#areas where its supposed to be difficult turn out to be pretty easy for me

[the-snowfall]

a lot of people really hyped up how hard v2 is to fight, so I was really excited cause!! thats my boy!!!!!!

I fucking detonated him first try in both instances are you kidding me💔

anyway my point is im going to quit standard and replay everything on violent now

[mandos-mind-trick]

Heat of the Moment

Summary: It was supposed to be an easy mission, just a simple insurrection on a primitive planet. Nothing ever goes as planned, and Clone Force 99's civilian member finds herself in a sticky situation.

Pairing: Hunter x reader

Warnings: Sex pollen, medical inaccuracies, dub-con because sex pollen, hidden feelings, ROUGH sex, angst, biting, scratching, brief mentions of blood, excessive use of the word pussy, manhandling, injuries, confession of feelings, oral, smelling, unprotected sex, creampies galore, it's really rough guys please use caution

A/N: All hail the mighty sex pollen trope. I am here with another sex pollen fic that sort of got away from me. I didn't plan on it being this long but I have been rather long winded recently. Please heed the warnings since this is pretty intense and rough and yeah. Enjoy!

MASTERLIST

It happens suddenly. 

You’re crouched behind a rock, taking cover as you fire at droids. It was nothing more than an insurrection on a relatively primordial planet. Squashing insurrections was becoming your specialty. 

You were entirely focused on taking out droids when you felt the sudden prick on your neck. It was hardly more than a sting, like that of a bug, but enough to draw your attention from the fight. You reach up, fingers meeting something soft like feathers. You tug on it, feeling a small pinch as it’s tugged from your skin. You lean against the rock you had been taking cover behind, staring down at the brightly colored dart resting in your palm. 

Someone shot you with a dart. Your eyes scan the trees, looking for any sign of who could have shot you, but there’s nothing. No sign of anyone. 

Your arm flies up out of instinct, covering your face as sparks erupt right over your head. A droid falls at your side with a clang, Hunter sheathing his knife. You blink up at him, suddenly remembering you’re in the middle of a fight. You feel a bit like your brain is moving in slow motion, your fingers beginning to tingle. 

You blink as Hunter squats down next to you. He’s been speaking to you, but you haven’t been listening. His fingers close around yours, pulling your hand closer to him. His hands are warm, practically pulsing against your tingling fingertips. You’re still holding the dart in your palm, the bright plumage a stark contrast to your black glove. 

“Did this hit you?” He asks, taking the dart from your hand. 

You nod slowly, forcing your mouth closed. You hadn’t even realized it was hanging open. 

“Tech, do you know what it is?” Hunter asks, handing the dart off to Tech. 

You turn to look up at Tech. When had he arrived? You glance around, the other three standing around you. Was the fight over? When had they gotten here? 

Tech lowers his visor, studying the dart. “It will be difficult to discern.” He says, turning the dart in his hands. “There is not much knowledge on the inhabitants of this planet, or its native flora. I will have to do further testing to be certain.” Tech pockets the dart before kneeling down in front of you. “Are you experiencing any symptoms?” 

You stare at the visor, looking past it to his eyes. Gloved hands cup your face, tugging lightly at the skin below your eyes. You flinch under the touch, your skin tingling under the rough fabric of his gloves. 

“Slight dilation of the pupils. Body temperature is just higher than normal.” Tech says, studying your face. 

“‘M fine.” You murmur, suddenly snapping to the present. 

“Delayed cognitive processing.” Tech pulls away from you, your skin itching where his hands had been. “That could be concerning.” 

Hunter pushes himself to stand and you use the rock behind you to help get your feet under you. Your legs are twitching, feeling a bit like jelly as you attempt to steady yourself. “Tech, Echo, take her back to the ship. See if you can figure out what was on that dart. The rest of us will scan the area. Whoever shot her couldn’t have gotten far on foot.” 

You push yourself off the rock, wavering for just a moment before you steady yourself. It feels as if you’re moving in slow motion, each step taking every ounce of effort to move your feet forward. 

The trek back to the Marauder is slow going. 

Tech’s fingers are moving at light speed on his datapad, head down as you follow the trail back to the Marauder. Echo walks next to you, watching you cautiously. You’ve broken out in a sweat, your blacks sticking to your back under your light armor. It’s uncomfortable, the fabric almost unbearable as it chafes your skin. You’re not sure if it’s the heat blooming under your skin, or the unbearable feeling of the fabric, but you want to pull your clothes off. 

You stumble to a stop as Echo grabs your arm. You had been undoing the clasps of your armor without even realizing it. You frown, dragging a hand across your forehead to wipe the sweat off. “‘M hot.” You murmur. 

“We’ll never make it at this speed.” Echo says. “She’s going to drop before we even get there.” 

Tech pockets his datapad and suddenly your world is spinning. You nearly black out at the sudden movement, your head falling limply against a plastoid-covered shoulder. 

“Her temperature has spiked.” His voice rumbles through his chest, vibrating against your side. “The sooner we can reach the Marauder, the sooner we can combat her symptoms.” 

The world sways as Tech carries you back to the Marauder. The trip takes half the time it would have had you still been walking. Echo had been right, you likely wouldn’t have made it. You’re hot and exhausted even being carried. 

The air doesn’t feel any cooler in the Marauder as Tech sits you in a chair. Your head is swimming, fingers fumbling to remove your armor. You can’t stand it. It’s heavy and it’s pressing your blacks tighter against your skin. Echo helps you remove each piece, setting it out of the way as he runs a scan. Tech works on scanning the dart, trying to figure out what it was coated with to see how best to help you. 

Echo straps a monitor to your arm, your vision still swimming as you try to focus on his helmet. You still feel like the world is moving in slow motion, even just lifting your hand feels like it’s taking every ounce of effort. 

“Hmm,” Tech hums, staring at the screen. “There’s no record of any of the compounds pulled from the dart. I’ll need to run a further analysis to see if I can break down their individual components.” 

“Well, whatever you have to do, do it fast.” Echo says. “Her heart rate is spiking again.” 

Tech turns to look at you, adjusting his goggles. “We may need to consider a medical center. They will have the resources to keep her stable.” 

You swallow thickly. Even in your half delirious state, you know that what Tech is suggesting isn’t coming lightly. You could deteriorate faster than he can figure out what was unwittingly injected into your body. And if there was no cure...a medical center would be better prepared to search for one and keep you alive while they did it. 

Heat begins blooming under your skin once more as you sit and wait, your vision swimming. The monitor on your arm begins to beep rapidly, your hands and feet starting to tingle. You feel a bit like you’re floating, like your brain is leaving your body behind. 

“...get back to the ship...condition deteriorating...” Tech’s voice fades into the background, your eyes fluttering shut. 

***

There’s a hand on your face when you snap back into reality. The sweat sliding down your temples is uncomfortable, practically burning your skin. The rough fabric of the glove is too much and not enough at the same time. You blink up at the helmet hovering in front of your face. 

“...bacta’s working...waking up...” 

The voices float in and out around you. You feel hot, hotter than you had been when you passed out. Your blacks are almost unbearable, between the heat trapped under them from your skin and the intense sensation of the fabric against your skin, you’re ready to strip down right there. 

Hands grasp yours, stilling their movements. 

You had been pulling your blacks off, the top half undone and untucked from the bottoms. You weakly try to pull your hands free, but Hunter’s grip on you is tight. He’s breathing heavily, the sound of his breaths just barely audible through his helmet. You can feel the subtle vibration in the seat under you as the Marauder hurtles through hyperspace. 

“‘M hot.” You whine, still trying to fight Hunter’s grasp on you. 

“I know.” He says, voice raspy through his helmet. “Your fever’s going down.” He slowly releases your hands and they fall limply to your sides again. He turns away from you to face Tech at the other console. “Are you any closer?” His tone is sharp, shoulders tense. Even in your delirious state you can tell he’s on edge. 

You’ve spent a lot of time staring at Hunter. You could read him like a novel, far better than you could read the others. He had been one of the most welcoming of the group when you had been forced to join, though finding your place among them had taken some time. They’ve been together their whole lives and suddenly someone else is being thrown into the mix, a nat-born and a woman to boot. You had spent a lot of time studying him, watching him even when you weren’t in the middle of a battle. How easily he moves, how graceful he is, how aware of everything he is. The dexterity of his fingers and how easily he can wield a knife. 

You may have developed some feelings for your Sergeant, but you would never admit it. He’s never shown any interest in that at all, so you would hold your peace. You’d suffer in silence, stuck doing nothing but fantasizing when everyone else was asleep. 

A wave of heat burns through your body, making you wince. You’re uncomfortable, a cramping sensation beginning in your lower abdomen. You wince, hissing out a breath as you curl in on yourself. 

“You alright?” Echo asks, putting a hand on your shoulder. 

“Hurts.” You gasp out, tensing your whole body as you wait for the cramping to stop. 

Sweat is pooling in your underwear and between your legs, the fabric of your blacks beginning to chafe uncomfortably. You desperately want to be naked. Anything to relieve some of the sensation. 

You let out a shaky breath as the sensation begins to subside, but now there’s a slight pulsing between your legs. 

“You’re developing new symptoms.” Tech says, staring at you. “What did it feel like?” 

“Cramping.” You say, pushing your hands into the spot right above your pelvis where you had felt it. “Here.” 

Tech stares at you contemplatively for a moment before he spins back around to the console, typing away rapidly. 

You shift in your seat, gasping quietly as your thighs press together. Your pussy is throbbing, underwear no longer damp from just sweat anymore. You should tell Tech about this development as well, but you’re afraid to. How do you bring something like that up to someone who was essentially your coworker, much less in a room full of your other coworkers? 

Oh yeah, by the way, I’m also feeling very horny. That wouldn’t be an awkward conversation at all. 

Your blacks continue to chafe your skin, sticking in sweaty places and rubbing others. You can’t stand it. It’s all too much, every sensation against your body too much. “Kriff it.” You breathe, tugging the top of your blacks off. “I can’t.” 

The soaked fabric hits the floor with a plop, leaving you in nothing but your breastband. Echo quickly straightens up, turning his gaze to the back of the ship. Wrecker clears his throat, turning his back to you very quickly. You’ve all seen each other in various states of undress before. It wasn’t like this was that kind of situation. You were potentially dying. 

If you’re going to die, you’re going to do it comfortably, even if that comes at the expense of your poor squadmates. 

Even your breastband is almost too much, nipples hard and poking at the thick fabric. Every breath is like torture, every small sensation only adding to the throbbing between your legs. Even the vibration of the seat, something you normally didn’t even notice, is almost too much. 

“Kriff,” Hunter breathes, popping his helmet off. His forehead is beading with sweat under the bandana, strands of hair sticking to his face and neck. 

“You alright, Hunter?” Wrecker asks, watching his sergeant with rapt attention. Everyone is staring at him now, not just you. 

“No!” He snaps, his helmet hitting the floor with a clang. “I can smell it! I can smell her!” He points at you. 

The entire ship falls silent, no one moving for a moment. You hadn’t even thought about the fact Hunter could probably smell you. He’d likely known before you had how aroused you were becoming. The thought has your face flushing. You’d pictured him many times burying his face in your pussy, breathing in your scent from its source, praising you on how good you smell, how good you taste. 

The thoughts have your pussy throbbing even more. 

