

“You’re way too optimistic for eight am.”

The dorky smile on Kate’s face was wiped away when a loud clang came from the living room. You winced, sucking air through your teeth. Kate was on her feet and pulling the door open in a moment. You were close behind, the lavender scent that clung to the girl tickled your throat.

Her mouth was propped open in shock. All of the furniture was upside down, the couch belly-side up. There were DVD’s everywhere and a potted plant that splayed dirt across the hardwood floor. The breakfast still seemed intact, but the coffee had spilled, something that caused Kate to jut her bottom lip out in a pout.

Peter stood by the window, both of his arms outstretched, and his palms pointed towards the floor. His eyes were widened. “I- one minute he was right there, and then the next, gone! Everything was floating, like gravity just got turned off.”

“Huh,” Kate lilted her head to the side “not was weird as fifteenth street bodega guy.”

“He’s gone,”

“No, pretty sure we saw him on the way to get breakfast this morning.”

You groaned, putting your head in your hands. “Not the bodega guy. My brother.”

“Right, right. No, I knew that.” Kate nodded, her face stoic again.

“He’s going to come back.” You said.

“Look, it… it doesn’t matter. Because when he does come back, we’ll be able to handle it. I have already called Clint and Yelena. They’re both in and with all four of us, there’s no way we can lose.”

There was a sadness in your eyes as you looked at the hopefulness in Kate’s. This was putting too many people out, pulling Clint away from his family and Yelena away from… whatever Yelena did in this universe. In most of them, she wasn’t fond of you.

“We wait for them to get here and come up with a strategy that will be fool proof. We can’t fail.” Kate knelt down, picking up the discarded bag of breakfast. She rummaged until she found what she was looking for and looked up at you, holding a bagel. “But first, we eat.”

“I can’t believe you’re thinking about food right now.” You shouted over the sideways smattering of rain. It would shift directions with each new gust of wind, making the awnings you and Kate had crowded under obsolete.

You’d taken off your jacket and draped it over Kate’s shoulders when the first drops had started. Both of you naively thought you could make it back to the apartment before the storm rushed in full-force.

The two of you had closed out a restaurant, never running out of conversation, drinking a full bottle of red even after dessert had been served and cleared. Now she breathed evenly, her nose inches from yours, your back against the outer wall of a storefront.

A few drops of rain sparkled in her hair, the gold flecks in her eyes noticeable when you were this close. Kate hugged your jacket closer. She chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m just saying, the ice cream in the freezer is calling my name.”

You hummed, pressing your lips to Kate’s. You could taste the earth of the wine, the coolness of the rain. She smiled into the kiss, sighing into you. She shivered, keeping her forehead pressed to yours. Thunder shook the windows of the building. Kate pulled your coat tighter around her shoulders. The woman frowned and you lilted your head to the side as she fumbled with the jacket.

“No, wait Katie-“

She pulled out a small dark green velvet box, one eyebrow lifted. Kate’s eyes met yours and you sighed, your breath forming in the air in front of you. Kate was holding hers. You carefully pulled open the lid.

Inside was a white gold engagement ring with a round diamond in the center. Two smaller ones bordered the largest stone. You had spent days talking with Clint before Laura stepped in and went ring shopping with you. And then- then the ring sat in your coat pocket for a month, weighing it down, your thumb moving across the green box more than once in question.

“I was waiting for the perfect time.” You explained, blush against your cheeks. “But nothing seemed good enough. And, maybe I’m thinking too much about it, Katie, but you deserve the entire world and every time I thought about proposing it didn’t’ seem good enough.”

“Hey,” she said softly, placing her hand on your cheek, her thumb moved across and you relished the warmth of her touch. “Hey, you’re rambling, darling.”

“That’s my line.” You sniffed, shaking your head “So… What do you say? Will you marry me?”

“Oh, I don’t know, you have to woo me first.” She said in a sigh, “Of course, I’ll marry you.”

You grinned, pulling Kate in by the lapels of your jacket. There was a whisper of honey in the taste of her tongue, a quiet longing that seemed to fill the hole in your heart. Kate hummed, pulling back every so slightly.

“Oh! Right!” You fumbled, pulling the ring from the box carefully. It was weightless, but with a heaviness that countered the pouring rain. You ran your fingers over Kate’s, gently guiding them until you could slip the ring onto her hand.

“It’s beautiful,” Kate breathed, “and perfect.”

Taglist 💜: @lovelyy-moonlight

[hotcheetohatredwastaken]

Who Heals the Healer? Day 21 – Unresponsive

Continuation of Day 7. Hyrule passes out from his injury. Legend takes care of him with Warrior’s help. He berates himself for not noticing. TW: description of injury, discussion of death

“How did it get this bad?” Legend whispered in horror. Hyrule’s condition had grown no better over the hours since he’d fainted. The hole in his side, tinted green at the edges, had been stitched up and bandaged, but the sight of it still burned itself into Legend’s mind. “How did we let it get this bad, Warrior?”

“He… I don’t know, Legend,” Warrior answered quietly. Crickets chirped in the rustling grass, announcing the coming morning. In the east, light only just brushed the low hanging clouds. Legend hadn’t slept a wink that night, keeping a vigil beside Hyrule as he tossed and turned in his sleep, whimpering when his side caught with a flare of pain that he wasn’t conscious to feel. Warrior had taken it upon himself to stay up with him, no matter how much the vet fussed about being babysat. “It… it was a chaotic situation. He just wanted to make sure that Four was safe. We all did.”

“But someone should have noticed that he wasn’t well! I should have noticed. If he hadn’t spent all of his magic healing Four—we had potions, and once Four’s life wasn’t in danger—or even fairies, Time could’ve—Hyrule wouldn’t have to be this hurt,” Legend finished finally, dropping his head into his hands. He let out a small sniffle. “I can’t believe we let it get this bad.”

“There’s nothing to do but wait it out, now,” Warrior said. “He’ll be okay, I’m sure of it.” “But what if he wasn’t?” Legend shot back tearily. “I saw that he was looking unsteady, but I didn’t even do anything about it until he was already collapsing and—I already knew that he has this stupid self-sacrificing tendency that we all do, but I went and let him heal Four without making sure that he wasn’t—!"

“Shhh, you’re going to wake the others,” Warrior hushed him. Indeed, he was sure that half of the camp was awake by now—Time’s breathing was too even to be natural, Twilight’s ear flicked irritably, and Wind grumbled out some sort of protest and turned over, pulling his pillow up over his head. Across camp, Wild sat up, made eye contact with Warrior, and slipped out of camp silently. Legend noticed none of it, and if he did, he didn’t care to mind his interruption. Warrior reached out and put a hand on Legend’s arm. “I understand that you’re upset. But it’s no one’s fault. And Hyrule doesn’t blame you. None of us do.”

Legend shoved him off irritably. “I do! I blame myself!” he protested. “Christ, he could have died, and I just—!”

Hyrule’s face twisted. He squirmed where he lay with his head in Legend’s lap, turning towards the older boy’s voice even in sleep. 

Legend ran a hand through Hyrule’s curly hair. “Rulie, are you awake?” he whispered, his voice so soft and gentle, so unlike his normal acrid jibes. It made Warrior… sad. “Rulie, can you hear me?”

“Link, can you open your eyes? Warrior found Hyrule’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “Can you squeeze my hand? Let us know you're in there, buddy.”

They both waited with bated breath, but there was no more response from Hyrule. He settled with a huff and fell back into an uneasy slumber. Legend sighed and dropped his hand back into Hyrule’s dark curls. Warrior sat back, frowning.

“He’ll be awake soon,” Warrior promised the empty air. “He just—just has to heal a bit.”

“It’s not just the injury, it’s magic exhaustion,” Legend said, his expression clouded. “It… It can be a lot more dangerous than just a simple injury. Both combined…” He trailed off and didn’t start again. 

“I’m sure he’ll be alright,” Warrior repeated, as it felt he had dozens of times before. “He just has to get through this… this magic exhaustion thing.”

Legend gave no answer. By the look on his face, he didn’t believe him, either.

Read the whole story here! Who Heals the Healer

Or check out my Febuwhump Series here! HotCheetoHatred's Febuwhump 2024

[whysodelirious08]

Loop - [E.M] - [Any Reader]

A/N: don't ask me how many words but please read it! There's a twist. Also, I started writing this at 7:25 am.

Pairing: Eddie x best friend reader. [No gender. Not that I remember putting-]

Tags: Friends, unsaid feelings, very very slight romance, stormy weather, cosy vibes.

Warnings: slight kissing. That's it.

________

Your eyes rested upon Eddie's hunched frame, his figure barely aglow in the dim lighting that sat in front of him. He was hoarding almost all the light in the basement of your house while the two of you waited out the storm. You weren't unused to seeing this familiar position, Eddie often sat at your desk. He had shoved your neatly stacked and organised homework to the side, not to complete his own. No. But to sit there meticulously painting a new figure for his D&D campaign. He'd steal a glance toward you now and then when you'd finally shift in your beanbag seat, a hardcover copy of IT in your hands but you had stopped reading a while ago, you found its contents a little sickening, especially upon reading Beverly's storyline. You felt so bad for her and you knew from this book alone that King's work was twisted and sickening. Eddie had gifted you the book for your birthday, he knew enough of what you liked when it came to reading and this book had just been released too.

Still, you needed the break from the book. Needed something...lighter. Eddie seemed to be working for you at that moment, your eyes focusing in the darkness, you could admire Eddie from a distance and never grow tired. His frizzy mane-like hair was messier than usual, implying he had woken up late before getting to your house. His eyes, big yet soft were focused intently on his paint strokes, tongue poking out which only confirmed his attention was none on you. You had noticed how his rings would clink against the paint-water-filled glass, barely caring if he knocked it though he'd look over to see if you had noticed, not wanting a telling off. His boots were kicked off under the table, and his jacket slung over the back of the old dusty pink couch. Aka Eddie's second bed. You had known Eddie your entire life, well, it seemed that way. Since you were small kids, from when you gained consciousness. You and Eddie against the world. But...he'd been hanging out with some new people lately, he'd met them at a concert and they'd travel into town to hang out more frequently than you'd like. Though you wouldn't ever admit it. You were conflicted in that regard; you wanted Eddie to be happy but you wanted him to be happy entirely in your company alone. You hated thinking such a way but Eddie was so charming he could practically make friends with anyone if he wanted, in some ways you were jealous of that. You, for the most part, only had Eddie. The fear of him being taken away made sure you kept him close. His words upon arrival suddenly rung in your mind.

"Should I just move in? Seems like you're wanting all of my attention, huh?" You remembered that grin plastered on his face as he chucked his set of keys down and opened your mini fridge.

Though your string of thoughts leading back to this afternoon didn't last long as present time Eddie's voice called out.

"Hey there, dreamer. Come look. I've finished it. I think it's going to be great for my next campaign" his voice was enthusiastic as he urged you over. You finally obliged but groaned as your aching muscles moved from their set position. You made your way over, stopping for mere moments as a loud clash of thunder rang out above, catching the attention of both of you and Eddie. A frown sunk into your features but a hand pulled you over to the desk. Eddie explained, in great detail, his painted figurine, though you couldn't help but notice it looked like you. Your usual go-to clothes and backpack. You said nothing about it. You knew how long this had taken him, from carving the character out from wood to the sanding and the drawing and finally the painting.

As you stood beside him you could smell the cigarette smoke and cologne mixture, you'd always complain about how you hated it yet it was a comfort to you. His words broke you from your trance-like state.

"So, apparently you made friends with that Johnathan? Do you think it could work out? See any potential?" He teased as he stood, finally, getting something to drink.

"Jonathan? Potential? What do you mean? I could ask you the same thing with that rock chick you've been hanging out with" You countered, though some jealousy slipped out without intending to.

"Well, I've never seen you interested in anyone. Not even when it comes to friends. And for the record, she's a friend. That's all." His words made you violently roll your eyes and walk to the couch where you plopped down with a huff.

"Okay and "for the record"-" You mocked as you closed your eyes, leaning your head back against the cushion.

"I am interested in someone. Not that I'd tell you. You'd only tease. And I have enough friends." You stated before Eddie's scent suddenly and strongly filled your nose.

"Mhm. Okay. Tell me, who is the mystery person?"

"Not gunna happen."

"Why?"

"You don't need to know."

"Yes, I do."

"No. You don't."

"Do."

"Don't."

"Do!"

"Don't!"

"I do."

"You don't."

"Is it me?"

"What?"