Tech stands from the console, turning to Echo, speaking quietly despite the fact Hunter could still hear him. “Take her into the cockpit and seal the door. Don’t open it, no matter what you hear.” 

Echo nods, scooping you into his arms before carrying you into the cockpit. His scomp is cold against your back, but it feels good, like a brief respite from the fire burning beneath your skin. He sits you down in the copilot’s seat before he locks the door, sealing you off from the others. 

He takes a seat in the pilot’s chair, checking the navigation. You’re still a few hours out from the nearest medical center. 

Are you going to make it that long? 

“I have a theory.” Tech’s voice comes through the comm, drawing your attention from your thoughts. “I’ve managed to identify one of the chemical agents found on the dart. The others are a mix of pollen from plants native to the planet. It appears to be causing an excessive release of estrogen from the hypothalamus.” 

“What does that mean?” Hunter’s voice is faint through the comms, but you can still hear the strain in it. 

“She’s experiencing a state of hyper-arousal. As more and more estrogen is released, her state of arousal continues to increase. That is why her heart rate and temperature continue to spike, and why she is in such a state of discomfort.” Tech states, far too calmly for the situation. 

“What do we do?” Wrecker asks. 

“She will die, if the effects are not reversed. She will suffer brain damage if her body temperature continues to rise, and the prolonged tachycardia will cause heart failure.” Tech says. 

You gulp, your skin starting to prickle. So you are dying. Dying from horniness. 

“Bacta will not work, so long as her hypothalamus is in a state of dysfunction. It can lessen the fever and help slow her heart rate, but it will only be effective for so long.” Tech continues. “There is no known remedy, since this compound has been entirely unknown to science until now.”

“Why would they do this?” Hunter asks, his voice louder. You can hear the agitation in his tone. “Why would they give her something like this?” 

“I am uncertain.” Tech answers. “A possible explanation is this is a common aphrodisiac used for mating purposes. The natives of the planet may be more tolerant to the compound. Perhaps they were unwelcoming of both us and the droids and this was their only means of protecting themselves.” 

“And she’s the easiest target since she doesn’t wear a helmet.” Crosshair says.  

“Precisely.” Tech says. “It also explains why you are being affected as well. Beyond being able to sense her arousal, it is likely the compound is causing her to release a pheromone that is too faint for us to sense. But for someone with heightened senses...” 

“Kriff.” Hunter curses, his voice sounding strained. “What do we do? How do we fix it?” 

“It is possible a release of other chemicals may slow the hypothalamus’ excretion of estrogen enough to stave off the symptoms until we can reach a medical center.” Tech says. 

“How do we do that?” Hunter asks. 

“An orgasm would be the simplest way.” Tech answers. 

Your cheeks burn again. Hearing Tech speak so lewdly is strange to you. None of them had ever even made jokes, much less shown any interest. It had been jarring compared to other similar situations you’ve been in. Five men alone on a ship with one woman and not even one whistle or comment or passing of the hand. 

“Kriff it.” You breathe, tugging your pants off. Echo quickly focuses his gaze out the viewport as you stand, moving to the back of the cockpit. “Just...don’t turn around.” You say, laying yourself out on the floor. 

The metal is cold against your skin, offering a respite to the heat for a moment. You slip a hand in your underwear, peeling it from your soaked pussy. You sigh quietly as you pass your fingers over your clit, toes curling in response to finally giving your desperate pussy some attention. 

You bite your lip to keep quiet for Echo’s sake as you slowly work yourself up. Your legs start to shake, that cramping feeling starting to build in your stomach once more and you huff out a sigh. You withdraw your hand as the pleasure fades, taken over by the intense cramping. Fluid soaks your panties as your pussy begins to throb even more. You force a hand under the fabric once more, desperately rubbing at your clit but you can’t quite reach the peak. No matter how badly your pussy throbs for attention, you cannot bring yourself to cum.

You huff out another sigh, pushing yourself to stand. There’s a wet spot on the floor in the shape of your body, but you don’t give it a second glance. You’re so far past modesty at this point. You lean over Echo, hitting the button for the comms. 

“It’s not working.” Your voice has a bite to it, not unlike Hunter’s had. “I can’t...finish.” 

“Hunter has been unsuccessful as well.” Tech says. 

A thought crosses your mind. Heat pools in your stomach, another cramp starting to form. Your skin tingles, heat radiating from you so hot you’re sure Echo can feel it. You feel dizzy, the exertion of trying to make yourself cum hitting you suddenly and your knees buckle. You sink to the floor, curling in on yourself. Your heart is pounding in your chest, terrifying you that it might stop at any moment. 

“Let him fuck me.” You murmur, breathing through the intense cramping and the throbbing in your pussy. 

“What?” Echo glances down at you. 

“Let him fuck me!” You cry, looking up at him with teary eyes. “It’s the only way we can both get help right now. Tech said it’s probably used for mating. I don’t think we can fix it any other way.” 

The ship is silent except for the quiet hum of the engine. Tears of exhaustion and pain blur your vision. You’re desperate, legs shaking from the intense throbbing of your pussy and the cramping in your stomach. You just want to feel normal again. 

“Mesh’la.” Hunter’s deep voice crackles through the comms. He’s called you that before a couple times. You don’t know what it means. None of them will tell you. “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“I’m already hurting.” You sob, tears burning as they slide down your cheeks. “Kriff, it hurts so much!” Your sob cuts off in a cry as another wave of heat and pain rolls through your body. “Please, Hunter. I don’t want to die.” 

The comms pick up quiet cursing and shuffling on the other side before they go quiet. You push yourself to stand, using the chairs and the wall for support as you move to the door, unlocking the cockpit. You step out on shaky legs, beads of arousal sliding down the insides of your thighs, mixing with the sweat. Wrecker, Crosshair, and Tech file silently into the cockpit, the door sliding closed behind you. 

You’re left standing alone, Hunter on the opposite end of the ship. He’s ditched his armor leaving him in nothing but his blacks, the bottoms half hanging open. His shoulders are tense and squared, brows furrowed as he stares at you. 

“Hunter,” Your voice wavers, tears still pricking your vision. “I need you to know something before we do this.” 

This isn't how you wanted to tell him, how you wanted this to play out. You wanted him to come to you, to admit any feelings he might have, even if they’re just lust. You would never force yourself on him, reveal feelings you weren’t sure would be reciprocated. You would suffer in silence if it meant keeping the integrity of the team intact. 

His hands curl into fists as you take a step closer, nostrils flaring. You can only imagine what you smell like to him right now. He’s not in his right mind. He would have avoided your gaze, averted his from your almost naked body. Instead his eyes trail your form, watching one of the beads of arousal or sweat slide down to your knee. 

“I’ve had feelings for you for a while now.” You continue, ignoring the way his gaze starts to turn almost predatory, his eyes going almost black. “I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t know if you felt the same way. I didn’t want things to end up being awkward.” You sniffle, continuing to approach him slowly. “I didn’t want it to happen like this.” 

“Kriff, mesh’la.” He breathes, staring at you. He takes a deep breath, eyes screwing closed as he practically shudders. “I know. I’ve known for a while. Your heart rate...the arousal.” He swallows thickly. “I could sense it all. I-I’m your sergeant. I’m not supposed to take advantage of you like that.” 

“Is it really taking advantage of someone that wants it too?” Your voice shakes, more tears sliding down your cheeks.

Another wave of heat rolls beneath your skin, making you cramp. Your chest hurts from how hard your heart has been pumping. You’re scared. You cry out from the pain, knees buckling as you begin to fall forward.  

You don’t hit the floor. 

Arms wrap around you, pulling you tight against a sturdy chest. A groan rumbles through your body, Hunter’s face pressing into your neck. He inhales deeply, his tongue darting out to taste the sweat-soaked skin. He sighs out a long breath, making you shiver. His hands smooth up your back, his skin bare and rough against yours. 

You let out a whine as he mouths at your throat, legs still shaking. You’re not sure how much longer you can hold out. You’re starting to get dizzy again, the bacta wearing off as your fever comes back full force. 

“Please.” You beg, beginning to go limp against him. “Make it stop. Make it better.” 

He sinks his teeth into your shoulder and you let out a weak whimper at the sensation. “Gonna make you feel good.” He groans, voice rough and strained. He’s suffering almost as much as you are. “Could smell you as soon as I got on board.” 

He guides you onto the floor of the ship, letting you lay there limply. You feel sick again, not unlike how you had felt when you had first been shot with the dart. Your pussy is still throbbing, desperate for any sort of relief, but you’re beginning to feel it in the rest of your body again. You’re afraid. If this doesn't work...you may not come out on the other side. 

Hunter slips his hands around your back, practically ripping your breastband in an attempt to get it off. Your nipples pebble in the cool air in the ship, your breasts feeling heavy. Hunters thumbs tease your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. You whimper, the pain beginning to ease as his hands tease you, every touch like electricity on your heated skin. 

He curses, sliding his hands down your sides. You shift your hips what little you can, helping him rid you of your panties. They land with a wet plop somewhere behind you, your legs spreading wide open for him. You’re slick and soaked, your pussy throbbing for him. His hands slide down your thighs, keeping your legs parted so far it’s almost painful but you don’t care. 

He leans down, breath fanning across the damp skin before he presses his face against your pussy, inhaling deeply. He lets go of your thighs, letting them close around his head as he stays there, face buried in your pussy as he breathes you in. You lift your head as much as you can, staring at him as he lays there, eyes closed in bliss. Your cheeks warm, having imagined this moment several times. 

Those fantasies could never compare to it actually happening. 

You let out a quiet sound as his eyes open, boring into yours. His gaze is primal and clouded with lust as he stares at you, shifting his head just enough that he can drag his tongue through your folds. 

Your fingers could never make you feel the way he does, not even when you had tried to get yourself off in the cockpit. You could cry from the pleasure as he drags his tongue through your folds, tasting the wetness your body has been producing in desperate need for someone to touch you. 

It’s obscene the way his tongue parts your lips, dragging from your hole to the top where he flicks it across your clit. You could cum just like this, just from watching him lick you. His gaze stays locked with yours as his hands slip under your ass, lifting your hips just slightly as he lowers his head, tracing your lips with his tongue before he sinks it into your pussy. 

His nose presses against your clit as he thrusts his tongue as deep as he can, your pussy fluttering around him in relief of finally having something inside you. His growl vibrates through your entire body, your hips shifting against his face. You gasp at the sensation of his nose dragging across your clit, shifting your hips again. 

He continues to fuck you with his tongue as you ride his face, your upper body falling limp against the floor. It’s not enough, not nearly enough to make you cum, but it’s the best you’ve felt since you got hit with the dart. 

“Please, Hunter.” You beg, continuing to grind desperately on his face. “Please, I need you inside me.” 

He groans, lifting his face from your pussy. It’s shining with your juices, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. “Taste so good.” His voice is deep and rough from his own need. “Such a sweet little pussy.” 

Your fingers pluck at your nipples as he strips out of his blacks, desperate to keep any sort of sensation going to abate the pain you know is waiting if you stop. You stare unabashedly at his hard cock as it's revealed to you. He’s not very long, but what he lacks in length, he makes up for in girth. You lick your lips, legs splaying open in invitation. 

You need him inside you now. 

He slides back in between your legs, meeting no resistance as he slides into you. You’ve been waiting for this moment, desperate for it for so long now. He folds his body over yours as he fills your needy pussy, the sensation of his sweaty skin against yours too much and not enough at the same time. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer, so tight there’s almost no space between your bodies. You want to devour him, to pull him completely inside you so you’re one being. 