You knew by the way he had asked if it was him that he was completely joking but it had caught you so off guard. There was a longer pause than you had liked. The tense silence seemed to have risen faster than the drinks dispenser at Ahoys. God, you had to be quick or Steve would make you clean the mess up.

"So, it is me...?"

"No. Of course not. Why would you think it was you?"

"Well...with the way you reacted to my question I just-"

"It's not you! You just caught me off, guard. Jesus, don't you have literally anything else to do?" The words came out harsher than you had meant. You noticed how he didn't say anything back, just a shared silence that grew thicker. You finally let out a breath that had been stuck for longer than you'd like.

"Sorry...I'm...not good with admitting to things or questions or..."

"I know. I know you. I was just teasing...I didn't mean to antagonise" his voice softer than usual.

The silence remained but it became soft, more so when Eddie joined you on the couch.

"Is it me?" His voice was softer this time. Hopeful even. Your eyes drifted over to his lap where his hands rested, toying with his rings.

"And if it was? If. Eddie. If." You ask back, glancing over for not more than a second before your eyes tried to find something else to look at in the dark-ish room.

"Then...I'd probably kiss you. And hold you. And..." he trailed off, tiptoeing just as you were.

"And...?" You urged as your hands became a little sweaty, your breathing quicker through you tried your damn hardest to hide it.

"And I'd admit the same. Feelings I mean. But I- uh don't really expect it to be me" he half chuckled out, leaving you in surprise.

"Why...wouldn't it be you?" You frowned softly and turned toward him. Worriedly scanning his features.

"Because I'm the freak-"

"You are not. Don't you dare say that. You used it at school and you can use it with your band but don't you dare. For one minute. Actually believe it." You scolded now.

And for a moment your eyes locked, even if Eddie had only been joking, you were suddenly willing to take that chance, leaning in until your lips barely touched, grazing as you felt his hitched breath release slightly before pressing your lips to his, your hands cupping his cheeks. You felt his hands slip from your arms to your waist, pulling you in even as you tried to pull away for a moment. A soft frown started to contort your face as your felt tears prickle in your eyes, the autopilot of all this slowly fading and realisation kicking in.

You didn't want this. You felt the pull kick in, you didn't want this moment to end. You never did. You always only became aware of the truth the moment you kissed him.

As you opened your eyes your focus settled on Eddie's hunched frame, carefully painting his figurine.

[thegirlwhofellfromthestars]

still can't stop thinking about kara accidentally referring to hal as "dad", even in a more low-key context and how something that could usually be played for comedy is nothing sort of devastating.

maybe kara's having a bad day - the sort where her chest is tight with frustration, every little minor convenience makes her fingers twitch, the sort where the schoolwork and reminders of the ordinary life she has alongside her life as supergirl is smothering her, all the missed phone calls from the friends who only know her as linda danvers. she's snapped at people throughout the day, blurting out a tired little, "i'm sorry" when they frown or look at her in shock. every little reminder of when her ill temper leaks through the cracks is like a stab to the side. i should be doing better, she thinks to herself, everyone says it's okay, that i'm still only a kid. but i don't want to be just a kid. i turn sixteen in september.

she runs into hal and waits for him to say or do something - anything - that will make that horrid little knot of agitations that's formed in her chest tighten further. but he sees the sting of bitterness to her dark blue eyes, the way she's trying so hard to twitch her lips into a solemn but neutral expression. hal must know and keeps himself at arm's distance; they've both had their fair share of bad days aplenty. he only walks away after giving her a slight nod through the green of the mask he wears, leaving her be.

hal comes back a few minutes later with a small cardboard box of juice and hands it to her. apple juice - her favorite, no pineapple or fruit punch on the label to be found. just plain apple juice. she tears the straw off the back and pushes it through, taking a a sip. the rush of sugar is a balm, even if only a small one. the barest hint of a proper smile stirs upon her visage for the first time in a while today. after a few engrossed sips:

"thanks, dad."

her smile vanishes.

they both stare at each other with the depth of something fathomless - horror, maybe, or some sort of flooding, viscous mess of all sorts of feelings. she remembers for a moment the way her father back on krypton would wordlessly give her comfort on bad days - drape a blanket over her shoulders as she stared out at the openness of dark red sky before departing, ensure she had a small snack even as she sulked alone in her room. and hal...

well, kara remembers he only told her a little bit about his father. but that is enough for her to know.

she takes a deep breath, the smile on her face not quite so genuine this time - moreso some sort of crumpled, uncomfortable mimicry of the real expression. "sorry about that. it just sort of slipped out."

"it's fine. sometimes things like this happen."

"still..." the words coat her mouth, fuzzy under the apple juice she'd been drinking. "thank you for doing that. i've been having kind of a crappy day today, and it helped."

the sting from earlier still persists, hal's face settles into a fixed, solemn look. "no problem," he says. "i'm glad i could help, even just a little."

[purpleprincessonfyre]

For Part 1 click here

For Part 2 click here

OUAT AU Finale - We're Gonna Be Timeless

Characters: Liane St James, Mia Spencer, Ethan Long, Belladonna St James, Cassandra Sean

Other characters: Bruce Banner, Melissa Wallace

IB: Once Upon A Time and Timeless (Taylor's Version) (From the Vault)

A small crowd had gathered around the hospital bed of Liane St James. If you didn't look at the tubes, the gown or the general environment you would assume she was simply asleep. Bella had gone very quiet, Mia was trying to keep her eyes on her clipboard, Cassie had her head in her hands sat to the side and Ethan was at the foot of the bed, a strange aching in his chest.

He liked Liane. He hadn't known her for very long, it had only been a few weeks since his daughter had dragged him to this town, introduced him to her adoptive mother, gotten himself arrested and now he was staring at the unconscious form of someone he had grown to care for. It didn't make a lot of sense but love never did, in his experience.

"This is all my fault, I should have..." Cassie was rambling in the corner, tears slipping down her cheeks. Bella was still deathly silent with her eyes fixed on Liane. Ethan tried to put an arm around Bella for comfort and expected her to recoil at her touch but instead she sidled up into his embrace, wrapping an arm around his waist and burying her head in his flannel shirt.

"We're doing our best to keep her stable but right now, we still can't determine what's actually happened to her. I don't usually say this but Liane's gonna need a miracle if she's going to survive this." Mia said softly, her eyes sad. The room was eerily quiet aside from the beeping of the monitor and muffled sounds from outside the door in the corridor.

Just as Mia was about to leave, Melissa and Bruce came bursting into the ICU, a half eaten pie in their hands. Mia frowned before she recognised the pie from earlier. She managed to stop them from rushing over to Liane's bed, asking them what was going on. Melissa let Bruce catch his breath and started to explain.

"This pie...she ate this before she collapsed. Its not one of Bruce's pies, it wasn't baked in our ovens."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean we baked a pie for Liane but this is not the one we baked. This one is different. Whatever is in this caused her to collapse."

"We checked her blood, she wasn't poisoned or anything, no allergic reaction. It was an apple pie right?"

Melissa nodded. Cass lifted her head hearing that and so did Bella, wiping tears from her face.

"Alexander. He did this. He wanted to hurt my mom."

"That can't be true, I ate that pie."

"How much did you eat?" Cassie questioned, coming back to her senses. Mia sighed, looking at the half eaten pie in confusion.

"I didn't eat much, a couple bites then I got the call to come back to the hospital when they brought the Joshua kid in. But Liane said she was gonna eat that whole thing."

"And you've been fine?"

"Well I had a couple of dizzy spells and I felt slightly fatigued but I'm fine now. Just kind of a headache."

"And Liane ate-"

"She ate the rest."

Bella lifted her head from Ethan's shirt her eyes widened as she reached into her bag and pulled out her storybook.

"The curse, she ate cursed apples and now she can only be awoken by true Love's kiss!" Bella exclaimed showing a page where a woman with dark hair was awoken by a kiss by a man dressed like a Prince. She turned to Ethan, eyes determined.

"You have to break the curse, it's the only way."

"'Bella I-"

"You love my mom, right?"

"Kiddo-"

"You love her. I know you kept your distance because she's my carer and she kept hers for the same reason but I can tell. She loves you."

"I can't kiss an unconscious woman!"

"Why not? It works in the stories!"

"Because this is real life, Belladonna! There aren't cursed fruits, there aren't Big Bad Wolves, there aren't glass slippers, there isn't magic and there isn't True Love's Kiss! And...I can't keep pretending anymore." Ethan trailed off as Bella's eyes narrowed, her chin quivering but all she did was shove the book into his arms.

"Read it. And maybe you'll see the truth. I'm going for some air." She stormed out of the ICU, tears in her eyes as she ran for the doors. Mia sighed and looked at Cassie who seemed to look guilty? Mia looked over Liane's body one last time before heading to check on other patients, patting Liane's hand kindly as she left. Cassie took a seat, looking at Ethan.

"She's right, you know."

"Right about what?"

"All of it. But we've all been too blind to see. I tried telling people when I figured it out but people call you crazy when you question their reality..." Cassie muttered, watching the clock on the wall. She turned to Ethan as she grabbed her bag.

"Just read the book. Listen to your daughter for once. And maybe trust her too. She's smarter than she looks."

As Cassie left, Ethan sat by Liane's bed, the silence almost deafening as he watched the machines help her breathe. He picked up the book and started to read. He recognised the tales from his childhood, stories of princesses in castles and knights on white horses and evil queens in towers.

Then he came across the tale of Sleeping Beauty and saw a face he recognised. A man dressed in armour, his green eyes almost shining off the page, his hair lit by the sunlight and a young woman with long blonde hair down her back, long black curved horns on her head, dressed in purples and blacks, both sat on a horse together, her purple eyes glimmering as they went to kiss.

That was his face! And those eyes despite being purple immediately made him think of Liane. How could he be in this book? This battered book with tales of magic and mystery? Why was he depicted as this Ace of Hearts? Why was Liane The Dark Fairy? And why did he feel like he knew this story more than just reading it off the page?

As he continued to read he started to recognise more and more faces from the town, Mia eating an apple as Snow White, Cole as a mystical magic man called Rumplestiltskin, Alexander as this King of Shadows, the waitress from the diner as Belle, Cassandra as Rapunzel in a high tower, he was starting to see everything more clearly. He looked at Liane and stroked her hair, finally saying what was on his mind.

"I never wanted to be a Dad. When I was a kid I made a choice to never be the reason a kid hates their life, hates their world. I didn't think anyone would ever want to have a kid with me. Then of course, life happened, a life that I really didn't want to bring a kid into but...I was naive. Not naive, dumb, really.. really dumb.

"I did love her, or I thought I did. Bella's mom. But she betrayed me. Ratted me out. I got the clink, she disappeared, and Belladonna was given to a Foster home. I never tried to make contact because I thought she'd hate me. That she'd resent me for not being there, not being her Dad when I absolutely should have been.

"It was cowardly, I know, to run away from my problems like that but I just really didn't think this kid would want anything to do with me. And then she showed up at my door. Like an omen. No not like that but it did certainly scare me. Especially cause she had found me like that. I knew vaguely that she had a home but I never tried to reach out. And then I met you."

Ethan smiled and took Liane's hand, just admiring her face as she lay there.

"You with your firey temper, the way you almost slapped me on your lawn after I arrived that first day, how your stare looked like it would make me burst into flames if I looked directly at it. And it all made sense. Why this girl, my little girl had come all that way to find me. She wanted me to meet you. To...connect with you. Because she loves you so much that she knew even if she could do it alone, she shouldn't.

"You spent years rearing this kid like your own, teaching her self-respect, giving her unerring confidence, letting her speak her mind, allowing her the freedom to express herself however she wants and now she's the best thing ever. I used to think parenthood was like jail.

"Bad comparison I know but I knew what that was. Servitude, solitude, nothing but pushback and obstacles as you try to get your freedom. Living off rations just to keep your kid afloat. Drowning in debt and knowing that you'll be so broken when it's over but accepting it as part of life. But it's not.

"You made me see parenthood is...like a garden. It won't grow if you don't feed and nurture it, it can be hard to tame but it's all the more beautiful when you let it run wild, if you prune too often it becomes too linear, too perfect. But as long as you feed and water it, give it sunshine, attention, love and care it will be so beautiful and become so beneficial to the insects and wildlife.

"Belladonna is not a perfect kid but she's brilliant. She's book smart and street smart which she did not get from me, she's intelligent and thoughtful, she's got the best emotional regulation I have ever seen and she's so glad you are her mom. And I would be honoured to raise her by your side. I've never believed in magic and miracles but if Bella believes it will save your life, then maybe I'll give it a try."