Your mind feels hazy as he begins to move, fucking into you with short, sharp thrusts. He buries his face in your neck as he fucks you, teeth sinking into your skin. It’s animalistic, the sounds he’s making, the wild way he’s fucking into you. You can do nothing but wrap yourself around him and hold on, letting him take what he needs from you, letting him ease the ache within you. 

Your vision nearly goes white as you’re thrown into your first orgasm, walls clamping down so tightly around him his rhythm stutters, cock pulsing inside you as you spasm around him. Your nails dig into his skin, drawing blood as white hot pleasure burns through you. 

It burns hotter than the fever that had been plaguing you, hotter than the drug could ever make you feel. You can’t feel anything but him for a moment, tears leaking out of your eyes as you ride out your first high.

He’s staring down at you, a rivulet of blood trailing down his chin as your vision begins to clear. There’s blood dripping from his sides, mixing with the sweat on your skin from where your nails had ripped at his skin. Despite your blinding orgasm, your pussy is still throbbing, the heat beneath your skin still burning hot. 

You’re nowhere near done. 

Hunter sits up and grabs your hips, flipping you onto your stomach. You hit the floor with a thud, narrowly missing smashing your face into the hard metal. He forces your hips up, shaky legs keeping your ass raised for him. He kneels behind you, dragging his cock through your messy pussy before he’s sinking back in, filling your desperate cunt once more. 

It truly feels animalistic now, forced into such a primal position, unable to do anything but hold yourself up as he relentlessly fucks into you. His hands are bruising at your hips, blunt nails biting into your skin. He curses, tightening his grip until it’s almost painful as he stills, cock pulsing inside you as he fills you with his cum. 

You moan from the sensation of being filled with him, eyes rolling back as your own orgasm ripples through you. He’s still hard inside you, even as the last spurts of him hit your walls. 

This is far from over. 

Hunter keeps you in this position, picking up his pace once more. He can do nothing but grunt and growl as he fucks into you, nothing but whimpers and whines leaving your throat as he drags orgasm after orgasm from you, filling you over and over with his seed. 

Your knees begin to ache, sensations coming back to you as he releases your hips, tangling a hand in your hair instead. Your body drops, his following as he pins you to the floor, holding you in place as he seeks one last orgasm. There’s a pool of drool under your cheek, the floor a mess of blood and cum and sweat. 

His hand tightens in your hair painfully, gripping onto you as he cums one last time, forcing your body into one more orgasm with him. You both lay there panting, the heat under your skin beginning to fade. The hand in your hair begins to loosen until it’s sliding out, planting itself next to your head. 

“Hunter?” You whisper, voice cracking and rough. 

He’s breathing heavily, still inside you, still trapping you against the floor. “Mesh’la.” His voice cracks, heavy with emotion. 

You grab his wrist before he can pull away, shifting your hips until he slips out of you. You wince at the sensation, pussy sore from the pounding it had just taken. You feel weak and sore, limbs shaking as you roll yourself over onto your back so you can stare up at him. 

You can see it in his face, the reality beginning to set in, the gravity of the situation hitting him. You’re both a mess of blood and bruises and fluids. You try not to look down, try to keep your focus on his face, and his focus on yours. 

You lift shaking hands to his cheeks, his bandana somewhere on the floor beside you. You brush his hair from his face, the strands soaked with sweat. “One more time.” You whisper, tracing the skull tattoo. “One more time.” 

You can’t explain it, can’t give a reason but you don’t need to. He reaches down, jerking his cock a couple of times before he sinks back into you. You close your eyes, your face pinching a bit at the soreness. You’re not going to be able to walk or sit comfortably for a few days. You’re not likely to forget this. 

He stays still as he seats himself inside you, allowing his body to press against yours. Your arms wrap around his neck, holding him against you as he buries his face in your shoulder. You hold him as he begins to move, slow and deep, a contrast to what he had just done to your body. 

Your toes curl as raw pleasure burns through you, not like it had before, not brought on by the drug in your system. The heat that blossoms under your skin feels natural, feels normal. How it should feel. You pull his face from your shoulder, keeping his eyes on you as he fucks into you. Despite the discomfort, despite the pain, despite the ache deep in your bones you can feel the heat blooming in your stomach. 

“Thank you,” You whisper, his head lowering towards your face. 

For a moment you think he might kiss you but he doesn’t, letting his forehead rest against yours. You close your eyes, basking in the pleasure, basking in the feeling of him inside you, really inside you. Not the desperation you had been feeling, the need for him to utterly destroy you to keep you from dying. 

Just for a moment you can imagine what it would be like if he were yours. If you had been brave enough to tell him before. If your fantasies were more than just fantasies. 

You spasm around him as you cum, holding him tightly against you. He groans your name as he cums, cock twitching weakly inside you. You’re both exhausted, both feeling the effects of the drug wearing off. 

You hold onto him knowing this can’t happen again, knowing you’ll likely be putting in transfer paperwork as soon as you land. Tears prick your vision as you feel yourself fading, body giving out from exhaustion. 

***

It’s too bright when you wake. 

You hate medical centers and their harsh sterile environments. The GAR’s are no better, in fact they might be worse. You’re sticky from dried bacta, something tugging on your arm as you try to move it. Your fingers make out the shape of an IV moments before they’re gently eased away. 

“Don’t go pulling that out now.” A familiar voice says. 

“Wasn’t gonna.” You manage to get out, your tongue feeling swollen and throat dry. Your voice sounds like you’ve swallowed sand, rough and weak. 

You crack your eyes open, squinting against the harsh light of the medical station. The cot you’re on is hard and uncomfortable, and the blanket is scratchy against your sensitive skin. It was like no one cared about the comfort of the clones, even in a vulnerable place such as a medical station. 

You squint up at the reg medic above you, his head bowed as he stares at a datapad. You cast a quick glance around your bed. You’re slightly disappointed to find you’re alone. They’ve probably already left. You’ll be handed a transfer request as soon as you’re sitting up, you’re sure of it. 

You can’t blame them. 

The medic goes through a series of tests, explaining your injuries and what they had found left over in your bloodstream when you’d arrived, and what they had done to fix it. You should be perfectly fine, aside from some lingering soreness that could last as long as a few hours as the bacta finishes working its way through your system. 

You finally get some water and rations, downing almost a whole pitcher. Every time the door opens, you half expect it to be someone in command coming to give you your new orders. You wonder where they’ll put you. On a base somewhere? In with a larger battalion? Or were you going right back to Coruscant where you started? 

A doctor comes in to check you, double checking all your tests and vitals are normal. You withhold details, not sure how much the others had said, if they’d said anything at all. Regardless, you wouldn’t throw them under the bus, even if they did leave you here. 

“Your squad is waiting in the hangar.” The doctor says, signing off on the datapad. “They were banned from the upper levels after they started a fight with a medic who was trying to keep them from following you into the exam room.” 

You stare at the doctor with wide eyes, not expecting that. So they hadn’t left you? They had even started a fight for you? 

“You’re cleared to go.” The doctor says. 

You blink at her for a moment before your mind catches up. You’re still in shock that they want to keep you on the squad, much less that they’d waited for you. You’re surprised the GAR hadn’t sent them on another mission while you were recovering. 

You change into the scratchy clothes the medical station laid out before you before you make your way through the maze to the hangar. You’re nervous on the lift ride down, your stomach churning, threatening to bring back up the rations. You could go straight to command and ask for a transfer yourself. You could ask to never have to see them again, never have to face them after everything. 

But they had waited for you. 

Were they waiting to serve you transfer papers themselves? Pass over your belongings before telling you to get out of their sight? You’re nearly sick as the lift slows to a stop, opening to the hangar. You step off, legs shaking as you scan the ships until you find the Marauder. 

You’ve convinced yourself to turn back around and board the lift when your name is called, loudly, echoing in the hangar. People stop and stare, your cheeks warming in embarrassment. 

Wrecker is waving his arm, towering over the civilians and regs milling about in the hangar. You can’t run for it now. You take a breath, letting it out before you weave through the crowd towards the Marauder. 

You’re scooped off your feet as soon as you’re in sight, joints cracking as Wrecker picks you up in a hug and spins you. You yelp in shock, not expecting such a welcoming response. 

“Easy, Wrecker.” Crosshair says. “You don’t want to send her back to a bacta tank, do you.” 

“Sorry.” Wrecker sets you back on your feet, patting your back a little too hard, nearly knocking the air from your lungs. “I’m just glad you’re alright.” 

“Yes, I read over the doctor’s notes.” Tech says. “I am pleased with the results of your tests.” 

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. “Good to see you too, Tech.” 

Your body floods with shame as you turn to Echo, remembering what you had put him through in the cockpit in your desperation to end your suffering. 

“Don’t.” He says, putting a hand on your shoulder. “You needed to try. I’m just sorry it didn’t work.” 

You nod, squeezing his hand. “Thank you for looking out for me.” 

He squeezes your shoulder again as you glance around. Hunter is nowhere to be found. Your brows pull together in a frown. Was he still being checked out? Did someone spill? Had they figured out what had happened and he was being reprimanded and being sent to be decommissioned. No, that wouldn’t be right. The others wouldn’t be so happy. They likely wouldn’t have let you walk out of there either. 

“He’s on board.” Crosshair says, rolling his eyes. “Wallowing in his own self-made misery.” 

They part the way for you, letting you walk up the steps into the Marauder. It feels different now, after what had happened. It’s been cleaned, likely meticulously by Tech while they waited. It hasn’t smelled this decent probably since it came off the line. 

You walk through the cockpit into the hull. Hunter has his back to you, standing near the gunner’s chair. You approach slowly, knowing he knows you’re there. You can’t hide anything from him. 

“Hunter?” You ask quietly, the others loading up behind you. 

“Was it true?” He asks, turning his head slightly to look over his shoulder. “What you said?” 

You know what he’s talking about. You wanted him to know before, while there was still a shred of sanity. You wanted him to know in case he remembered. You didn’t want him to feel guilty. 

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yes. All of it.” 

His shoulders slump, his head turning away from you. “It’s frowned upon.” He says. “We’re not supposed to fraternize.” 

“Since when do you follow rules?” You say, voice shaking just a little. 

His back straightens just a little, a laugh huffing from his chest. “You’re right.” 

He turns, crossing the distance between you quickly. He takes you in his arms, pressing his lips against yours. You kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. His lips are soft against yours, teeth nibbling at your lower lip. 

“You could at least wait until we take off.” Crosshair sighs behind you. 

You giggle against Hunter’s lips, his hand lifting from your back for a moment and you can imagine the rude sign he had just flashed at Crosshair. You pull him back to you, pressing your lips against his once more. 

Taglist:

@kaminocasey @rosechi @mxkyrie @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @padawancat97 @bamfahsoka @rain-on-kamino @thrawnspetgoose @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar @starrylothcat @blueink-bluesoul @freesia-writes @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @dystopicjumpsuit @littlemissmanga @madameminor @eris-k @clio3kantarella @moonlightwarriorqueen @sleepingsun501 @originalcollectionartistry @maddiedrmr @idontgetanysleep @clonemedickix @523rdrebel @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @sinfulsalutations @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sunshinesdaydream @mooncommlink

[rioreeve]

Zach & Skyler Self-Para

//Rosie's Diner. Nov 18, early afternoon.