Ethan leaned in towards Liane's face and very carefully kissed her on the cheek, her skin feeling like a soft pillow and the warmth from her face hitting his. Almost instantly a huge spark of power began radiating from where Ethan stood, spreading through the town as Ethan took and step back, his mind suddenly flooding back to him.

Ethan Lensherr, The Ace of Hearts. Champion for Wonderland. His sister, The Mad Hatter. His brother, Rumplestiltskin. His father Erik, The Knave of Hearts. And his beautiful Liane, The love of his life, The Dark Fairy. Had awoken from her slumber.

Liane opened her eyes and looked up to see her beloved Ethan standing by her bed smiling. She pulled off her breathing mask and flung her arms around him in tears, holding him close as she kissed him passionately. She had found him, and he had found her. The doors swung open as Mia, or rather Snow White, came rushing inside with Cassandra at her side and Belladonna.

"Snow?"

"Mal!" The two embraced after Ethan let his wife go, remembering all these people. Cassie also came in for a hug as Belladonna watched, pleased.

"Since when did you get a haircut, Goldie?"

"It wasn't my choice, trust me." Cassie insisted, smiling and laughing. They all stepped back to let Bella through who ran into her mother's arms tearfully, grabbing her tight as they embraced.

"I told you so.. " she whispered in the hug as Liane just laughed and sat up. Then she felt that pain again. The pain where her wings were supposed to be. Snow handed her a staff to help her stand.

"Rumple left it here if you can believe that. Found it in the supply closet of all places."

"Is it still magic? Am I still magic?"

"No one knows yet. But everyone's waking up. Wait- Nikolai!" Snow tugged off her white coat and ran out of the hospital to go and find Charming as the others laughed.

But Liane stayed stoic, remembering at least who caused them all to be stuck here.

"Alexander.."

"Babe don't worry we'll get your wings back."

"Not just my wings. I want him DEAD!" Her eyes flashed bright purple, that fire back in her eyes as she stood up. He was going to pay for his actions. A flame of lavender fire formed in her palm as Ethan caught her arm.

"Where are you going?"

"To kill the Mayor."

Thats a wrap for now folks! It's been fun and it's gotten me to rewatch OUAT so I guess that's a good thing? Thanks to @jackiequick for reigniting my love of fantasy fanfic writing, thank you @gcthvile for always giving my OCs someone to love, and love to my moots @blueboirick @cherrysft @rooster-84 for the support.

Next fanfic series might be a bit more upbeat, a little cheesy and slightly more musical? It will be hinted at in the next post that appears on this page. Hope you've enjoyed!

[quillomens]

Book Omens Week Day 3: Historical

I'm catching up since I thought the week was cancelled. Haha. I THINK I'll have day 4 up today, though! It continues from this one.

Summary: The first time they got married was only a few hundred years after the Garden. It wouldn't be the last.

HERE ON AO3

Over the next few days, watch out for: ancient Sumer! The Round Table! Leo da Vinci! Piracy! Two Very Lazy Immortal Beings! Paperwork!

----

Sixty years and some change after their second unfortunate meeting, Crowley happened upon the angel while prowling a sort of  cave-village puttering along in Mesopotamia.   

He didn’t panic this time.  He’d been sent to the settlement because an angel was there, so he hadn’t been quite so startled this time around.  He also slinked up slowly, watching (and tongue twitching beyond his lips every now and then), which helped his reptile brain report, “This is that Eastern Gate fellow.”   

So instead of panic and discorporation, Crowley was able to slide up, smooth and cool, and say, “How’s it going there, oh, Angel of the Lord?” 

The angel jumped, which was very gratifying.  About time an angel was nervous about him.  

The angel’s currently dark brows drew together before his expression cleared.  “Crawly?” he asked, and then, before Crowley could correct him, “No, it’s Crowley, isn’t it?” 

Crowley was gratified again.  “It is.  And you’re Aziraphale.”  He tried to sound casual.  Maybe he’d asked around.  Maybe he just knew things.   

Aziraphale turned his eyes back to the foul-smelling but good natured mortals as they went about their business.  The two of them were visible, not not…noticeable.  Nothing interesting here, please go on about you pre-historical business.  “It’s been some time.” 

“’Bout 60 years.”  Crowley had spent nine of them doing punishment paperwork and other, less enjoyable, things for so quickly wasting a corporation.  But the last fifty hadn’t been so bad, back on earth.  He was finding Earth highly preferable to hell, and didn’t understand why most demons bellyached about assignments on the first floor (so to speak). “What brings you here?  Spreading a little miracle or three?  Light of grace and all that good stuff?” 

“Observing, mostly.  I’m rather between assignments at the moment.”  The angel glanced over.  “You?” 

“Oh, sent here to kill you, I reckon.” 

One brow rose alone this time.  The gray-blue eyes were a little incongruous with his current coloring, but who was Crowley to point out glass houses?  “Oh?  And how are you planning to do that?  Another epic bout of clumsiness.” 

Crowley probably should have scowled, but found himself grinning instead.  Not bad! Most angels were painfully boring.  ….At that, so were most demons.  “Maybe.  Want to stand near a handy fire for me?”   

The angel made a show of considering it before settling on, “No, I think not.  I don’t need any more paperwork or nasty notes.” 

Crowley would (pretend to) kill for a nasty note.  Bet there were no boils and papercuts in heaven.  

“Ah, well.  Guess I’ll just slink downstairs then.” 

Crowley didn’t move.  They kept standing there, side by side.   

“Did you know,” Aziraphale said after several minutes of oddly comfortable silence, “that they’ve started little pairing ceremonies?” 

Crowley shot him a look.  “What now?” 

“Well, you know how some of the animals pair off for life?  And others don’t?  Humans are similar, yes?  Some pair off, like Adam and Eve, others don’t.” 

“Rrrrright.”  Crowley scratched at a flea trying to set up house in the long fall of his hair.  “Hell’s undecided on that one.  Seems to fit with a sort of heavenly chastity on one side, but the way two people can make each other miserable?  Full marks.” 

The angel gave him a censorious frown.  Crowley spread his hands with demonic innocence, as if to say, “Above my pay grade, good sir.”   

Had the movement been invented and imbued with meaning at the time, Aziraphale would have rolled his eyes.  As it was, he just said, “Well, be that as it may, they’ve created this little ritual for it, and it’s rather sweet.” 

A minor miracle caused every flea in the vicinity to go up in tiny flames.  

“Ritual?  What, skulls and blood and feet of newts?”  Crowley tried to look pleased, though the whole concept actually made him a bit queasy.  He couldn’t shake the feeling that “feather of demon” or “eye of serpent” would one day be popular for these “little rituals” of the humans’.   

“No, no, nothing so disturbing.  Just a sort of speech and a promise.”   

“Oh.”  Crowley wrinkled his nose.  He was fond of a good nose wrinkle these days.  Couldn’t pull that off as a snake.  “Sounds boring.” 

“It’s sweet!” Aziraphale argued.  He looked decidedly put-out, as if the opinion of this semi-random demon was of some importance in his angelic brain.  Then he clearly came to a decision and, without so much as a “Mary may I?” wrapped his hand about Crowley’s wrist and pulled him into the bustle of humanity. 

Crowley should have protested, maybe popped a little hellfire, but he was so surprised by being touched without an intent to cause pain (it had been so long) that he shamedly just let his enemy drag him on.  

They stopped in front of a woman – older, heavy set, stripes on her stomach and gray in her hair.  She wore little in the heat, but she had several necklaces of shell and bone, painted with red clay, that were unique among the humans.  Someone of importance, then?   

She clearly recognized the angel and greeted him with a smile and a fair approximation of his name.   

“Hello,” he said back, his smile warm but his voice officious.  “Lovely to see you again.”   

“It was only this morning,” she said, a sparkle of mischief in her eyes that Crowley wholeheartedly approved of.  “I’m not so old as all that.” 

“Of course not!  You’re a lovely young woman.”  Crowley shot Aziraphale a look.  He thought perhaps the angel was being sincere.  Still figuring out aging, was he?   

The human chuckled warmly. “Now then, young charmer, what do you require my help with?”  

“I would like you to show the pairing ceremony,” Aziraphale motioned to Crowley, “to my,” he stopped a moment, frowning.  Crowley watched with some amusement. My enemy was hardly the way to introduce someone without causing suspicion.  After a beat, he settled on, “companion.” 

The human’s eyebrows rose in a riot of wrinkles.  “The pairing ceremony?” 

“Yes.  I told him it’s quite lovely, but he has his doubts.” 

Dark eyes glanced between them.  “I hardly think it is appropriate to perform the ceremony for someone who isn’t certain.” 

“Oh, I’m certain enough,” Crowley drawled.  Clearly it existed, since they were talking about it. 

The old woman eyed them again, gaze assessing.  Then she raised her shoulders dismissively – he'd seen that a few times now, wasn’t entirely certain what it meant to them – clapped her chapped hands, and said, “Might as well!” in a cheerful voice.  

Aziraphale gave Crowley a smug look.  Crowley stared at him, annoyingly unblinking.   

(Later, Crowley would miss those early days, when his eyes hardly merited comment.  The woman had looked at them, of course, but passed on readily.) 

The woman motioned to a young man, who jogged off to gather a few supplies.  She chatted easily with Aziraphale as they waited, and offered a handful of figs to them both.  Aziraphale took them immediately.  Crowley was more hesitant, but gave in when Aziraphale bit into one with clear enjoyment.   

And here he thought angels didn’t eat. 

They were so delicious (he hadn’t properly had figs; they were sweeter than he  that the boy was painting a stripe of clay on his forehead before he realized they’d started.   

“Wait-” he started to say, but the woman shushed him and Aziraphale sent him a look for interrupting.  He fell silent, listening to the simple words.  The gist was all about support – looking out for the other person, working to keep the other person safe, providing comfort. 

It was lovely, though he was loathe to admit it.  A nice idea, having someone to depend on and spend time with.  He couldn’t remember much about heaven, but hell certainly wasn’t known for its comradery.   Shame it wasn’t real- 

The woman took his hand and placed it on top of the angel’s.   

Crowley jumped as if burned – expecting, really, to be burned, that was the rumor – and saw Aziraphale flinch as well.  But. 

Nothing happened. 

The skin was unusually soft, given angels didn’t work, but beyond that, it was just a hand.   

Their eyes met briefly, yellow to gray. 

“And may you protect each other until the end of your days,” the woman said, taking their two hands in her strong, leathery ones.   

Crowley saw, in Aziraphale’s eyes, the moment the angel realized what he had. 

This was not a demonstration. 

It was a ceremony. 

He couldn’t help it.  Crowley threw his head back and laughed, startling the woman, the demon, and several people in the vicinity with the underlying hiss he hadn’t learned to control yet.  It was an inhuman laugh, and an inhuman smile, and the angel frowned at him, but he couldn’t help it.  It wasn’t real, not truly.  They weren’t human, and human ceremonies didn’t mean anything in heaven or hell, but- 

An angel bound to a demon just to make a point? 

Hilarious! 

Aziraphale sighed deeply, the old woman barked a laugh (“It’s unusual, but some people react like this,” she assured Aziraphale gently as he looked like he might throw up if his corporation would let him), and Crowley grinned, broad and toothy and wild.   

(As long as hell didn’t know, as long as hell never found out, he should be just fine.) 

@book-omens-week

[brattyfrenchvampire]

I’ve started to reminisce about some things that will probably never make it into the books as it’s not relevant to the story as a whole. Besides I don’t foresee the rating going up haha.

Before I had steady companions, that eventually turned into partners, I used to frequent the brothels. I know, I come off as the type to have a preference for men. You would be correct in that assumption, I’m not exactly in the middle of the Kinsey scale. Close to it, but leaning towards homosexual tendencies. There were a few men I had picked up at pubs. They were usually fumbling drunk and not very enjoyable. The men around my age were timid and scared of their desires. The older men…let’s just say there were skill issues and I know their wives were unhappy.