The talk he had with Ria was something he kept thinking about since she left; he wanted to go to Courtney himself, but what if she wouldn't want to talk to him at all without Ria's intro? It would be for the better if he waited for his turn, let the girls talk first. He tried reading a book he'd started before the outbreak but, for some reason, he couldn't focus and the whole situation reminded him of some high school drama he'd never been a part of. At first, cleaning sounded like a good idea but this also turned out too difficult a task to stick to, and Zach found himself playing with one of his butterfly knives, absentmindedly watching the blade as it moved. Has Ria talked to Courtney yet or not?

A sound loud enough to reach his floor broke him out of that state and made Zach flinch. What the hell was that? He slid the knife into his back pocket and left Doom in the condo as he walked outside to investigate. Everything seemed perfectly normal, even though he was sure it sounded like a gunshot to him, and now he started feeling stupid for thinking that someone would have a reason to shoot a gun in-... No, it made perfect sense, actually.

Muffled sounds that followed the supposed gunshot only made his heart skip a beat. Zach shut the door behind him and knocked on his neighbor's door.

"Court? Are you okay? Are you there?" Silence. He sighed. "If you can hear me, stay in there, okay?" No answer. Hopefully, she would stay there if she was home at all.

Zach made his way to the stairs and started running downstairs, wondering what could have happened and what he would see down there. The sounds grew louder and louder with each floor and it was pretty clear that something horrible was happening somewhere in the diner area when he reached the third floor. It's also there where he bumped into a man he didn't recognize. With all the yelling and panic so audible in everyone's voices, Zach's heart was racing, and his jog down the stairs didn't help much.

"What the fuck is going on down there? Who are you?"

The other man unlocked the door to what must have been his apartment and ran inside without a single word, but something was telling Zach he wasn't just ignoring the question. As he stood there, waiting for his reaction, two residents passed him, rushing upstairs in panic, and a man who introduced himself as "Skyler, a new resident", emerged from the apartment, holding a gun.

"Some girl turned into one of those dead fuckers, she bit someone and I ran 'ere to get a gun. They're in the diner. Come with me, you got any weapon?" Skyler stopped, arching a brow, and when Zach pulled out his knife – only now realizing he had taken it with him – he nodded. "Good. Now come on!"

The two made the rest of the way to the diner together, fingers wrapped tightly around their weapons of choice. The diner looked like a horror movie set; there was blood, some people were trying to run to safety while others did their best to protect themselves and their fellow residents from the zombies. Plural. Great. What a horrible sight it was. Zach and Skyler could feel the adrenaline take over as they watched the chaos unfold before their eyes.

Zach turned to Skyler with a pat on his shoulder, pointing at one of the dead but exceptionally animated residents. "Alright, let's help them."

"Yeah, I think I can shoot this one," he replied, trying to get closer to his target as he reloaded the gun. Avoiding other people wasn't so easy now, but he risked it anyway and managed to shoot the zombie in the neck. "Fuck! Missed his head!" The creature that once was a young man was now charging in Skyler's direction, its milky eyes focused on him as it pushed past other residents. "God fuckin' dammit, too many people!" He stood there, stubbornly waiting for an opportunity to shoot the zombie even if it would be too late for a safe dodge.

A new guy or not, Zach wasn't going to just stand there and let someone die such a stupid death. He shifted his focus from another zombified resident to the one that was so determined to get Skyler, and he launched himself onto one of the tables, the knife he was holding piercing the creature's neck, the metal penetrating the flesh. Unfortunately, it didn't go deep enough to permanently kill the zombie. It fell to the ground in sporadic convulsions, but its heightened survival instincts helped it figure out what the problem was, reach the knife, and remove it from its neck. It struggled to get up and managed to limp away until it was able to run again, but Zach had seen none of it. His eyes were on something else.

Courtney. She was lying there on the ground, motionless, covered in blood. This sight made him swallow hard as he slid off the table, running towards her as if the whole diner went quiet in a split second. His blood was boiling but his whole body felt cold at the same time. Only when Zach kneeled beside Courtney's body did he realize that a good part of her skull was now missing from the shot. The very gunshot he had heard back in his condo, the same that made him run downstairs. Unable to make a sound or even breathe, Zach cradled her in his arms, deaf to any sounds around him. The longer he held her, the more the reality sunk in, until he started weeping into her neck, his body jerking in a desperate fight for air from time to time. The adrenaline and unbearable pain of his loss were now the only fuel he was running on. He straightened up a bit to put her head on his lap and, with shaking hands, took his hoodie off so he could hide her fatal injuries from everyone's eyes. It was then that he noticed someone's shadow hovering over them.

"The fuck was that, you let that fucker get awa-" Skyler stopped mid-sentence, realizing what must have happened there. It hit him hard and he was surprised at how horribly sorry he felt for the stranger kneeling on the ground, holding his dead friend in his arms.

His voice wasn't even breaking when Zach uttered the angriest "Who did this to her" in his whole life, and yet, it still sounded void of any emotions. He didn't look up or move until Skyler, quite reluctantly, started talking.

"Look, she'd turned and there was nothin' anyone could do, he had to and you fuckin' know it!"

"Who did this to her?!"

At this point, the whole diner had heard the question anyway, so Skyler pressed his lips together into a thin line and shrugged his shoulders. He knew he wouldn't be able to stop him; he had seen that rage before. "It's a terrible idea, man... Roman shot her but there was nothin' we could do to save her, or anyone else. Do whatcha want, but there was no other way. Our death rate's way too high for my likin' already."

[dysphoriaposting]

Toria's Pokemon Journey!

The gym with Katy was actually sorta strange, because I never realized she was the first one until I looked it up. I maaayyyybe accidentally was almost in Artazon when I checked a list and realized I was the wrong way, then I had to trek all the way back 😅 I had a complete Vivillon to sweep her with 😭

My first Titan with himbo wife was smooth as silk, as I was using the Ultimate Swamp Killer Clodsire 👌

After almost accidentally doing the gyms in the wrong order, I was sorta left permanently stronger than I should've been. So I personally blame the Internet that I cleaved through Grass Grimsley's Pokemon with a Vespiquen I in no way should've had.

Call me crazy, but does literally anybody not following the level guide do the Sky Titan fourth? It's so out of the way and, personally, I was flabbergasted that you're supposed to journey so far out from a relatively close-knit area you were given otherwise. That being said, two Lycanroc and Bombirdier felt more like a roast turkey.

I won't lie, I'm surprised it took this long to include a Team Star base in here, especially since you usually find out about the Villains in most games around the first gym. I want to say I had an easy time with Guillermo del Toro, but I'm pretty sure the Segin Squad car had Wicked Torqued my Hariyama into the sticks. Don't worry though, Echo (Floragato) was obscenely overpowered and then killed him in a single Razor Leaf.

Swept her with but a single Dugtrio (turns out you can Sucker Punch Mismagius effortlessly).

After my traumatic run-in with an extrovert, I was then thrown on the opposite side of the scale, where I was now fighting an introvert that would much rather run me over than speak to me. It's poetic, however, that these two extremes in human nature can be found in small white women.

At the pace I was going at, I was surprised I'd even made it here. I think I made finding Orthworm the most difficult possible, as I'm pretty sure I ran everywhere except the specific pit that red fuck lived in. But that's fine honestly, my Gigachad Garganacl fucking WALLOPED his ass, sent him with a heap of salt. And, to honor him, I then caught an Orthworm so as to not hurt its feelings.

I was really surprised to find that this was only the fourth gym. Was I really only halfway through the game?? This thing was DENSE. And I was HAPPY WITH IT. Poor old man though, I'm pretty sure I crunched him up pretty hard with my Pom Pom Oricorio.

Beating up theater kids has never been easier! Watch as I employ the use of one (1) Orthworm and wipe up all this toxic sludge in an instant! Call now, and I'll throw in the Hypno and Palossand that helped send all of this gayboy's entourage packing!

[liz-allyn]

shudder, part 3/6 [agent mobius x gn!reader]

You're undercover on a mission with the team, and Mobius' affinity for cowboy culture is making things unexpectedly difficult.

Part 1 | Part 2

Series Summary: Pre-Loki series. You are one of the most dangerous variants the TVA has ever recovered, but Mobius knows what makes you tick. Five times he made you shudder, and the one time you returned the favor.

Words: 1.6k

Chapter Warnings/Tags: Language, period/canon-typical gun violence, cowboy!Mobius (valid as a warning), mutual pining, flirting, fluffy and fun, at least one naughty thought.

A/N: let me know how you feel about longer chapters!

III.

The next time it happened, it was 1881, and you looked ridiculous.

Your clothes were too tight and the leather smelled like the cattle you were wearing was still alive. You didn’t get to pick your uniform for this mission, and since you were supposed to be deep undercover in an active timeline scenario where reset charges were not permitted, wearing a TVA-issued “Variant” jacket wasn’t going to work.

So now here you were, sweating your ass off in what would one-day become the Las Vegas desert, with your partner wearing a giant 10 gallon hat holding a revolver to your back. He definitely looked ridiculous, and you let him know that. But to be fair, it was almost... cute. Sort of.

Variant T-3051 was the target, this stagecoach robbery at gunpoint was the trap, a Skrull artifact locked in a safe was the bait. And you were technically also bait, disguised as the hapless hostage.

Mobius laid it on extra thick for this one; you were pretty sure he was enjoying himself.

“Easy does it, fellas,” he said in a honeyed voice. “Everyone move nice and slow.” With one hand on your shoulder and one hand on the gun trained on your back, he urged you forward with a gentle double-squeeze near your collarbone. It was a little secret communication between you two. “Keep your hands up where I can see ‘em, sweet thing.”

You struggled not to overtly roll your eyes as you lifted your hands slightly higher. You were 99% sure that Mobius had never held a revolver in his life and probably didn’t know how to fire one. The man’s idea of excitement is debating top historical time periods at lunch with you or fantasizing about jet skis. Or whatever he fantasizes about.

You glanced at the team around you, a mix of Minutemen led by B-15 - on a giant ass horse holding a rifle steady with only her eyes visible behind a black bandana, and a band of outlaw civilians who were T-minus 9 minutes from their destined massacre. The mission, simply, was that one of these people was not like the others.

U-91, also dressed as a Frontierland cast member, barked an order to hand over the chest or else. While he was monologuing on about whatever “else” was, you were scanning the group carefully waiting for the Skrull variant to reveal himself. Or you were, until—

“Hey,” you heard Mobius softly whisper behind you. You glanced to the side without turning around as he leaned closer to you. “Nice work infiltrating the gang.”

You could feel the heat of his breath on the side of your neck, and your stomach was doing something odd because of it.

“Okay,” you whispered back, trying not to move your lips. “Now is an inappropriate time to—”

“Where did you learn to ride a horse like that?” he exclaimed under his breath. “That was incredible.”

You weren’t sure if it was the anxiety of the situation, the harsh sun off the surrounding mountain range, or his praise that was making your skin flush.

“Um,” you softly replied, taken aback that he was actually impressed, “I mean- my aunt used to have this pony ride business. They’d do birthday parties—”

U-91 snapped at you, the talkative hostage, “Hey! I said shut up!”

Mobius reared back his grip on your shoulder and suddenly you crashed back into his chest. You cried out as he wrapped his arms like a vise around you.