The women I have fallen for, I’ve really fallen for. None of them were the prostitutes, though I had a fondness for them. Society frowned upon them, meanwhile they were providing a very wanted service. I heard and saw some of the things they had to put up with and it made my blood boil. It could be in part because of my own background. But I despise the whole societal hierarchy. These women deserved to be treated like people, not objects. They should have been paid better too. I was pro sex workers then, I’m still pro sex workers now. But I’m getting side tracked…

One of the pluses about prostitutes, they didn’t ask questions about me leaving my gloves on or worse give that look of pity when they’d see all my scars. A handful of them had scars of their own. There were two women that stood out to me, they were my favorites. I never knew their names. As most brothels, names were whatever seemed exotic, “Rose” or “Moonbeam” or whatever. (Actually, I think there were a few that used those exact names in my troupe.) Not that I gave them my name either. Both struggled to have a steady flow of clients. They had a few weirdos that saw them as novelties. Others would be offended to be paired with them. Most didn’t see either of them as people. I’m not some noble person, but I think everyone is deserving of respect. That should be the minimum.

The first woman I was ever with was an amputee. She lost one of her legs in a carriage accident. The infection almost cost her life. Her leg ended at mid-thigh. She had a prosthetic but it was heavy, on bad days she would drag it more than walk with it. She was a nice girl. Close to my age at the time, around 17, and wanted to travel. Though unless she eventually married a rich man, she didn’t have much to look forward to. She wasn’t completely uneducated, but not enough to be an exceptional woman at the time. Her beauty was “flawed” by her leg. She was a bit too fond of the bottle and dabbled with opium. (I should have known then it was like standing in front of a damn mirror.) While I was there for sex initially, we did enjoy each other’s company. There were times that most of our session was spent talking. An escapism. We never ventured too deep into subjects unless it was about our dreams. We could pretend for a while at least that she really could go somewhere and that I had all the time in the world and wasn’t dying. (Not that I let anyone know the last part.) I was probably the closest thing she had to a friend, though I did not deserve that title. After a couple years, I never saw her again. I can only hope life treated her kinder one day and she got her prince charming.

The other woman was intersex, though they used other unkind words to describe her. I would say she closely resembled someone that was AFAB but on T for a few years. She was petite, built straight up and down, and hairy all over. She shaved her facial hair but that’s it. She had strong facial features, dark hair and equally dark eyes. She was gorgeous, though I guess she was deemed too masculine for most of the clientele. Their loss. (You’d think she would be more popular seeing as she was infertile so there was no risk of pregnancy.) She was very adamant that she was a woman but some still called her ‘it’ and a ‘thing.’ She wasn’t much for words and didn’t do kissing. (I do hope that was what she genuinely wanted and not that she felt forced to act a certain way based on how others treated her.) She brought out something in me that I didn’t know I had. Until her I hadn’t thought I could be submissive or that I shouldn’t allow it. (It was rather tame in comparison to what I got up to later. But it was the first time I let someone have some control over me after what had happened in the lab.) I had felt safe. I don’t know if it was because she was heavily scarred as well or I felt a kinship of being something other than what your body projects. While our interactions were only physical, she helped me to trust again. I don’t think I could have pursued my relationships if it wasn’t for her. I was told one day she left the brothel. I can only hope that is what really happened. The madams never talked about the murders, it’s bad for business.

I eventually found myself in a romantic and sexual relationship with both Jeanne and Noé. I had a difficult time allowing myself to be naked in front of either of them. Even after Jeanne saw everything in Gévaudan and Noé assisted in dressing and bathing me a few times when I was ill. They weren’t being paid to deal with my body…compensated for having to look at me or touch me. I was ashamed of my body, the scars, the mark, too many memories attached to it all. I often took off as little clothes as possible while intimate with either of them. Somedays I refused to get undressed at all and just attended to them. It didn’t want to spoil the mood. I didn't want to be seen as a person if I were fully nude, it was easier if I was just objectified. I had to be in a certain headspace.

[angel-deucesimp]

Good night, world.

PREMISE: [Name] [last name] was just an ordinary person. Nothing special nor had any real talent. The only talent they had was in PLANET. A virtual world where people like them go to escape reality.

But what if they met someone in PLANET, who believes the world is a shitty of shittest place. Or should I say, a childhood friend they didn't even knew they were talking to.

CW: Terrible Grammer and probably spelling mistakes 💀

"Hey, [Name]! Wanna hang out after school?" A group of co-workers called out towards to you as today's meeting have just ended. "No thanks, I have some things to do." You apologized with a nervous smile. This disappoints the group before they say their farewells and left.

"I have something, way more important..."

You walked back home.

"This world..."

You entered your house.

"It's nothing but of boring people..."

You get to your room, setting down your bag before sitting in your chair. The only light source in the room was the computer.

"So, that's why..."

You grabbed your headset and placed it on your head, starting it.

"'PLANET' Is my only escape."

_________________________________________

"Ichi!"

Your lively and bright character calls out, running towards a short man with a dark red hat and slanted down eyes. "Ah, hey [User]! Long time no see! What's been keeping ya?" Ichi greets, with the smile that always makes you swoon.

"Ah, y'know. Work and stuff! Nothing important!" You laughed nervously. "And guessing by the way you look. Wanna raid some dungeons?"

"You know it! I need to blow off some steam!" Ichi huffed, quickly summoning his sword. "C'mon, I wanna make sure all those monsters are killed!"

"Gotcha!" You smiled, the two of you running towards the direction of a nearby dungeon.

_________________________________________

After getting some loot and getting lots of EXPS. There was awkward silence that fell upon the two of you.

Quiet.

Quiet

And quiet.

Then Ichi spoke.

"Say, what are you like irl?"

Your avatar stiffen. Taken aback from the question. "Ah... what do you mean?"

"Like, what do you do... on a regular basis?" Ichi explains in more detail as his gaze trailed towards your form. "Like. Anything interesting or something."

You were silent.

You didn't even utter a word before suddenly your logout plush appears in your place.

Ichi eyes widen before he starts hitting himself. "Shitshitshitshit! I messed up for shit!"

_________________________________________

You placed down your headset on the table. A blank and dead expression was written all over your face before you let out a exasperated sigh.

"When did something interesting even happen to me...."

Your mind wanders through your memories, trying to recollect anything exciting or something that can make you even slightly interesting.

"Ah...."

Then you remembered.

Taichirō Arima.

You're childhood best friend.

And...

Your first love.

You remember back in those days, the world around didn't seem to matter. All that matter was Taichirō was there with you.

You had a big time crush on him ever since pre-school, but ever since his... sister passing, he started distancing himself and shutting everyone. You haven't seen him in a long time.

But, how would you even bring this up Ichi?! He probably doesn't even want to hear you rambling about your ex-childhood crush! That's boring.

You lay your head against the wooden table. A frown on your lips as you were ultimately fighting with yourself if you should log back in and tell Ichi either way.

....

"I'm gonna take a break...."

Who knew you're life and everyone else's was going to take a turn.

_______________________________________

It's been almost a month since the pandemic started, monsters from PLANET roaming around, looking for their next meal. But fortunately, most of humankind have adapt to them started killing them before they could get kill.

But bad side was that most have lost their homes, now they're seeking refuge in a safety shelters.

"Ah... this is so..." You let out a sigh after sticking your axe into one the monsters that were trying to kill you. Your stats have raised up, but your mood certainly didn't.

You quickly put down your axe and start looking through the old house, in hopes to find some kind of food or necessities in the old broken down house.

Then you came across a game....

It was a board game, this quickly catches your attention as you reached out and picked it up.

"I remember...." you smiled to yourself as a old memory comes flying back.

_________________________________________

"Wahh! How come you're so good at this Taichirō!" Younger you cried out as the boy in front of you grinned.

"Because, I've been mastering this game for months! No one can get to my level, not even you!" Young Taichirō said, triumphly.

You pouted before you quickly rolled up you sleeves. "One more game! This time, you'll see!"

"Fine! But I'll still beat you!" Taichirō exclaims as the two of you played again.

You laughed and had fun...

_________________________________________

You make your way back to the safety shelter in Wakagi. You walk towards the guards and show your ID before being let in.

As you walk back to your small space, you notice a young high schooler who looked quite familiar.

Wait...

Is that Taichirō's young brother? What was his name.... Asuma?

How come you're just notcing this now? Well, maybe you kept your head low or probably don't pay attention to the environment as much...

You whipped your head the other way, not wanting to be caught gawking. If Taichirō's brother was here.... than that means-

Your heart start beating faster, you lips formed a thin line as you clenched your heart. "No! I can't-" You thought to yourself. "-This isn't even the right time! Besides, his family is probably having a hard time as well..."

After a few minutes, you managed to calm down your heart. Taking a deep breath, you slowly reached into your bag and pulled out your phone, it was almost sunset.

"Maybe... we can rest easy." You muttered under your breath as you slowly close your eyes, in hopes to get some peace...

Then you hear people gasps all around you.

This confuses you, slowly opening you eyes to see what was the commotion about.

But only to meet face to face with a white face, it's black soulless eyes staring at yours.

You let out petrified scream as you quickly got up and tried to run, but to see the walls and floors cover in the same colorless face.

"What the hell-" you cursed under you breath, your gaze looking all around as the walls started to glitch. It's as if the world itself was slowly crumbling down.

You quickly pulled out your axe, ready to fend off this mysterious entity. But the something caught your eye.

Taichirō running out of the building in a hurry. You furrowed your brows, wondering what the hell Taichirō is thinking.

But...

You run after hum.

_________________________________________

"Taichiro! Taichiro!" You yelled out through the crumbles of the city, trying to look for the guy. You were panicking to say at least, the world is practically crumbling and Taichirō is here running around.

You gritted you teeth, ready to find him and give the scolding of his life.

But after running around, you came across a school, the gate broken down into shreds as of someone used something to tear it down.

You slowly took a step closer, ready to whatever you were going to face.

But then...

You heard... crying?

You peeked around the corner, your eyes slightly widen as you see Taichiro...

But there was also something else...

"...Ichi?"

Taichirō turns on his heels, staring back at you with the same wide eyes while the boy next to him in the ground continue to sob.

Taichirō's mouth was slightly agape as he took a step closer to you...

"....[User]?"

You quickly held in your tears as you quickly ran towards him and hugged him as tight as you can. All this time, Ichi, the man that you felled in love with, that helped you through dungeons....

Was the same man that was your childhood best friend and crush...

_________________________________________

YEAH, IM MAKING THIS TYPE OF SHIT NOW 🤯🤯🤯🤯

Anyways, I've been getting into Good night world and I REALLY LOVE IT :3 I love me some shut in men (That's a joke 😞😞😞)

[midmare]

@srpentress ( minerva ) said: “ fools will be fools. ”

of all the crime sorciere members to be partnered with on a hunt, minerva orland was by far the least maddening of those who were not formerly oracion seis. macbeth might even go as far as to think that the sorceress was the best person he could have been stuck with, given that he must tolerate the assistance of someone outside his past, bereft social circle. it’s good to make new friends, or so he’d been told. ‘friend’ was not the epithet he would use though, & what made minerva warrant the alternative denomination was that she likely shared the bleak sentiment. they were not friends, rather, like - minded individuals who abhorred the notion of maudlin camaraderie that was so often peddled as if gospel. moreover, as he’d quickly discovered, minerva was efficient & practical, there was no dissent over methods used to smoke out the targeted dark guild.

he may have agreed to be on his best behavior, retire bygone ways of darkened morals, wicked souls, but it was not so easily done — to abandon the teachings once beaten into feeble, malleable bodies, aching bones & faded bruises spelling out his curriculum. don’t show weakness nor mercy, fear as a fundamental principle, to lose was to die was to disgrace. he hadn’t felt an ounce of apology when he had a dark mage cornered by his lonesome, then impressed upon the unfortunate man enough dread to pry open a clenched jaw. “ tell us where your hideout is, or . . .” & the man did. macbeth had wondered if his partner would stop him, or cast silent disapproval his way, etc, but they ended up leaving the wretched man comatose for the rune knights to find without batting an eyelash, as if it were second nature.

when the two mages arrived, they entered on little ceremony, such was his pride, the arrogance that bled from his every pore. the dark guild’s hideout was damp & drafty, made up of brick, cobblestone, the blood of whoever crawled into the walls to rot. macbeth wrinkled his nose. hollow crimson eyes scanned the hall, deserted of the dark mages they were seeking out, but with vestiges of daily life scattered about the room. an open book, a pitcher of ice water, plates of steaming food — people had been here recently, but disappeared somewhere in a hurry. plum - stained lips curled into a smirk ; an ambush, then.

they were surrounded in an instant, hostile figures emerging from the shadows of pillars & secluded alcoves all at once. “ fools, you say? i’d use the term pests, ” his response to minerva’s remark was for their opponents to hear, the slow drawl dripping with a pronounced boredom, “ it’s amusing that they think this will save them. ” his level voice carried through the hall despite the lack of pitch. macbeth caught minerva’s eye & smiled, an insidious little tilt of black lips, before he raised his hand. “ this could be fun. ” the two had never fought back to back before, but the reflector mage wasn’t worried. giving the sorceress a wide berth, & he focused on his own spell - casting. minerva had been correct to christen their opponents’ fools, even with numbers on their side, they struggled in vain to hold their own.