“That’s right, I said shut your trap!” he hissed at you, playing to the audience around him.

It wasn’t often that he got to play the bad guy, but he gave it a valiant effort. You could feel the (hopefully) unloaded barrel against your back. He brought his other hand up to your throat, firmly squeezing, pulling a gasp from you.

He leaned into your body, pulling you tightly against him, as he dripped sugar-coated poison in your ear. “Not another peep outta you, ya hear?”

The first thought that sprang through your head was remembering your kink for authoritative bad boys.

Uh-oh, was the second, third, and fourth thought in your mind.

Your core was tight and you realized how heavily you were breathing when his grip loosened slightly from your throat, slipping down just a tad. You felt the warmth of his hand and resting on the skin of your chest. B-15 was already giving orders, but your brain wasn’t following the conversation anymore.

“Are you okay?” Mobius breathed in your ear. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You slowly exhaled the heat of your breath, shaking your head ‘no’ and ‘yes’ for some reason. You could feel your pulse thrumming in your neck and you knew he could feel it too.

“Did I scare you?” he asked, inquisitively. You could hear the edge of a grin in his voice.

Your brow furrowed. “What?”

“Did I scare you just now?” Your eyes darted back to the group of outlaws as B-15 began to round them up. You were definitely supposed to be paying attention to the mission, but all you could think about was how heavy his hand was on your chest. He could curl you into himself if he wanted to.

If he wanted to, and if you wanted him to, he could keep playing cowboy outlaws. He could steal you away from your bed in the middle of the night. Or maybe he could turn you in for a bounty and visit you while you’re locked in a jail cell, making you do favors for him in exchange for freedom…

Uh-oh.

He leaned in a little closer. You could feel the shadow of his lips at the nape of your neck. “I felt you shudder just now... Did you get scared?”

“No!” You replied, almost too loudly.

“Oh. Are you cold?”

“What? Why?”

“I mean, if you’re trembling and it’s not because you’re cold, and it’s not because you’re frightened, there must be some kind of reason, right?”

Your face was burning. You’re pretty sure it’s the sun. Heat stroke. You’re dying, probably, definitely, maybe.

You gritted your teeth. “Why. Are. We. Talking about this?!”

“It’s not me, is it?” he replied coolly, like taking a sip of bourbon and lemonade on a hot day. You could hear the smirk on his lips. “You’re not intimidated by me, are you?” His cast his eyes over your rosy cheek with a satisfied gaze. “Maybe I make you a little... nervous?”

“WHA’THUH HELL—?” A terrified twang rang out and you both were snatched out of the clouds. You looked up to see a green-faced cowboy, cow-Skrull? Skrull-boy? - hostile variant reach into the the side holster of one of his outlaw posse. As soon as the Skrull had his hands on his “partner’s” weapon, he shot his partner through the back, killing him (just a few minutes before his time).

Variant T-3051 was fast. As B-15 fired her rifle, he was already pulling another stunned outlaw in front of him as a shield. T-3051 raised his gun towards B-15 and fired towards her horse. The animal raised up on its hind legs, bucking her off.

“Take cover!” Mobius ordered, pulling you down with him, but there wasn’t much around.

T-3051 fired a shot blindly, striking U-91 in the arm. He dropped to the ground and crawled in a one-arm dash for cover.

In the chaotic confusion and fear, the other outlaws drew their weapons and began to fire on the TVA team and each other.

The horse that B-15 was riding began to trot off, trampling a fleeing outlaw. B-15 struggled to grab her weapon off of the ground, but T-3051’s boot dropped down on the rifle, pinning it beneath his foot. She looked up to see the barrel of T-3051’s gun pointed at her, sights trained.

You had already grabbed the single-action revolver out of Mobius’ hand. He reached for you, but you leapt out of hiding with his gun raised high.

You shot the gun out of the variant’s hand before he could fire. Stunned, T-3051 dropped backwards onto the ground as the other handful of living outlaws turned their attention towards you. With one hand rapidly pulling back the hammer as the other hand steadied your aim and squeezed the trigger, you knocked them down like bowling pins.

A few shots later and it was over. T-3051 attempted to crawl towards the stagecoach, but B-15 leapt on his back and collared him. With a push of the button, he was frozen in time.

“Target acquired,” she stated into a radio, winded from the skirmish.

Mobius jogged towards U-91 as he pulled himself to his feet. He deftly inspected the Minuteman’s injury. “U-91 is injured,” he reported into his own communications device. “Alert the infirmary. B-15?”

“All clear,” she nodded.

Mobius’ eyes searched the area frantically until they rested on you. You walked up to the safe as B-15 retrieved the alien artifact - a twisty, metallic, (oddly) phallic-shaped thing.

You snorted. “This is the bomb that could rip a planet in half?” you asked incredulously.

If you didn’t know any better, you thought you saw the tiniest smile on B-15’s lips. She radioed in, “Artifact is secure.”

Grinning with an amused chuckle, you glanced over and spotted Mobius gazing at you proudly, watching the sun rise and set in your smile. You felt your cheeks flush, dropping your eyes to the ground and biting your lip. God, this was bad. He could not look at you like that.

“Incredible,” you heard him breathe.

Part 4

A/N: Did you like it? Reblog & let me know! Also seriously, I feel like my chapters are getting long. If that’s a bummer for anyone, please say so.

@aloyssia @generalhugzzz

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Into The Unknown, Part 5

First

Previous

Tim finished up pretty quickly.

After all, all the baby toys seemed to just be different variations of each other. Some crinkle, some make sounds, some squish, some… do nothing at all? Tim had no clue how he used to get by as a kid.

He ended up getting Damian three toys:

A tiny rubber duck. He’s almost completely sure that Marinette would have bought one if Tim hadn’t. At least when he was the one buying it he could opt to get the Darth Vader one (Damian had always been woefully uncultured, this was his one chance to make the kid watch sci-fi without risking getting stabbed).

A plush cow with crinkly ears. He had to hope that this could maybe jog memories of Batcow and, in turn, everything else. Tim had tried to think of something a little more relevant but all he could think of were things related to Batman, to Superboy, to the League of Assassins (did their lives really revolve around vigilante-work that much?)... and, unfortunately, this reality didn’t have merch that he could give the kid.

And a squishy plastic baguette. Because that was all he could think of to get back at Marinette for the duck thing.

When it came to little kid books he hesitated for just a bit before getting the basics -- stuff like animals and the letters and Spot The Dog. He wondered, vaguely, if he’d have to teach the kid numbers since they already used the Arabic numeral system. He got a book on it just in case.

Then he got a couple of books on parenting.

He checked out and then walked back to the sitting area where he was supposed to meet Marinette.

… she was taking forever.

He sighed quietly and skimmed through a book on parenting.

… oops they were supposed to breastfeed until Damian was about two. No clue what to do about that. Maybe the kid was already used to a bottle? He hoped so. He’d watch him more carefully while Marinette was holding him to see. In the meantime, he’d get a bottle and some formula on top of the baby food they’d been getting so far.

Alright so the kid was supposed to learn behaviors and language through observation. Good. That, hopefully, solved that problem. Tim probably would have just given the kid a textbook and said ‘good luck’. Marinette… he didn’t really know what Marinette would have done, but the woman wasn’t a teacher as far as he could tell and asking her to teach the kid properly was a little unfair.

Babies around his age are supposed to speak in something called… protowords? Like… a baby language? Damn, he has a miraculous and it seemingly allows him the power to understand every language but apparently ‘baby-speak’ didn’t count as a language. Tim called bullshit.

He felt a weight settle down on the bench next to him and absently glanced over.

Marinette sent him a slightly tired smile. She was wearing a new, dark red scarf.

He opened his mouth to say something only to have her shake her head and adjust her scarf a little to show him something.

Ah. It looked like Damian had fallen asleep on her shoulder so she’d fashioned the scarf into a makeshift baby sling.

“Could’ve used the stroller,” he whispered, setting his receipt in the book to mark his page.

She snorted. “And risk waking him? He cries every time he wakes up, I’m not dealing with that right now.”

He bit his lip. “You know… this book says he’s supposed to cry for, like, an hour to an hour and a half a day.”

She tipped her head to the side a little. “He’s cried like… three times.”

“Yeah, and he was really easy to shut up. Decidedly not normal.”

They looked back down at Damian, identical frowns on their faces.

“Does it have an explanation for why he’d be like this?” Marinette asked, her voice soft.

Tim hesitated.

“The only reasons I can think of are that he doesn’t think we’d help him if he cried or he thinks crying is something he’d be punished for. Considering how he was raised… it could be either. Or both.”

~

Marinette yawned as she sat back on the hotel bed. She leaned back against Tim, leaving him to bear the weight of both her and Damian.

He, to his credit, barely even blinked. He turned slowly until they were both leaning back against each other.

She tipped her head back to rest on his shoulder.

She could fall asleep like this, she thought. Propped against Tim. Damian, in her arms, watching an episode of something called True and the Rainbow Kingdom… it was nice.

Or, at least, it would be if Tim could stop that infernal tapping.

“Ugh, could you stop that? Some people actually sleep.”

He gave a tiny puff of laughter that acknowledged that he heard her but, alas, he continued typing.

She groaned a little and reached a hand behind herself to give him a tiny bap to his side.

“Hm. This may shock you, but hitting me really hasn’t helped your case.”

She huffed and twisted around to try and see over his shoulder. She’d given up on sleeping, anyway.

“What are you even doing?”

He shrugged just slightly. “Trying to figure out what to do about money.”

She nodded slowly, looking over his shoulder as he scrolled through jobs they could do with zero experience or degrees. That could sustain a family of three and pay for the daycare they would have to take Damian to. The options... weren’t great.

Damian tugged on her shirt for her attention and she looked down as he pointed at his screen with a bright smile. There was a black cat on the screen. She didn’t really know what he wanted until he kept saying ‘ma’ over and over. She nodded and said ‘cat’ in both Arabic and English, which seemed to sate him as he went back to watching… the giant green yeti monster stealing a basket of candy? What the fuck was even going on on this show? Were kids’ shows like this in her own world, too? Or was this one’s shows just especially weird?

A thought occurred to her and she looked back over at Tim.

“You exist in this world, right?”

He nodded absently and opened a tab that, despite its claim that it was an entry level job, apparently required two years of experience and a degree. He closed it quickly.

“Why don't we just mooch off of the other you?”

Tim sighed. “Because that’s illegal?”

“You’re a vigilante. I don’t think that ‘borrowing’ money from your alternate self is where you should draw the line on illegal activities.”

“I draw the line when it harms innocent people.”

She laughed at that. “He’s rich. It’s not like he’s going to miss it. Think of it as… giving the money to people who need it.”

“You’re a regular robin hood,” Tim said sarcastically.

“I know. I’m so kind,” she agreed, grinning.

There were a few moments of silence.

Then, finally, he shook his head. “Even if we could somehow do that -- which I can’t guarantee because I’m not completely sure I could guess my passwords -- the fact that we’re in Texas… he’d notice.”

She shrugged. “Then let’s move back to Gotham.”

He blinked and finally looked up from the computer. “What?”

“We don’t have much of a life here, really, so why not move?”

He considered this for a while before sighing and flopping back on the bed. “Let me see if I can even get into the account. There’s nothing to say that I even have the same social security number here...”

She nodded her understanding and laid back next to him. Damian whined a little at the sudden displacement but just ran a hand up and down his back absently until he was watching his show again, completely silent as he stared at the screen. Now the main girl was reaching into her bag for a weird orb of light that was, apparently, sentient. Was this the Dora of their world? God help their children.

Speaking of helping their children...

She picked up a parenting book to read while Tim tried to guess his otherworldly counterpart’s passwords.

~

Tim managed to get in.

He rested his head in his hands, cursing quietly.

She glanced over and smiled at his slightly flushed face.

“What was the password?”

He grumbled under his breath.

This only seemed to encourage her more because she started nudging his shoulder, the soft smile morphing into a cheeky grin.

He sighed and took a moment to gather himself before looking over at her. “It’s… ‘<3Richard<3graysons<3little<3brother<3’.”

“... I don’t get it.”

“Good. So you can’t tease me about it,” he said, sticking his tongue out at her.

She scoffed. “That’s not fair.”

“Totally is.”

He set the computer down beside himself and stretched his achy old bones. He’d had a baby for approximately two days now and he could already feel the bad back setting in. Tomorrow he would have gray hair.

“I’m going to look it up if you don’t tell me.”

“... he’s a celebrity,” Tim said quietly.

Her grin wavered back towards that genuine smile for just a second before spreading into an even wider grin. She reached out and pinched his cheeks. “Awwww, Tim, that’s so cute --!”

“Shut up,” he complained, batting her hands away.

She snickered. “No. I’m going to write that password on your tombstone.”

“You’re assuming I’m going to die first.”

“I have an extended lifespan. You’re only going to have that for another fifteen years. After that? Unless I’m really stupid you’re gonna die first.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m going to find out how to be immortal now. Purely to spite you.”

She snorted. “Okay. Good luck with that.”

“Thank you.”

With that, he pushed himself up with a groan. “I’m going to get him ready for bed.”

She nodded her understanding and continued with her reading.

Damian whined a little when Tim tried to take him away from where he had curled up next to Marinette but that seemed to be more because he was tired and cranky than genuine distress.

Tim was the one to bathe him. It wasn’t a bubble bath, he wasn’t eager to repeat the previous night’s mistakes, but he did give Damian the rubber duck. This seemed to work for all of them, since Damian now allowed them to take him out of the bath as long as he got to bring his duck.

Marinette grinned when she looked over at where Damian was chewing on his rubber duck as Tim struggled to click the annoyingly difficult buttons of the onesie into place.

“Told you he would love it.”

“We both know that wasn’t why you wanted to get it.”

“And we both know you didn’t get that squishy bread-thing just because you thought he would like it, either.”

He smiled. “Maaaaaybe.”

The onesie finally allowed itself to be buttoned and Tim picked Damian up so he could get into bed.

Marinette frowned. “This book says we shouldn’t let him sleep with us every night. Says it creates a bad habit that’s hard to break.”

Tim raised an eyebrow at her but, reluctantly, carried the kid over to the crib so they could sleep separately.

“Fine. But I’m going to sleep before him so I don’t stress out all night.”

She snickered. “Fine. Fine.”

He climbed into bed, set a pillow between them, and promptly dozed off before he could get woken up by Damian whimpering through the night.

… Tim woke up a few hours later -- his body wasn’t quite used to sleeping through nights just yet -- to find that Marinette had brought the kid into bed with them again.

He smiled a little and moved the pillow out from between them. Even if Damian was currently too trapped in Marinette’s arms to even reach it, it was best to make sure it couldn’t happen.

Damian whimpered a little in his sleep again and Tim tipped his head to the side. He reached over and gently combed his fingers through the fuzzy little tufts of hair that the kid had so far. Damian relaxed.