“ mmm . . . not bad. you’re not boring, after all. ” crimson gaze swept over the scene of carnage in the aftermath with a satisfied glint. blood & terror clung to the musky air, a sea of motionless bodies blanketing cold stone floors. plum - colored lips dipped into a small frown, a pensive expression contorting sharp features. “ you didn’t kill them, did you? ” there was no sympathy to be found in the way he spoke, only a hint of concern. jellal would lecture him to sleep. macbeth nudged the body nearest to them with the toe of their boot, eliciting an unconscious grunt. “ you should have run when you had the chance. foolish. ” 

[violetswritingg]

Only in Darkness

Jason Todd X OFC!

Description:

"Only in Darkness can you see the stars."

Or

Marlowe Knight stumbling upon a girl prophesied to end the world and going on the adventure of a life time.

Rating: M (Blood, cannon typical violence, sibling rivalry, scars, torture, trauma, angsttttt)

Want to read the other chapters?

Click here

7

Interstate 80 motel

2018

The tension in the air was palatable, Rachel watching Marlowe walk across their room and lean her carrier on the wall like she had before. Looking away quickly when the older girl caught her staring.

"Take a picture, it lasts longer." Marlowe quipped, her tone and expression neutral as she moved to sit on her bed. Eyes falling to her duffle bags zipper and narrowing slightly before moving to Rachel and then her case on the table past the girl and then back.

Rachel didn't answer, just got up and walked through the adjoining door. Marlowe quick to follow, watching from the doorway as she messed with Dick's case, unable to open it. Moving on to another case, this one smaller and already open. Marlowe recognized it instantly as Wayne tech. Much like her own laptop in the middle of her duffle bag.

Rachel sat, starting to type something while Marlowe stood in front of Dick's case, running her fingers over the top. A small smile coming across her face, getting Rachel's attention. The girl watching Marlowe closely.

Marlowe shot Rachel a look out of the corner of her eye, feeling the teens eyes on her and leaving Dick's case alone. Instead plopping down on the foot of the bed closest to Rachel, leaning back on her hands and fixing the girl with a watchful gaze.

"What's in there?" Rachel pointed to the case on the table. Marlowe just raised an eyebrow, her face reading, you expect me to answer that? The girl sighed and looked back to the computer. Silence enveloping them for a while.

"You're scared of me."

"You're scared."

"No, I'm not." Marlowe shifted on the bed.

"You're lying."

"When you do what we do, there's no time to be scared. Either push past it or suffocate. It's up to you. Come find me when you're ready." Bruce turned on his heel, his shoes clicking tauntingly with every step, getting softer and softer. A promise of something getting farther and farther away. Slipping right through her fingers.

Not again.

Marlowe huffed, pulling a knee into her chest, "Yeah? And how do you know?" Rachel stayed quiet, "I've seen a lot of weird, messed up things Rachel, you don't even crack the top ten."

Lie.

"I'm ready. I'm not scared." Marlowe grit, stiffening her spine and standing straighter than she ever had. Bruce didn't even turn fully, barley glancing over his shoulder.

"You should be."

Another silence overtook the room Marlowe the one to break it this time. "Back in Detroit... you called me the girl with the golden staff. Why?"

"I saw it." Rachel turned, her eyes pleading with the girl in front of her. For what? Neither of them really knew. Marlowe stiffened, her whole body going rigid.

"You saw it." Marlowe's voice barley carried over the air. Rachel went back into her shell again, avoiding admitting anything by pretending she just hadn't heard Marlowe. She had said too much, instant regret weighting on her shoulders. Marlowe frowned, her hand clenching as she stood from the bed and walked over to Rachel, staying at least a foot away just in case. "How."

"There was a man, he was dressed weird. You were... younger, your hair was different, you were tied to a chair, crying. I could feel how scared and confused you were, you thought it was some kind of bad dream, but then he touched you right there-" Rachel, after some hesitation, started to answer. Reaching for Marlowe's side as if on instinct. The older girl dodged, faltering back a step, eyes wide, palms starting to sweat. Rachel dropped her hand and hesitantly glanced up at Marlowe, "and you screamed. Everything burned, I could feel your pain. Every night."

"Stop." Marlowe forced out around the lump in her throat.

"There was another man with a long coat and goggles, he hurt him too. There was a bright light and he was on the ground, you standing over him with a golden Staff-"

"I said stop Rachel!" Marlowe snapped, Rachel shrinking slightly under the burning heat in Marlowe's eyes. Marlowe's insides tearing themselves into little pieces as memories threatened her vision. "I don't care what you think you saw. You know nothing about me or my life, don't act like you do." Marlowe quickly composed herself, her voice quiet but authoritative and Rachel knew better than to push any further.

Marlowe paced over to the window and looked out across the parking lot, schooling her expression as she peeled the curtains away from the slightly foggy glass panes. Her whole body felt like the earth was trying to drag her into its depth.

It was clear she was done talking, but Rachel still had so many questions.

So, she googled Marlowe's name.

They both jumped when musicblasted from Marlowe's back pocket. The older girl cursing and fumbling for the phone and turning it down, Rachel trying and failing to catch a glimpse of the screen.

"Are you gonna answer it?"

Marlowe paused, listening to the dulled song ring, her chest aching. Taking a breath the bottle blonde hit the red button on the screen, tucking the device into her back pocket and glancing at the girl across from her.

"Spam call." Marlowe couldn't stand the look Rachel was giving her, the soft slope of the teens eyebrows and the knowing glint in her eye setting Marlowe on fire. "I'm gonna head outside for a minute, don't go anywhere," Marlowe pointed at Rachel. Stopping on her way out the door the older girl tapped the doorway, "Lock this."

~~*~~

The girl reached up and hit the door bell, looking over her shoulder one last time. Her mother gone. Just as she was about to back track and call out for her mom, the door opened with a quiet creak. A woman, not young, but not old, with fiery red hair and bright green eyes stood with a confused smile. Subtly looking around the street before crouching down to the girl's height, her smile broadening.

"Hello there. You look a little young to be selling girl scout cookies."

Marlowe stayed silent, looking at the woman with wide eyes, unsure of what to do. The woman seemed to understand what was happening in her little head and sighed. Holding out a hand for the girl to shake the redhead introduced herself.

"I'm Sadie, what's your name sweetie?"

"You're not my dad." She didn't know what her dad looked like exactly, but she knew what a man looked like, the person in front of her wasn't a man and therefore a complete stranger.

"Are you trying to get home? Did you get lost?" Sadie couldn't believe any parent would let such a young child walk home by themselves, the girl in front of her barely six years old at the oldest.

"My mommy said my daddy and brother lived here." Sadie's eyes widened and looked up and down the street again.

"Where's your mommy? Huh?"

"I-I don't know, she was right there. But she's gone now, doing adult things. She-she said I couldn't come." Sadie recognized the lip tremble and the flood of water, but hesitated in her next action. This wasn't her child, she didn't even know the girl's name, but when the waterworks came, they didn't stop and the girl closed the gap and initiated a death grip hug. Sadie looked up, Jack now at the door, watching in confusion as his fiancée hugged a small, crying child at their door.

Sadie pushed the girl away slightly, helping her calm down. Subtly looking between Jack and the girl in her arms, hair as black as a light polluted night sky, eyes as blue as the Atlantic Ocean, the same nose, and slant of their eyebrows.

Sadie felt her stomach drop, her throat closing up as she picked up the girl who had still yet to tell her her name. Her pale hand rubbing up and down the girl's small back but wanting to clench into a fist and dive straight into Jack's confused face.

"What did you do?" Sadie whispered, the girl slowly nodding off in her arms after a traumatic afternoon. Not giving the man the opportunity, she passed him and strode down the hallway to Kyle's room. Shushing the boy as he protested the intrusion and kicking him off of his bed to lay the girl down, covering her with the blanket, pulling it up to her chin.

"Who-"

"A guest, for now. Come on, lunch is almost ready." Sadie pulled Kyle out of his room, the curious boy fighting to catch one last glimpse of the girl commandeering his bed.

~~*~~

The first memory Marlowe had of Sadie wasn't a particularly pleasant one. The woman raised her, Sadie was her mom for all intents and purposes and Marlowe wouldn't have it any other way. Sarah, Marlowe's birth mother, had just dropped her off on her dad's doorstep, and the red head was the one who answered the door.

Marlowe was a black mark on Sadie and Jack's love, the woman had every right to hate her. But she didn't, she took her in, treated her like one of her own. Loved her like a mother should love their daughter, not to say that Sarah didn't love Marlowe in her own way.

Sadie held her when Sarah reemerged and blew through the Knight household like a hurricane when Marlowe was fifteen, stealing a good amount of Marlowe's jewelry and a couple of her medals. Disappearing again as if she had never been there in the first place. Sadie held her when the news of Sarah's death by overdose came through the grapevine.

Sadie was the one who kept telling her that it wasn't her fault, that Sarah was the only one who could be held responsible for her own death. They never got back her medals.

This woman, her mom, had always been there. Come rain or shine, she was there like an indestructible, immovable pillar. The years not dulling her sharp tongue and blunt honesty, the woman completely unafraid to tell you how it is. Her smiling contact picture burned Marlowe's irises, glaring up at Marlowe. Warm eyes watching her, saying you feel guilty? Good. You should.

Sadie hadn't called her up to this point. Giving her space, because the woman knew how Marlowe – much like her dad – worked. She would come to them when she was ready.

Something could be wrong. Anxiety swept through Marlowe as she bit her lip, a million horrible scenarios rushing through her imagination without permission and caused her heart to pound almost out of her chest. He could have gone back-

Her thumb was hitting the contact on the screen before she could think about it for more than a second. Marlowe feeling as if she was having an out of body experience as the ringing reverberated around her skull. Alarms screeching like chickens at the slaughter.

Marlowe could hear the lilt of disappointment in Sadie's voice already and the woman hadn't even answered the phone yet. Teeth bit into her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as everything started to spin. 

The phone rang one more time, the click of the line connecting to the intended person had her panic spike and, like a reflex, Marlowe ripped the phone away from her ear just as Sadie's voice came through the speaker. The muffled voice sending painful sparks through Marlowe's chest.

Marlowe gasped, not knowing she had been holding her breathe until that moment. Her thumb smashing the red button on the screen as hard as it could. Coughing Marlowe clung to the railing and leaned back on her heels. Putting her head in between her shoulders as she tried to start breathing normally once again.

She didn't realize how much she had missed hearing Sadie's, her mom's, voice.

Her nose violently tingled, her eyes stinging with the same ferocity. Tears dripping onto her boots without permission as she brought a hand to her mouth. Crouching down, leaning her forehead against the cool metal, her grip on the railing never letting up and cutting into her skin with a bite.

A muffled yell and thump being heard from inside the room startled Marlowe. The lights along the walkway flickering as the nineteen year old stood shakily and tried the handle, it wouldn't move. She had forgotten to grab the keys and Rachel had actually listened to her and locked the door – which was unexpected.

Grabbing her wallet from her jacket pocket, sniffling and scrubbing her face free of salty water, she pulled out a random gift card and shoved it in the door. Right between the lock and the door jam. Leaning into the plastic and jerking it up, just like Jason had taught her. Marlowe felt it push past the lock and cheered quietly. Not prepared for what lied behind the door.

~~*~~

Dick didn't know what to make of Marlowe.

His brain stewing over the erratic, wild shifts he had seen in her in just the last twenty-four hours. She was a hurricane and it seemed to only be getting worse. Sometimes she would remind him of the man he knew as a child, in the ways she moved or spoke, but then she'd flip on a dime.

Her comment about powered individuals sticking with him more than he would have liked it to. He could guess pretty easily she was talking about.

Kyle.

It was the obvious conclusion as he was her brother and the closest person to her that had abilities. Destructive abilities. The thing that he couldn't figure out was why she would say what she said about him.

It's never worked out well.

With both her and Rachel Dick's head was filled with more questions than answers. He hated it.