Tim sighed and shifted in the bed until he was closer to Damian, then maneuvered through Marinette’s mess of limbs to press a tiny kiss to the top of his head. The baby smiled in his sleep and, though the kid couldn’t see it, he returned the smile. He rested an arm around the kid as well in hopes that it would keep the kid feeling safe before allowing himself to drift off.

~~~~~

Next

@nathleigh @peachmuses @unoriginalmess @hammalammadamdam @astrynyx @laurcad123 @927roses-and-stuff

[chilly-me-softly]

Are u going to do a part 3 to the chilly fic its so good <3

Part 1 - Part 2

"I did something stupid" you announce as soon as Mason opens the door to his house, walking in and heading for the living room as if you were at your house.

"You? When have you ever done that in your life" the boy rolls his eyes sarcastically as you glare at him. "This is no time for jokes Mason"

"Okay come here" he claps a hand on the couch after sitting down, inviting you to sit next to him so you don't go back and forth, "What happened"

"Do you promise not to judge?"

"Hmm no but I'm listening" he retorts immediately and a groan escapes your lips as you lower your head and start to doubt at that very moment that that is the right thing to do. But if you don't tell someone, if you don't open up to him, you're gonna go crazy. So you take a deep breath and do your best not to look at him.

"Do you remember how Ben helped me that day? Well I wanted to thank him so I brought him a cake"

"Okay" Mason states looking suddenly curious as to where this is going.

"I just- I used a big plate hoping he might bring it back. But he didn't! Ugh why am I so stupid" it takes him a few seconds to realize the meaning of your words, his body straightening up at the revelation while yours almost wants to get swallowed up by the couch in embarrassment.

"You like Ben? Since when?" but still, his tone isn't judgmental, if anything curious and shocked.

"Mase"

"What? You guys are always fighti- oh"

"What oh" you look at your friend lost as he seems to be lost somewhere in his memory before returning to look at you turning slightly towards you.

"Of course! How the fuck did I miss that" he murmurs, "you acted the same way with Tim Reese when we were sixteen"

"Okay first how do you still remember Tim and second what are you talking about?!" you ask somewhat shocked as he smiles mischievously ready to strike. Oh you knew it wasn't a good idea.

"You were always nervous when it came to him and then when he got close to you you became this impassable fortress of coldness and sarcasm. The poor guy had to sweat to even get a kiss"

"That's not true" you try to defend yourself in vain.

"I might be a little offended you know, you didn't even have a little crush on me"

"Please, you're like my brother ew" you wince as he laughs shaking his head.

"So that's how it is today, it all ends over a plate?"

"It was an excuse Mase" you roll your eyes, "if he wanted to see me again he'd know how to hook me up" in short you had even sent each other a few messages, just to test the waters not knowing how far you could go at the time. But your relationship had never been just about the two of you and there was always that fear of ruining that little step forward lurking.

"Maybe who knows, he needs some kind of push too. Ben isn't the cocky guy he wants to appear after all"

"You know something I don't Mase" you look at him inspectively, him raising an eyebrow. "I won't say anything about him if I can't do otherwise"

"No mh-mh forget it" you shake your head firmly, Mason could talk to you about Ben all he wanted no one would know and you still knew how to handle a rejection by acting like nothing happened. But Ben knowing about your feelings and not returning them... no thanks, you didn't need any more embarrassment in your life to deal with.

"Well then you'll never know what he thinks of you"

"What's he even supposed to think, that I'm a crazy person who always has a say in everything and out of pity helped when I was sick" you shrug as he smiles knowingly, he's never going to tell you how worried his friend seemed in the days following your illness or how he was trying to find out something under the radar. Not if he can't tell him that he might find the door open if he wants to join your world. But as sure as hell he would have done something.

-

You correct yourself. That's the moment you know it wasn't a good idea to tell Mase.

He had asked you a couple of times if you were going to watch the game that saturday, he always did that when there were tough games because he said you were his good luck charm even though it wasn't true and most of the time they won or lost regardless of your presence. However, you had already cleared your whole schedule for that day and so he had extended the invitation to a drink after the game.

Nobody had lost, nobody had won. There was regret for a few wasted chances, but nothing that couldn't spur them on to do better the next game. You'd driven to the stadium in your car, not wanting to wait for Mason after the last time he'd made you wait over an hour outside, having him tell you where he wanted to go after the game and waiting for him there.

The place isn't that crowded and you can occupy a table further away, ordering something while you wait and taking the book out of your bag while resuming your reading.

"Hi" a voice makes you shift your gaze from those pages and you're bewildered to see Ben take a seat in front of you.

"Hi Ben"

"Mase said he'd meet us in a bit, he had something to do" the boy shrugs, "but I'm certainly not going to wait for him to order"

"Go ahead, I've already helped myself" you place the bookmark on the page you are on then put it in your bag and before you can let your eyes rest on Ben again, your phone alerts you to the arrival of a new message.

As soon as you see that it's Mason you get a bad feeling, and as soon as you open your conversation you see that he has sent you a picture of a diner where he is with some of the other guys. And it's definitely not the one you and his teammate are in.

"Son of a bitch"

"What?" Ben's voice makes you raise your head in alarm, suddenly you feel nervous and you want to strangle your friend and you want to bury yourself because what are you gonna do now. All while he looks at you expectantly.

"Um eh I- that wasn't meant for you" you murmur pathetically sighing and handing him your phone, "Mason's not coming"

"I don't understand" Ben looks at that picture with furrowed brows, but you can't read his expression.

"Look I'm sorry he set you up for this really. Um we can go and pretend like nothing happened" you stammer trying to pick up your bag and jacket deliberately trying not to look him in the eye and you try to get up but he stops you.

"Woah hey wait, wait. I'm not letting you go anywhere so upset" he is quick to grab the chair and move closer to you, if he wanted to calm you down he certainly isn't succeeding like this.

"Easy now, just try to explain what's going on please"

"Ben really it's not- it's just Mason okay? I just need to beat him up and then I'll be better" a soft laugh escapes his lips and you find yourself huffing but giggling at the same time.

"Nothing wrong with that. Just answer one of my questions first?" you nod losing focus for a moment as one of his thumbs starts stroking the back of your hand.

"He tried to set us up"

"Is that a question?" you ask struggling to swallow, your voice coming out weak and shaky. What's going on?

He shakes his head slightly, "Do you like me? That's my question" and if before it was difficult to find air now it seems like everything has closed for good. There you go, is that how you're going to die? In front of Ben of all people, and still before you can get revenge on Mason for that low blow?

"Cause Mason probably knows I fancy you-"

"You what?" you croak.

"-but he wouldn't have done that if he didn't know something else" his cheeks are slightly red, so he's feeling all that sudden heat too then!

"Ben I..."

"It's okay, it's okay. Look we're in the same boat here, if anything I'm a lot more exposed than you are at the moment because I've revealed to you how I feel and you haven't really let me know that I haven't really fucked up"

"No!" instinctively you lean forward and you don't know why you actually did it, but the sound of your foreheads colliding together resonates loudly. "Ouch I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Oh my god are you okay?" geez you feel so stupid, embarrassed like a teenager struggling with her first crush and as clumsy as you've ever been... or don't like to remember.

"I've taken worse balls" he tries to lighten the situation but your now worried look doesn't seem to want to give way to anything else as you gently test his forehead.

"What do you say we get out of here? Maybe somewhere less crowded?"

"Yes please" you find yourself nodding and after paying quickly exit the building, Ben firmly takes your hand guiding you to the opposite side of your cars.

Neither of you speak on the way, you're lost in your head trying to calm yourself down to get your thoughts in order and not embarrass yourself further. He glances at you from time to time, what he is thinking you cannot know.

You arrive at the park and after a few more minutes of walking you sit down in a fairly secluded area except for a few people walking quietly on the stone path not far from you.

"You were pretty worked up in there" Ben breaks the silence.

"Being taken by surprise throws me off. Probably if I had known you were coming I would have been prepared, and imagined all the possible situations I might find myself in"

"Do you do this often? I mean do you never live in the moment?"

"Obviously I can't predict everything that's going to happen to me in a day, but the important things I like to know in advance so I can leave the anxiety at home and not risk headbutting people" a laugh breaks free in the air and when you look at him you feel lighter, nothing like the you of moments before.

"And to answer your question, yes I like you Ben. That day you helped me I think it helped me realise that"

"Funny, I realized it that day too"

"Sorry I must have looked like a weirdo" the awkwardness comes back overpowering again as he shakes his head moving closer to you some more.

"You were cute. Different from how you show yourself to others" you smile slightly dipping your teeth in your lower lip. "Now, do you still want to beat up Mase?"

"You betcha" you reply promptly causing him to laugh, "but not right now"

[beauregardlionett]

i think i might understand the concept of home

AO3 Link

Yasha’s car had broken down on the side of the road in some tiny town she only meant to pass through. She hadn’t even read the welcome sign half-a-mile back, so gods knew where she was. Thankfully, there was a shoulder and a sidewalk, so she wasn’t stuck in the middle of traffic. She had the hood popped and stared helplessly down at the tangle of mechanics she did not understand.

Nothing was smoking, so she figured that must be a good thing.

“Need a hand?”

Yasha glanced up, catching sight of a woman standing just outside the coffee shop Yasha broke down in front of. She stood defined in the sunlight, composed of sharp lines and lean muscle, contained by planes of smooth, coffee-colored skin. She had on a simple grey sports bra under denim overalls littered with stains and distressed patches torn in random places on the legs. Her hair was in a low bun sat over what looked like an undercut all tucked messily beneath a backward cap.

Damn...she was hot.

The woman cocked an expectant eyebrow, reminding Yasha she had yet to answer.

“Oh, um...yes?”

Hot Lady smirked and stepped off the curb to stand at Yasha’s shoulder, leaning over the open hood and inspecting the mess. Yasha was busy inspecting the tanned slope of neck to bare shoulder, all of her quite a sight in the midday sunlight.

Gods, was that a tattoo on her back?

With abrupt yet easy precision, Hot Lady hauled herself up onto the lip of Yasha’s truck and shoved her hand between various pieces of metal. Startled, Yasha looked down at the engine, hoping she wouldn’t have to call emergency services for a hand lost in her car engine.

“The alternator might be shot,” Hot Lady said, squinting as she moved her hand around a little.

“What does that mean?” Yasha managed, only a little strangled.

“Means you need to get your car into a shop because you aren’t going to have much luck getting far without it.” Hot Lady removed her hand and gave a little hop back down to the pavement. She wiped her hand carelessly on her overalls and shrugged a little.

“It’s not a super challenging thing to fix, but it will take a minute. I can point you to a good garage if you need.”

“That would be very helpful. Thank you...um...”

“Beauregard,” the woman said, sticking out her hand with a grin. “Call me Beau.”

After hesitating a moment, Yasha grasped Beau’s hand and gave it a tentative shake, cheeks warm. Her face flushed even warmer when Beau raised her eyebrow again, clearly waiting for Yasha’s name.

“Yasha,” she blurted, horrid awkwardness muddying her chest. “I’m Yasha.”

“Nice to meet you, Yasha,” Beau said as she slowly took her hand back. Yasha already like the way her name sounded rolling off of Beau’s tongue - perhaps far too much for someone she just met.

“You might need to shack up somewhere for the night,” Beau said, pulling her phone from her pocket and texting someone. “Depending on how long the garage takes with your car. I haven’t seen you ‘round here before. You got a place to stay?”

“Oh...no,” Yasha managed. “I’m just passing through.”

“Well, I texted my buddy over at the garage to come get your car. He’ll be here soon. There’s only one hotel in this town, and to be honest, it sucks. My buddy Caleb moved most of his stuff out of his apartment, but he hasn’t turned the lease over yet. He got a big wig job two hours from here and they had him start early, despite the fact he still had a month on the lease. You can crash there if you want. I’m pretty sure he left his mattress.”

Yasha blinked, dazed and flabbergasted at the turn this conversation had taken.

“I...what?”

Beau looked up from her phone, fingers pausing in their rapid texting. She seemed to take in Yasha’s stunned expression and grimaced slightly.

“Sorry, that was a lot all at once.” Beau tucked her phone away and crossed her arms over her chest. Yasha recognized the defensive tactic attempting to look casual with ease. She performed that move often enough herself.

“This ‘helping’ thing isn’t my forte - more Jess’ thing. But uh...yeah. If you need a place to stay, you’ve got one. Promise there're no strings attached or anything like that.”

“But...you don’t know me.”

“True,” Beau shrugged. “But it’s not like there’s anything to steal from Caleb’s place. It’s basically an empty apartment he’s not getting anything out of. Might as well put the place to good use.”

“Okay,” Yasha said after a moment of strange quiet. What else was she supposed to say?

Beau blinked up at Yasha, then grinned, wide and delighted. “Cool.”

A few minutes later, a tow truck pulled up. Beau greeted the driver enthusiastically as Yasha watched on, wondering what she had gotten herself into.

--

“This is it,” Beau said, shoving open the door with her hip as she wrestled the key out of the lock.

Yasha followed Beau in, fingers curled tightly around the strap of her meager duffle bag. The apartment was near barren, as Beau had said. It had a small living area that faded seamlessly into a kitchenette. Down a short hallway appeared to be a bedroom and bathroom, both doors open. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. The only sign someone had recently been occupying the space was the old mattress just visible through the bedroom door and the sagging sofa in the living room.

“Sorry there’s no food in the kitchen, but there’s a store about a block from here if you’re up for a walk. I’d hang around but I have to get to a class.”

Yasha twisted to look at Beau, something bubbling up in her chest that felt a lot like gratitude and a little like something indescribable. She watched as Beau fiddled with her key ring, only realizing what was happening when Beau pulled a key off and tossed it to Yasha. She just barely managed to catch it and not make a fool of herself.

“That’s the key to the door for ya. And,” Beau pulled a crumpled, folded piece of paper from her pocket, holding it out to Yasha. “My number, in case you have questions or you need anything. I’m a night owl and an early riser, so chances are I’ll answer whenever.”

“Thank you,” Yasha warbled after a long moment, clutching the key so hard the grooves of its identity imprinted into her palm. The notches stung like she would never forget their shape. “I mean it. This is...a lot.”

Beau rubbed the back of her neck, scuffing the toe of her sneaker against the worn floorboards. “It’s nothin’ really...”

“No,” Yasha insisted. “It’s a lot. Thank you.”

Beau’s gaze met Yasha’s intense stare, her bright blue eyes wide as they took in Yasha’s sincerity. A handful of seconds stretched into eternity before Beau ducked her head, rubbing at the back of her neck.

“Yeah...sure.”

Yasha was getting the impression she wasn’t the only one completely out of her depth in this situation.

“I’ll come around tomorrow with updates...bye.”

Yasha watched her duck out the door, disappearing down the hallway before she shut the door behind Beau and clicked the lock.

--

The garage had Yasha’s car fixed and ready to go after two days. Yasha was still in town three months later.

In all honesty, she’s not sure how it happened.