Jack had sounded cagey on the phone but Dick just chalked it up to him being a worried parent, but now he wasn't so sure.

"I didn't know you had a daughter." Dick started off, voice a bit choppy. He hadn't spoken to the man in years, and now he was calling and digging into his personal life. It was more than a bit uncomfortable. For both sides.

"You've met Marlowe?" Jack coughed, stilted voice filled with hope that confused Dick, "How is she? Is she okay?"

"I don't know, I haven't had the pleasure of meeting her in person. I am getting used to seeing her messy crime scenes though."

"What?"

"I'm in Detroit, some evidence has come up in a case I'm working that connects to her," Dick explained bluntly, "I wanted to see if you could give me any information." Dick rocked back on his heels, watching the cars roll by the front of the precinct.

"Case? I didn't know you were still in the game. In Michigan no less."

"I'm not, in the game. Not anymore. I'm a detective with the police department and Marlowe has run into some serious trouble. Why is she here and not in Opal with you and the O'Dares?"

The man on the other end of the phone took his time in answering, making Dick call his name to make sure he was still on the line before he spoke up.

"The Mist. She's there because of The Mist."

From there he went on to explain that there was a new, third iteration of the golden age big bad the original Starman faced off with frequently. Similar to Batman and the Joker. How Marlowe had taken off months ago to chase the bad guy that had taken over the mantle.

According to Jack The Mist had been around for almost a year and a half, and Dick could pick up on the context clues leading to how he was the reason why Jack was now retired. The heaviness in the man's tone made the hair on the back of Dick's neck stand on edge and his stomach turn.

When he asked about Kyle, why he wasn't the one handling the Cosmic Staff, Jack just brushed him off with a non-answer. Dick didn't want to dig any further, expecting the worst. Dick hadn't known the boy too well; in fact, he - and Roy - really only saw him as a nuisance when he would show up at the manor during League meetings.

Donna and Wally on the other hand were more patient with the, then, ten year old. They indulged him when he'd talk about becoming the next Starman or bragged about his dad and they'd play action figures with him on the floor of Dick's bed room.

One of the most vivid memories Dick had of the boy is when he got too excited one time and lost control of his powers. Multiple floorboards, the corner of his bed, and desk victims to the boys disintegration and haphazard redesign. He remembered getting so angry, yelling at the boy until he started to cry.

Looking back, Dick wasn't proud of it, but he was a kid. An angry one at that. If it wasn't that moment with Kyle, he'd have found something or someone else to explode on.

Dick was forced to apologize, and Kyle didn't come to meetings as frequently after that. Then Jack just pulled out of the League one day and Dick saw a lot less of the man and his son.

His phone ringing pulled him from his memories and questions of who the Mist could be, what he had done to Marlowe and Jack, and what had happened to Kyle Knight.

"Grayson."

~~*~~

[fademirrored]

gamma: Inquisitor

“Can we get back to business, or should I fetch you a bucket to finish drooling in?”

Petrichor “Petra” Lavellan Herald of Andraste. Inquisitor.

Nonbinary. They/them. Pansexual. 17 Haring, 9:14 Dragon. Free Marches. Warrior; double-handed. Reaver.

Eyes: Very bright, almost neon aqua, initially. Large. Darken and go red around the outer iris after they specialize. Hair: Deep, dark red. Shaved around the sides and back. What’s left comes down past the middle of their back, and is done in a multitude of small braids which are gathered back in a tail. Skin: Gold-ish bronze-ish. Freckles easily during the summer. Height: 5'6". Build: Deceptively lanky and lean, but very sinewy. Very compact muscle. Flexible. Does not look like they should be able to heft the sword they use. Notable Details: Complex Elgar'nan vallaslin in black. Nick near the tip of their left ear. Several earrings in both ears, though none of them ever match. Nails become claws once they’re a Reaver, canine teeth get sharper and longer. Get more physically durable. Voice: This specific dragon.

Positives: Protective; as antisocial as they can come across, there are people they’re close to, and they’re going to do what they can to make sure those people stay as safe as can reasonably be expected. Durable, mentally and physically; they’re going to run into a lot of shit in their life, they’re aware of it, and they aren’t overly concerned about it or its lasting impact on them. Difficult to offend, beyond generally being unimpressed; being insulted isn’t going to ruin their entire day and they aren’t going to throw some sort of tantrum about it. Fair-ish; they’ll have their own preconceived ideas, obviously, but in general if they decide they don’t like someone it’s for a specific reason, rather than on a whim. Good at compartmentalizing, even if they don’t always actually do that; they can actually be diplomatic when the time calls for it, they’re just going to grind their teeth and develop an eye twitch. Negatives: Avoidant, of people and confrontation; they don’t dread confrontation, but it seems like way more of a hassle than it’s worth, and a lot of the time they don’t really want to deal with other people. Irritable and impatient, and prone to snapping because of it; from the moment they wake up in a prison cell they are in a different world that it seems like no one else has ever paid attention to, and they get sick of constantly needing to explain themself quickly. Bad at second chances; ‘fool me once’ is bad enough and they aren’t keen on letting it get to ‘fool me twice’ unless they’re suitably convinced. Impulsive; while they’re not impossible to reason with when they get an idea in their head, that does rather hinge upon someone getting a hold of them before they act on the idea. Selectively insensitive, mostly on purpose; if someone is going to have a problem with them, they don’t really see it as a hardship to give them a reason to have a problem, so they selectively erase ‘tact’ from their vocabulary when it suits them. Neutrals: Ambivert. Very talkative, but most of what they say is sarcastic, snarky, unimpressed, deadpan, or some combination. Surprisingly good with kids. Not overly sentimental, but doesn’t frown on sentimentality. Optimist vs. Pessimist: Cautiously pessimistic. Quirks: Does not like being confined in small spaces. Will carry on one-sided conversations with their dog. Once they become a reaver and can tank more damage, they can and do escape unwanted conversations by just vaulting over ledges around Skyhold. Prone to disappearing without warning and popping up with equally little warning. Would much prefer to be outside than inside.

Religion: Believes in the Creators. Likes: Vastly prefers animals to people. Fresh air. Being outside, and especially in the woods. Dragons. New stories. Venison. Fruit. Sweet wines, especially when they’re made from something more unusual than grapes. Dislikes: Templars. The Chantry. The Circle. Most people who are too loudly in favor of any of those. A little iffy on a lot of humans, but they’ll take them on a case-by-case basis. Being the center of attention. Being treated like an idiot. When people can’t take a hint about them wanting to be left alone. Cities. Favorite Colors: Sky blue. Hunter green. Golden brown. Hobbies: Hunting. Exploring. Riding. Sparring. Dog training. Judging the impracticalities of Skyhold and the people therein.

Family: Clan Lavellan. Younger brother is the clan’s First. Steed: Revas, a literal moose. Other Critters: Mi'durgen, high content wolf/mabari cross; worryingly clever. Romance: Josie. Friends: Dorian. Cole. Blackwall. Note: Mutual respect with Cassandra, but they didn’t actually like each other that much; worked well together regardless. Initially got on well with Sera and Solas, but those relationships deteriorated as time passed. *everything in this section can of course be tweaked or disregarded entirely for specific threads, if you’d rather.

[adversitybloomed]

          mulan grinned at her friend, dark brown eyes sparkling with pure amusement. she was glad that the two of them had gotten along as well as they had, for mulan had zero intentions of being on kagome’s bad side.      ❝  it happens every blue moon or so ━━ we should check for that tonight.  ❞    her tone was light as wiggled her brows along with the joke.

          wincing a little, she made a little tsk sound, though truthfully the gentle pat did not hurt too bad. but that did not stop her from playing the part of a pained patient, and the dramatics helped to distract her from the fact a demon had gotten the better of her for a single moment in a fight.

        ❝  are you sure that you do not mean that we cause those said fires ?  ❞    leaning back against the table top, her position was far less formal, as a soft laugh escaped her lips. she could tell her friend was either in denial or embarrassed by her observation, though truthfully she was only just starting to understand these feelings herself. it was hard to admit to the strange feelings, especially when there was uncertainty on whether or not they were returned.     ❝  這麼固執 ( Zhème gùzhí - So stubborn ),  ❞    she teased under her breath before she realized that kagome had turned the tables on her.

          she could feel her cheeks heat, a slight color tinting her pale tones as she glanced away for a moment to collect herself and her thought,        ❝  𝑲𝒂𝒈𝒔 ━━ i ━━ i am not sure what you are trying to imply.  ❞    puffing her cheeks for a moment, she dared a glance over in her direction.       ❝  wait, do you think he likes me more than that of a friend ? i just thought he was just being nice as he is the type who spoils his friends.  ❞   

          shifting herself, she scooted a little closer to her with a slight frown upon her lips,      ❝  i am.... confused. what does likeing someone entail ? how can one know that they have such feelings for someone ? because truthfully, my feelings towards 𝑺𝒊𝒛𝒉𝒖𝒊 confuse me. i cannot seem to stop thinking about him and whether he is near me or not, just the thought alone sets my heart racing  ━━ i have wondered if it is because of my diet, but it is has not changed since meeting him, save for the fact i have eaten more.... ❞   

          she trusted kagome with her life and thought of her as a chosen sister. as such, she could be trusted enough to be asked to help navigate the feelings that her heart tried to convey.     ❝  we are, 𝑲𝒂𝒈𝒔.  ❞    lifting her hand she poked at her leg,     ❝  that reminds me though, i had a special dagger made for you. it is of jade, which can help enhance your purifying aura.  ❞   

「巫女」:: The miko grinned a little and nodded.::

. "Pretty much, yea. That's exactly what I'm saying. You catch on quick!"

. ::She chuckled, keeping in tune with the teasing air, but of course, seeing through to the truth of the matter as well.::

. "And if you could remember it, that'd be great."

. ::She added, her grin coming back to a slight smirk, as she patted the area on her friend that she'd been working on. Gently, before falling to a sitting position beside her, and looping her arms loosely over her knees; exhibiting a relaxed appearance, as La-chan agreed that she was stubborn by comparing her stubbornness to herself.::

. "That is a fair assessment, I think. Must be part of why we get on like a house on fire, ne? Hehe.

. "As for expressing your feelings--you do it well enough, in your own way. Just because you aren't a completely open book with them--doesn't mean I express them any better than you do. One just needs to know what to look for in you to see."

. ::The smirk became an encouraging smile. and she softly elbowed the other girl, as a further light indication of her encouragement. And then the miko made a subdued clearing of her throat sound--and turned a petal pink herself with Mulan's appraisal of the hanyou's feelings.::

. "Yeah....well... achem...Anyway!"

. ::She then looked back sideways at her friend as she pinked up too, and her smirk was back-but this time it was a tad on the mischievous side.::

. "Just a friend, huh? You sure about that, La-chan? He sounds like he's a whole lot more than that! Especially since he's having intricate pearl jewelry pieces made specifically for you. From a private collection no less~! I'd say definitely more than a friend there."

. ::The girl giggled a little, and leaned in closer to the arm wrap, her own arm slinging lightly around her too, taking in and enjoying the comradery, friendship, and chosen sisterhood they shared, especially as Mulan said that final piece.::

. "Same with yours, La-chan. We're just a couple peas in a pod!"

[shadowynn]

| in love and lore | two |

pairing: ateez x fem reader

genre: fantasy/daemon/soulmate au

warnings: none really for this part, but overarching yandere behavior

summary: the daemon king and his seven black generals. names and faces of these eight had changed over the years as each new king was crowned, but their reputation as the most powerful daemons always remained the same. upon hearing the rumors one of the seven led the charge of the nearby battle, you should have stayed close to the encampment. you should have never wandered out on your own. but you did, and your life would never be the same again. good or bad, you would just have to wait to find out.

“There’s no need to be afraid, angel.” His words were a breath against the side of your neck. “You’ve done so much for us, let your king now return the favor.”

wordcount: 6.2k

a/n: i made very minor changes in the preview to update it, but none of them are significant enough to really warrant rereading, so you're good to just continue on here. thanks to all the love you showed on the preview, it gave me lots of inspiration to keep writing this story as well as give me the courage to put it out there for people other than myself to read. :)

| one | two | three |

~

You awoke with a start, hands clasping at your throat. The ghost of his fangs sinking into the juncture between your neck and shoulder haunted you, followed by the rush of fire that had flooded your veins as they made impact. The flames had burned their way through your body, so terribly hot that you had thought you were actually burning from the inside out. And as the fire centered around your core, you had thought for sure you were dying, the searing heat threatening to consume you whole.

And then everything had gone dark.

Your eyes snapped open, breath heavy as the events replayed in your now conscious mind. You only managed to keep them open for a brief second, the midmorning sunlight that bathed your body nearly blinding you, and you were forced to close them until you managed to shield them. To your surprise, you found yourself back in the cot you had left the night before, directly inside the encampment’s infirmary. The blanket that had covered you was now tangled around your legs and damp with the sweat that coated your body.

The memory of the night before weighed heavily on your mind, and the familiar setting did little to calm your racing heart. The sharp sting of his fangs piercing your skin was still fresh, but when your fingers prodded against the spot he had bit, no sign of any wound appeared. The skin was smooth and unblemished, which was only unusual only in the fact you held no memory of healing it. In fact, you had little memory of anything that had happened after that moment, let alone how you ended up here. While you had a fairly solid grasp on the events that had occurred, everything had become slightly hazy in your mind, making you wonder if it had really happened or had just been a hyper realistic dream.

“y/n, what are you still doing in bed?”

You were brought back to reality at the voice calling out to you, but in your still groggy haze, you did little more than stare dumbly at the man now frowning at you from above your cot. It took a few seconds for you to recognize him as your superior, Suho. Whether it had all been a dream or not, you found yourself struggling to focus on the current events.

“What the hell happened to you?” Suho’s gaze lightened when he saw the state you were in. “You look awful, n/n.”

“I feel awful,” you replied, rubbing at the headache throbbing at your temples.

It wasn’t just your head. As you slowly became more aware of your surroundings, you began to become more aware of your current state as well. You felt shaky and unstable. Your head was pounding, and there was a strange sort of tightness inside your chest, directly between your breasts. This one wasn’t quite painful, more so just uncomfortable. It left you with a sort of emptiness, as though the fire that had raged through your body the night before had burned a very part of you away, leaving you hollow. You did your best to try and shake it off, but it was like an itch you couldn't scratch and strayed at the forefront of your mind.

“I wish I could say you could sleep it off, but we’re already in over our heads out here. Stock is running low and you’re the only one out here that can replenish it.” Suho’s gaze was sympathetic as he assessed you. “I’ll go see if we have any pep-up potions left while you get ready. Maybe that’ll help.”

You nodded, mumbling your gratitude as you did your best to detangle yourself from your blanket. As much as you wanted to roll over and sleep it off, you knew Suho was right. There wasn’t any time for that.

It took a few seconds for you to steady yourself, head rolling when you clambered to your feet. Once you were steady, you made your way over to the privacy screens to change your clothes and get ready for work. As you went, you did your best to sort out the events that had occurred, once again pondering the idea it had all been a dream. But as much as you wished it was just some crazy, fever dream, fueled by the rumors of the Black General you had heard from the soldiers, you knew that was just wishful thinking. The events may have grown hazy and half-forgotten, but the parts you did remember felt too real and poignant in your mind. You had been certain he was going to kill you, and yet, here you were. Not only still alive, but safely back at the encampment too. What he might have done to you or how you ended up back here was a complete mystery. And while a part of you was curious, you had no major inclination to figuring it out. After your brush with one of the Seven, you had a deep, burning desire to stay as far away from him and the other daemons as possible.

But even if you did want to figure it out, you didn’t have the time or the resources. Suho was right when he said the two of you were in over your heads in work. The pull out of Binna only added to the work you had on your plate already. Stocks needed to be gone through, supplies needed to be replenished, and soldiers still needed attended to. The majority of each of these falling on to you. As terrified and confused as you were at the moment, you simply didn’t have the time or energy to sit and figure it all out. You were at a loss when it came to what had happened to you - because something had definitely happened - but there was nothing you could do about it now. At least nothing that wouldn’t get you in more trouble than you already were. If word about what you had done last night got out, you would be dead without a second thought. The humans were already growing suspicious of your actions, the only thing keeping you safe was their obliviousness to the fact you were no longer partial to whom you saved. The best course of action would be to act like nothing had happened and just pray nothing else would come to you because of it.

And while the situation already left you feeling stressed and anxious, it was nothing compared to the following revelation you made as you changed.

You almost didn’t notice it at first.

In your rush to change your clothes, you hadn’t noticed the trace of gold lining your abdomen until you were fastening the clasp of your pants. Thinking it nothing more than a trace of sunlight peeking through one of the cracks, you paid it little mind as you made to grab your shirt, barely catching the way the gold followed your movements out of the corner of your eye. Confused, you tilted your head to get a closer look, running your fingers against your stomach, finally noticing the way it traced upwards along your chest.

The trace of gold was fashioned into the outline of a sword, the pommel starting at the top of your chest with the tip of the blade resting just above your belly button. The guard was composed of a pair of golden wings, outstretched just below your breasts with a crooked crown hanging around the hilt.

Any sort of peace you might have found that morning left as you quickly pieced the pattern together. The fear that had haunted you the night before returning in full force as you matched the symbol now etched upon your chest to the symbol of the daemon king himself.

You struggled to maintain your footing, having to grab hold of the bench beside you to keep yourself from falling as your brain attempted to process the situation. If you had thought you were in trouble before, it was nothing compared to the state you found yourself in now.

What had they done to you?

Your mind scrambled over the conversation you had with the Black General, trying hard to piece back together what he had said to you in the hopes of figuring out what he had done to you. He had asked what was to be done with you, mentioning something along the lines of wanting to return the favor of saving his life, but what sort of gratitude was a bit to the neck and a mark of the enemy? You had saved their men, saved one of the generals against your better judgment, and in return, they had all but branded you as a traitor to your own people. He had said he wanted to know who you were so they could keep you safe, but how the hell was this mark supposed to keep you safe? If anyone saw the symbol on your chest, you would be hanged in the gallows without a second thought.

It had to have all been a lie. Every promise of showing you no harm and keeping you safe had to have been nothing more than a gentle lie to lull you in and convince you to save him. They hadn’t really intended to do either of those things. They had just wanted to make sure you were someone on the enemy’s side to make sure you wouldn’t talk. The humans would be curious if you started spouting any of the information you had unwillingly obtained in the night, and if the mark didn’t seal your fate for you, the knowledge you had saved one of the Seven would.

“y/n, I laid the potion with the restock lists on your bed. Just go ahead and start brewing when you get out. I’ll take care of the rest for now.”

Once again Suho startled you from your thoughts, giving a slight knock on the screen beside you to notify you of his presence. You were thankful it was him and not any of the other human healers who had been sent out with you. Out of all the ones you had worked with before, Suho was the most lenient with you, and would be less likely to report you for any strange behavior. What he saw as nothing more than the culmination of exhaustion from being overworked, the others might have taken as a sign of suspicious activity.

“Thanks, Suho.” You quickly tugged your shirt on, making sure any and every trace of the mark was tucked and hidden away as you wrapped a belt around your waist. The mere sight of it was making you sick to your stomach, and though hiding it didn’t alleviate the stress if caused, it did help to ease your mind a bit. “I’ll get started on those right away.”

While the situation you had landed yourself in put you on high alert, you did your best to push away any thoughts on the matter away for now, putting your full body and mind into your work. It was easier done than you imagined it to be; the current status of the war giving you plenty to occupy your mind with. You had attended to the majority of the injured soldiers the night before, leaving you with plenty of brewing to do to restock the supplies. With Binna now a lost cause, all time and effort would be poured into defending the last two cities still standing under human control. The majority of the soldiers still alive at Binna would be moving to Yuchae to help defend it; its location putting it directly in between Binna and the capital. You, on the other hand, would be moving back to Maehwa in the upcoming days. None of the council members or higher officials would outwardly declare it, but your talent for potions and healing made you invaluable to them, and they were not willing to lose you in Yuchae. Instead, they would just run you dry over the next few days making potions to stock the city for as long as possible.

The amount of work they had stacked up for you was nearly impossible to achieve in the time you had, especially at the rate supplies had been coming in, but it did allow you some privacy for the time being. Unable to brew any of the potions on his own, Suho took over the rest of the responsibilities for the time being, allowing you to put all your time and focus into restocking supplies, and only ever bothering you every now and again when there was an injury he needed your help with or for a potion they had run out of..

Even if you had wanted to worry about what had happened to you or what the mark that now branded your chest meant, you didn’t have the time to. Your workload left you with barely any time to eat as it was. You were only able to sneak bites here and there, and you were so exhausted by the time nightfall came, you had fallen asleep almost as quickly as your head had hit the pillow.

It was only once your journey back to Maehwa had begun that you had the time to think once again. You had originally thought the forced break of traveling would help with your exhaustion, but you soon found yourself itching for work after the first few hours on horseback. With Suho and the soldiers riding near you silent, you were left with nothing more than your own thoughts to occupy yourself for the following days. None of which helped to calm you down. Even after two days of thinking it all through and trying to understand what might have happened, you were left just as confused as you were before. No matter which way you looked at the situation, you always came back to the same conclusion. You were in deep trouble, and if you weren’t careful over these next few weeks, you could very well get yourself killed.

When the walls of Maehwa came into view on the dawn of the third day, you were surprised to feel the wave of relief the sight caused. Under normal circumstances, you usually despised the city you had grown up in, its high walls and obstinate people leaving you feeling like a prisoner more often than not. But this time, you found yourself relaxing upon your entrance into the city. Your days in the encampment and on the road had left you feeling exposed more often than not, and you couldn’t shake the feeling you were being watched. By whom or from where, you weren’t sure, but the way your chest thrummed throughout the day was beginning to make you paranoid. You weren’t sure what final scenario would be worse. The humans finding out about the brand on your chest, or the daemons deciding they had changed their minds and they didn’t actually want to let you go.

You were sent to work directly upon your arrival, the work left to you having piled up in your nearly two week absence. But just as before, you didn’t mind the work, needing something else besides daemons to occupy your mind for the time being. You might have felt physically refreshed after the journey back, but the weight in your chest had yet to alleviate, making you wonder if it was somehow tied to the golden mark. The idea had seemed ridiculous at first, chalking up the aching emptiness nothing more than a personification of the stress and anxiety building up inside you, but it had appeared with the mark and the way it had kept coming and going throughout the journey began to convince you otherwise. You might have been a half-daemon yourself, but you knew very little of the true extent of power that half of your lineage held. The daemons held their magic close to them, and little about it was known outside their people.

“y/n!” You were swiftly greeted by your elder sister when you entered the small house you shared with her and your brother. “You’re back!” Her face spread with relief as she smiled at you from the kitchen. Despite your continuous reassurances you were kept far away from the fighting, she still worried about you each time you were called away. Though you both knew this wasn’t what truly worried her, but rather the fact you kept sneaking out at night each time you went away. “How’d the new cloak work out for you?”

“It worked just as you had hoped it would,” you replied, hanging it next to the doorway as you slipped off your shoes. “I just may or may not have accidentally torn it when I was out one night.” You knew she would be frustrated at the news, it was a brand new cloak after all, but figured it would be best to tell her when her relief for having you back home was at its highest. “I know, I know, but it’s not all that bad. Just a few cuts around the neck.” You attempted to defend yourself at the exasperated look she sent in your direction at the news, but quickly realized your mistake when her eyes suddenly narrowed.

“And why, pray tell, did it get torn there?”

“It got caught on some branches…?”

You attempted a shrug and a sheepish smile, but neither one seemed to convince her. Her eyes were sharp and clear as she assessed you standing at the doorway and it was impossible for you to match her gaze for more than a few seconds. Your only saving grace was the sound of the door opening back up behind you as your brother returned home.

“n/n, you’re home!” Hyunwoo’s eyes lit up when he saw your figure before him and he didn’t bother with removing his shoes before pulling you in a tight embrace.

“Hey, Woo,” you replied, burying yourself in the familiar touch of your twin.

You hadn’t been gone but a few weeks this time around, but you were more relieved than ever to be back home. The familiar presence of your family filling you with a warmth you hadn’t felt since that night. It didn’t quite fill the hole that had haunted you since then, but their presence did help alleviate it a bit. For the first time in nearly a week, you found the fears and worries that had plagued you just a bit farther away.

“So, n/n, tell me. Were the rumors true?” Hyunwoo asked once Soomin had finished dinner and the three of you settled down at the table to eat. “Was there really a Black General leading the charge at Binna?”

You couldn’t keep your face from blanching at the question, nearly spitting out the bite you had just taken. For just a brief moment you had been able to forget what had happened that night, wrapped up in the familiar jests and groove of being back home. For just a moment you had forgotten the golden mark still gleaming against your chest. But one mention of the man who had turned your world upside down and it all came tumbling back in full force.

“God, really?” Able to read you like a book, Hyunwoo was easily able to take your reaction as confirmation to his question. “I guess that means the other sightings they’ve been talking about are just as true.” His face fell as the realization of what her confirmation actually meant hit. “I would like to say that means they’re starting to get desperate, but I’d say it’s most likely the opposite. The war has dragged on for so long, they’re probably just eager for it to be over now that Yuchae’s all that’s left between us and them.”

“They’ve already started evacuating the city,” you replied, having only taken a few bites before losing your appetite to the direction the conversation had taken. “We made a short detour there on the way back. Most of the soldiers left from Binna were stationed there in preparation for an attack.”

“Do you think it will hold?”

“Perhaps for a few weeks, but…” you sighed, dropping the chopsticks you had been fiddling with in the meantime. Yuchae was a bit larger and more fortified than Binna had been, but you had seen the destruction of Binna with your own eyes. And they had accomplished that much damage in just a few days with only one of the Seven. “No one will outright say it, but it’s a mess out there. You should have seen Binna. Barely a shadow remains of it now, and that was only in a few days. This new king, he’s… different from his father. We could keep the daemons at bay before, but I fear his death was a blow to us rather than the victory we always thought it to be. In just a few years, he’s managed to obtain twice the land his father ever had. And with the rumors of the Seven becoming more frequent, I’m afraid this war will be ending sooner rather than later. And not in the way we would wish it to.”

“Shit,” Hyunwoo cursed, dropping his own chopsticks as the mood came to sour his own appetite.

Ever since the war had started to swing in the direction of the daemons, the council was strangely quiet when it came to the status of the war, not wanting to admit to their people how badly they had begun to lose. They still clung to the victory they had achieved nearly three years ago, when the former king was killed. If it wasn’t for the fact you often traveled outside Maehwa’s walls, you would have been oblivious to what was actually happening. But you had seen first hand the destruction this new king had obtained, and knew the council could only keep up the facade of a victory for so long. Yuchae was all that was left between you, and those walls would only hold for so long. Sooner or later, they would have to accept the truth.

“What do you think will happen?”

Our deaths.

“I don’t know,” you replied, unable to say the words that had immediately popped into your head at his question, but despite the pessimism the situation brought, your mind still went reeling back to the conversation you had had with the Black General.

He had claimed he wanted to know your identity in order to keep you safe from what was to come, but what exactly had he meant by that? While you had long come to doubt the promises from that night, perhaps their intentions had held some truth to them. Maybe he truly had wanted to return the favor and save your own life in return for saving his and the mark had been put in place to keep them from killing you when the inevitable came and Maehwa was attacked. But even if that was true, which you doubted, he was playing a dangerous game. If any of the humans found out about it or just what you had done before the war was over, well, you would be dead before they could think to return the favor. They weren’t the only ones they had to protect you from. The humans could be just as deadly when it came to your life.

“Well, there’s no use in worrying about something that isn’t set in stone. They haven’t won the war yet,” Soomin spoke up in an attempt to alleviate the dark mood that had overtaken their joyful reunion, but you could see your words had affected her just as much as Hyunwoo. “What concerns me the most at the moment is how y/n knew one of the Seven was in Binna.”

“Soldiers talk, Minnie.” You attempted to dodge the question, hating the way her eyes bore into you once more, especially with the way you struggled to hide the way your body betrayed you each time he was mentioned. And this time, there was no Hyunwoo to come in and distract her, who seemed just as keen to hear your explanation as she did. “Rumors were flying around the infirmary and it was just too many coincidences for me to not think they might be true.”

“And yet, despite this knowledge, you still decided to go out and wander the streets at night?”

“I had to! They were going to just leave them there! I couldn’t just let them abandon their own men, not after they risked their lives trying to take back a city the council was well aware was already lost.” You attempted to defend your actions, but even you knew she was right. You had known how risky it was going out at night, and yet, you had still gone. And if you had known what was going to happen to you, you would have never left your bed, dying soldiers or not. “And does it really matter, anyways? I made it back in one piece, didn’t I?”

“What happened out there?”

“What makes you think something happened, Min?” But it was obvious she had long since seen past the charade you had attempted to keep up, her pushiness to get you to talk was starting to choke you up.

“Out of all the nights you’ve gone out, I’ve never seen you like this upon your return. Not even after that first night, n/n. That means something happened out there, something that has you scared.” Soomin’s eyes lightened as she spoke, reaching across the table to take hold of your hands that had unknowingly started to shake.

“I ran into the Black General.” The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them, the want to bear the truth and release the weight it held on you overcoming you in that moment. You couldn’t keep it bottled up anymore. You needed to get it out. “Or rather, his men took me to him.”

“Holy shit, y/n.” Hyunwoo was the first to respond, eyes wide at the sudden revelation you had just dropped on them. Whatever they had been expecting, it hadn’t been this. “How the hell did you get away?”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly dragged there against my wishes. I may or may not have gone willingly, but I would have never agreed to go with them if I had known the one they wanted me to save was one of the Seven.”

“He was injured?”

“You might be happy to learn your newest creation was indeed a success, Woo. A weapon powerful enough to take down a Black General, himself.” You sighed, now realizing how stupid you had been that night now that you were forced to relive it. Even without knowing it was one of the Seven you had been sought out to heal, you should have never gone with them to their hideout. That was just asking for trouble and you knew it. “Or at least, it would have been if I hadn’t stepped in and saved him from it before it was too late.”

“You healed a Black General?” Soomin’s eyes had also grown large, the shock of the situation and fear for your own wellbeing overtaking any need she might have felt to chastise you for your actions. “My god, y/n, what the hell were you thinking? Or were you even thinking at all?”

“I know, I know, but what was I supposed to do, Min? Just let him die?” At the resounding yes that followed your question, you couldn’t help but cringe. “Perhaps you’re right. Maybe I should have just let him die, but I just couldn’t do it. I’m not a killer, and I would have had to live with his blood on my hands for the rest of my life if I had just turned my back and left him there. And even if it wasn’t for the guilt I would have felt, who’s to say they would have even let me go if I had refused? They might have just held me prisoner or threatened my own life if I had.”

“She’s got a point, Min. As stupid as it may have been, she probably made the right choice. Who knows what they would have done to her if she had refused to help them.” Hyunwoo replied, sinking back in his chair. “But none of this explains how you got away. There’s no way they would just let you go after that, especially if they knew about your ability. If they were smart, they would have kept you and used you for themselves.”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, Hyunwoo’s question one of the same ones you had been asking yourself for days now. “I’m not quite sure how I got away. I think they may have just let me go, but everything’s become sort of hazy now.” Your fingers rubbed at your temples, another headache beginning to bloom as you forced yourself to try and remember what had happened that night. “The last thing I remember is his fangs on my neck. I thought for sure he was going to kill me, but then I was back at the infirmary the following morning as though nothing had even happened. If it wasn’t for the mark on my chest, I would almost believe it had been nothing more than a bad-”

“Wait,” Soomin interrupted. “Mark? What mark?”

“I don’t know how or why, but somehow I’ve been marked with the daemon king’s sigil and nothing I’ve tried has gotten rid of it.” Your fingers fiddled with the belt around your waist before flipping up the bottom of your shirt and exposing the portion of the mark that resided beneath your breasts.

Hyunwoo cursed once more, brown eyes wandering across the gold shining in the lamp light.

“God, if anyone finds out about this, n/n.”

“You don’t think I know that, Min?” You let go of your shirt, burying your head in your hands as the situation you had landed yourself in hit you full force once again. You had thought telling them would help alleviate some of the weight, but now you realized all you had succeeded in doing was pulling them in it with you. “If anyone finds out about it or what happened that night, I’m dead. They’ll hang me at the gallows with the other prisoners of war.”

Your hands unconsciously went to your neck, wondering what it would feel like. Would your death be merciful and end with a quick snap of your neck or would you be forced to hang there for minutes until you finally choked to death.

“And you don’t know why they did this or what it might mean?”

“I’ve been asking myself those same questions for days now, but I still can’t explain any of it.” You shook your head, forcing your hands back at your side. “The general said they had heard about what I had been doing these past few years and that my kindness towards them would not be forgotten. He mentioned something about wanting to save me from what’s to come, but if that was true, why did he attack me in the end? Why did he brand me with a mark that would only kill me if anyone were to see it.”

You paused, trying your hardest to fight the emotions swirling inside you. You had done your best to push them aside the past week, burying yourself in your work instead, but you had known that would only work for so long. Sooner of later you would have to come to terms with the mess you had gotten yourself into. Sooner or later you had to come to terms with the fact you may or may not have signed your own death sentence that night. For it the humans didn’t hang you as a traitor, the daemons might very well simply kill you for your mere existence when the war was eventually lost.

The reality of your death was beginning to close down around you, nearly as suffocating as the noose they would wrap around your neck.

Was this what the soldiers felt like before you found them? But unlike them, no one would be coming to your rescue.

Don’t worry, angel. We won’t let anything happen to you. Anyone who so much as touches you will face the full wrath of the daemon king.

“Did you hear that?”

You jumped at the voice that rang inside your head, unsure if you had just imagined it or not. It hadn’t been either of your siblings, having sounded like it had originated inside your mind instead. Which was absolutely insane and you knew it, but even if it hadn’t been, the voice was foreign and unfamiliar. It hadn’t been either of your siblings.

“Hear what?” Hyunwoo asked, eyeing you closely.

“I… I thought.”

Your words trailed off, waiting to see if you would hear it again, but everything was silent. Had you just imagined it? You must have, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you hadn’t. The words rang through your head, repeating themselves. They hadn’t been your own. You hadn’t said them, let alone have thought them, and yet they had run through your head as clearly as though someone had spoken them out loud.

But if it wasn’t you, then who?

And though you knew the answer to your question long before you even asked yourself it, you couldn’t stop the new wave of terror that flew through you. It didn’t matter that the words had seemed to come through with the intention of comforting you, the thought of them doing something else to you once again hitting you full force.

“y/n, are you okay?” Soomin spoke once more, reaching for your hands.

No, you weren’t okay. You were the farthest from okay that you could possibly be. But you couldn’t tell them that. They were worried enough as it was, you couldn’t stand to worry them anymore.

“I- I’m fine. I think it’s just my exhaustion catching up on me. Between the daemons and work, I haven’t really slept much this past week.”

Sure, you were exhausted, but this wasn’t your exhaustion coming through. The voice had been real, and nothing about it had been comforting. Were they spying on you? Was this what the mark had been for? As a way to use you as a vessel for them to spy on the human forces?

The thought left you shivering, more afraid by the thought of them reading your mind or using you as an unwilling spy than the words that had been spoken or the threat that had been placed against anyone who threatened your life.

“Why don’t you go get some rest, then?” Soomin’s eyes were soft when she squeezed your hands. “I know that’s easier said than done, but try not to worry about what happened too much, will you? We’ll figure this out together, okay? I’ll start experimenting in my free time and see if I can’t come up with a rune that’ll hide the mark for the time being. But for now, you are home and you are safe, and that’s what truly matters.”

You nodded, giving her hand a slight squeeze in return before following through with her suggestion and heading to their shared bedroom to sleep.

It took a while, the amount of thoughts going through your mind combined with the hushed whispers your siblings thought you couldn’t hear making it difficult to actually fall asleep. Your ears caught on to each of their words, straining to hear what they were saying in your absence and how they truly felt about the situation you had landed yourself in.

They were scared for you. Not only were they scared for your well-being and safety, but for your mental state as well. Your current state could be brushed aside for exhaustion now, but they knew you and they knew how much it was weighing on you and how badly you would tear yourself up because of it. It all made worse from the fact that there was very little they could do for you.

Their fears weighed on you, adding to your own, and you curled yourself up into a tight ball to try and alleviate some of the shame and disappointment you felt at dragging them into this mess with you. If your mistake ended up killing you, then so be it. You could live with that. But you couldn’t live with it if it hurt either of your siblings. You didn’t know what you would do if your mistakes got either of your siblings killed.

You laid awake for hours into the night, mind still reeling far past the time Soomin joined you in bed. But eventually, your exhaustion finally caught up with you fully, and no matter how much your mind reeled, you found yourself struggling to focus on the thoughts running through your head. And eventually, you found yourself slowly sinking into unconsciousness, the fears that had haunted you for weeks finally slipping away, if only for a brief moment.

~

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