The night she planned to leave, Beau had swung by and insisted on seeing her off. They ended up at a diner, tucked into a booth, talking like they actually knew each other. Next thing Yasha realized, it was nearing midnight, and they were being asked to wrap up so the diner could close. The chef had called to them from the window, an older looking man with bright pink hair who gave Beau a knowing look and a wink.

Somehow, that unplanned extra night turned into months. Yasha had taken on the lease from the absent Caleb for his apartment. She found a job at the local florist, a job she quietly enjoyed. The gravity of her situation only set in after she bought sheets for the mattress.

She met Jess - real name Jester, or Genevieve, but Yasha couldn’t sure - a bubbly girl with deep blue hair and the sweetest attitude ever. Her fingertips were permanently paint stained, and she left hastily sketched dicks everywhere she went. Yasha also met the tow truck driver from the first day, a guy named Fjord. They were a weird mix of individuals, but somehow they got on just fine. They ate dinner together every Thursday night at the same bar owned by the guy who tended the bar - one of those small town things. His name was Mollymauk - Molly for short and sometimes they instead of he - with inordinately purple hair and makeup to match.

Yasha never really spent a lot of time in her apartment. She didn’t see the point, not when she had access to the florist shop, or the diner, or anywhere else with Jess, Fjord, Molly, or Beau. Especially not when Jess’ apartment she shared with Fjord was so much warmer, much more like a home.

It took three months before Beau stopped mid-sentence of a story and blinked at Yasha over their pancakes in the diner.

“This is probably a stupid question, but did you have somewhere to be?”

Yasha looked up, confused. “Right now? Uh...no? My shift at the shop doesn’t start for another three hours.”

“No, no, I meant like outside this town. You told me you were passing through, before.”

“Oh,” Yasha set down her fork and looked out the window. Her chest felt tight. That afternoon seemed like a lifetime ago - a whole other person ago. “Not really.”

“Do...uhm,” Yasha looked over at Beau to find her pushing her food around her plate awkwardly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

This was difficult for both of them. If Yasha had learned anything in her time here, it was that they both struggled to convey their emotions eloquently. But that Beau tried meant everything to Yasha. The least she could do was meet her halfway.

“I was running, and I didn’t know where or when I would stop. But I guess this place is where I’m meant to be.”

“Why were you running?” Beau stared at her, gaze intense in a way Yasha found endearing. She watched like nothing else in the world could distract her.

“I...I had a wife. And I lost her rather abruptly almost six months ago. I tried to stay for a while, to keep what we had built together, but I wasn’t strong enough. So I ran and hoped that I would find something worth staying for again before I fell off the world.”

Beau stared at Yasha openly over their half-eaten breakfast, eyes wide.

“You stayed here. Does that mean you found something here?”

Yasha looked at Beau, at her messy bun and her undercut that needed a fresh shave. She took in the puddle of syrup, slowly saturating Beau’s pancakes and the half gone pile of bacon. Beau’s cellphone sat face down on the table so her attention stayed on Yasha. She realized the baggy sweater Beau had on was one Yasha had misplaced almost a month ago. Yasha lost her breath at the butterflies that fluttered to life in her stomach.

“I think so,” Yasha breathed, tethered and unhinged all at once.

--

They didn’t talk about it, because of course they didn’t.

But two weeks after their pancake conversation, Beau invited Yasha out for a night on the town. There were only two bars with decent night life here, and Yasha had been to both of them exactly once during her time here. (The daytime trips to Molly’s bar didn’t count, of course. She had only been to their bar for the night life once.)

She met Beau in the middle, and they walked together the rest of the way.

Beau had gotten her undercut shaved tight again, but it was hidden with the way her hair spilled loose and long down her back. She had a cobalt lace crop top on - the one with the built-in bra. The way it showed off the definition of her muscles was doing things to Yasha. The black cigarette pants didn’t help either.

A few drinks and way too many EDM songs later - or maybe only a few? Yasha couldn’t tell them apart - Yasha remained upright from adrenaline alone. Somewhere between the drinks and the beat of the music, Beau pressed up against Yasha, wiry arms winding around Yasha’s neck as they danced. Yasha wasn’t much of a dancer in any regard, but she was just tipsy enough to not care.

Beau’s hips fit comfortably in the space between Yasha’s hands, and Yasha resolutely tried not to follow that train of thought. For no other reason than she didn’t want to ruin a good thing, and there was no way Beau felt the same.

Beau pushed onto her toes, shiny black boots creasing with the motion as her lace top rode up her enticing torso.

“I really want to kiss you,” Beau called over the heavy thrum of the base. Her voice nearly got lost in the din, but Yasha heard her. She couldn’t pretend she didn’t. The weight of her heart dropping into her stomach hit too heavy and real to ignore.

Fuck, she wanted to kiss Beau, too.

Yasha’s t-shirt stuck to random parts of her torso with sweat, a detail she was now hyper-aware of with how little space existed between her and Beau. The press of bodies around them was abruptly unnerving. So much so, Yasha wound an arm around Beau’s shoulders and steered them both free, ducking into the hallway that lead to the bathrooms as Yasha gasped for air.

Beau leaned her back against the wall for support, peering at Yasha with far too much clarity for someone who could barely stand upright.

“Are you okay, Yash?” Her voice was quieter now that they had moved out of the main bar, but the base still pounded like a heartbeat through the floorboards.

With more confidence than Yasha would ever possess in her life, she caged Beau in, a hand on either side of her head against the wall. As Beau stared up at her with unabashed awe, Yasha’s face warmed with flushed embarrassment.

“I want to kiss you so bad.”

“Then do it,” Beau said. It sounded like a dare, but she said it as if she were asking permission.

With a quick swoop into Beau’s space, Yasha pressed her lips to Beau’s with the barest amount of pressure. A feather-light, electric brush of a promise, a question, and an invitation. Yasha moved no closer.

Beau leaned in, and as far as kisses went, it was simple. Neither of them surged toward the other, or grappled for purchase to deepen the embrace. It was an easy press of lips, testing the waters despite the alluring tug of the tide.

Tipsy seconds later, Beau pulled back first with a soft gasp. Yasha’s eyes fluttered open, and she felt like a cheesy teenager when she realized they had closed without her knowledge.

“Do you want to do this?” Beau asked, voice soft and a little wrecked despite the chaste kiss.

Yasha, never one for many words, gave a quick nod and ducked back in. It wasn’t confidence, more like the beginning of a realization.

Beau held onto her, this time hands back around Yasha’s neck and fingers tangled deep in Yasha’s wild hair. Yasha took one hand from the wall to cup the back of Beau’s head, fingers sliding easily over the short hairs of Beau’s undercut.

It wasn’t a fireball kiss, but it tasted like the whiskey shots they had done half an hour ago. Beau’s lips were soft and a stark contrast to the way she kissed Yasha. It wasn’t falling stars and fire lit in her chest, nor was it a cosmic shift of puzzle pieces snapping into place. As before, it was a realization, a revelation of something that might have been there for a while.

Beau kissed Yasha back, and she thought about pancakes at the diner and memorizing the way Beau’s eyes scrunched when she laughed. Yasha rubbed her thumb over Beau’s jawline and Beau’s sharp grin burst to life behind her eyelids. A tug to Yasha’s hair reminded her of Beau offering to braid Yasha’s messy locks every time they all slept at Jess’ place. Beau licked into Yasha’s mouth and all at once, Yasha pictured her apartment. She saw the walls she had kept carefully bare, the sheets she had bought, but no other furniture. The echoing emptiness of a place abandoned for a better chance, and inhabited by the echo of who Yasha used to be.

And what did people say about echoes being louder in empty rooms?

Beau kissed Yasha, and Yasha realized she didn’t want to be an echo anymore.

Beau made her feel solid in a way that was undemanding. She merely held out her hand and asked for the pieces of Yasha that were real, the parts she was willing to share. She helped Yasha make them into a complete picture.

Yasha kissed Beau back with all the gentle strength she could muster through the weight of her epiphany and the whiskey.

This time, Yasha knew she found something worth staying for.

[ask-rp-devra]

With things in order the pair moved out of the barn, into the cold breeze that began to pick up through the morning. Val tagged along by peach’s side as per usual. They wound their way towards Greys home from home, a water type area, and the treatment plant for the drinking water on the island. You could just make it out down the road.

“don’t feel like you have to take them, but I suppose it saves us finding another place to rehome him...”

She shrugged as they walked, enjoying the view of the island. “I know. But it still won’t hurt getting to know the little one. You never know! We might just hit it off.”

Peach knew the Pokemon pretty well, and quite frankly it was difficult not to love him. They came to a halt outside the water treatment building, inside you could see Professor grey talking to a visiting trainer, busy with work.

“‘let’s try the side door.” The woman waved to Devra to follow her, round the side to a slightly overgrown entrance. You had to step on thorny vines and dodge nettles as you went but it was otherwise easy to get to.

Devra carefully stepped over the thorns as best she could, trying to keep from getting scratched. “I didn’t even know there was a side door. Guys you guys don’t use it too often with all the brambles.”

“‘we put it in for busy days, and it counts as a fire exit, though I’ll have to come back to clear the area a bit, this isn’t up to code.” She was annoyed it had slipped her off her plate, but she would get it fixed quickly. The growth was only one seasons worth, so nothing unmanageable. “‘I guess with grey using the big double doors, most of the time we don’t have to slink around the side.

The room beyond the door was a little small, it looked like a break room come kitchen, with a slender staircase up to one side, and a door at the back that from the layout you could tell lead into the main room with the pool and big doors at each end. Peach began to climb the staircase, coming up to a reasonably long space, a few plants, a desk, some chairs, and a large sleeping houndoom, monitoring several puppy Pokemon. Two growlithe, one darker in colour, a lillipup with a bright blue bow, a couple of poochyena, one striped a little at its legs, an electrike, and a Pokemon not a lot of trainers would have seen before. It’s body was stocky like a houdour, with the bright cream mane and fur of growlithe, a sweet looking hybrid of a momma arcanine, and the houndoom dad that guarded them all, one of Professor Greys older team mates, and a part of the household in the evenings. Peach gave a whistle and the lot came over to say hello.

Devra gasped excitedly when she saw the pack of puppy Pokémon. She knelt down right away and was soon swarmed by the little ones. She never got tired of dog Pokémon, being one of her favorite group of Pokémon for their use in herding. “Oh my gosh look at all of you!” She gave everyone attention in turn, then came to the hybrid. “Is this who you wanted me to see?” She squished her own cheeks as see looked the pup over. “He’s adorable!”

The messy ball of cream and black fur was a people Pokemon, he saw his chance to be adored and took it, jumping into Devra’s lap with a very playful expression.

“eeeeyup, he’s the runt of our last litter, a real character though, even if he is a little small at the moment. You can look after him leading up to the trip if you like, get to know him a bit. You two might like to travel together during the Tundra trip.”

Devra busied herself ruffling his fur and smushing his face as Peach talked. “Oh my gosh I’d love to get to know him! Just look at this sweet boy!” She looked up at the Professor as she pressed her cheek to the pup’s. “Does he have a name?”

He was lapping up the attention, some of the other Pokemon joining in with play. The older houndoom sat beside Peach overseeing the little ones, keeping them from getting out of hand with little huffs and looks.

“nope, he’s not got a name yet, we never got round to picking one.”

She flopped back onto the floor, always ready to be swarmed by puppies. “Well we’ll just have to fix that. Every big strong Pokémon needs a good name. Makes me feel special. Isn’t that right big guy?” She ruffled his cheek fur as she was licked in the ear by the lillipup.

“‘maybe time together will present you with an adequate name, there’s no rush to find one for him, can change them whenever you like now days.” The pups swarmed then dispatched to play with toys, leaving the hybrid behind with Devra where she sat.

Devra laughed as they went off, giving the little guy a good chin scratch. “I love him Peach. Will Grey be okay with me watching him?” She looked over at the houndoom and smiled. “I hope dad is okay with it too.”

“he was up here with the others because these lot were lol going to be potentially rehomed tomorrow. If you take him, it won’t make much difference, no one had a reserve or anything on the little guy. And as for dad?” She looked to the big guy who was quite old now, had had many pups, and was quite happy to see them go, he liked his peace and quiet when not out with his trainer. “‘Nah, this ones good, he’s Grey’s loyal bud, he doesn’t have a lot of time for child rearing most of the time, he’s only really here because he’s a good child minder.” The woman laughed a bit, that old fleabag of a houndoom was always lolloping around the house, making an excellent door stop or foot rest.

“we trust you’ll look after them, there’s not too much between them and growlithe, so you should be just fine care wise.”

Devra grinned as she hugged the little guy tight. She then got up and went over to the houndoom, kneeling down to be on eye level with him. “I promise I’ll take good care of your pup.” She then got up and turned to the little one, opening her arms and calling him over. He barked happily and leapt into her arms. She had a few more words with Peach before making her way back to her little world on the island.

[joontier]

“V” | part one

synopsis: You zinged. With the captain. Who was human. 

pairings: kim taehyung x female reader 

rating: R (18+) | genre: smut, fluff, angst, crack, minor angst (as of now) ,fantasy, (unknowing) enemies to lovers trope; captain! taehyung x vampire! reader, based off Hotel Transylvania and Girl’s Trip! | warnings: plenty of sexual innuendos, explicit sex) (groping, fingering, exhibitionism, 

word count: 13.1k 

g/n: im splitting this into a two/three shot because i really wanted to post this bc the coward in me is afraid that if i finish and post the whole thing this app might crash on me ajfoiawjefiajwfa n e ways, enjoy this first part and please let me know what you think! 

one. | two. | three.?

navi | m.list

Albeit recorded as one of the smallest countries in terms of area and population, the country of Tersnoa proudly boasts its multiple attractions and rich culture. As the nation’s economy depends heavily on tourism, Tersnoa is considered a hidden treasure amongst the genuine travelers - human and monsters alike. 

Santa Shelea - the monster capital of Tersnoa, is located beneath the lush woods of the small country, hidden to the human eye. Entrance to the city you grew up in is a privilege given only to monsters, though it wasn’t always like that. 

The city used to nurture human and monster liaisons, with relations surpassing mere diplomacy. Humans and monsters shared friendships that run deeper than their contrasts in physical attributes and their innate characteristics. It was a time when both parties realized they were so much alike in plenty of ways and respect was observed by all despite the differences in appearances and culture. Admittedly, monsters had more to sacrifice with these accords due to your more primal urges, but your kind made it work, for the sake of peaceful coexistence. 

The other party, however, did not seem to share the same sentiments for long. 

Santa Shelea was one of the few places left on Earth where monsters sought refuge as your kind of people were constantly drawn out of the places they used to peacefully live at by the humans themselves. You thought Santa Shelea was different - that these people you once even considered family wouldn’t push you away just like what the others did, but it wasn’t before long that the human citizens of the once-glorious city were going to change their minds. 

These selfish, pompous humans conducted an uprising to protest against the presence of monsters in ‘their’ land. It was an awful time to have grown up in, being called a ‘monster’ in all senses of the word, especially from those people you have even considered friends. The human citizens conducted an uprising in Santa Shelea, protesting the presence of monsters in ‘their’ land, ultimately disturbing the peace of the city. 

Humans burned your houses down to the ground, including your helpless mother in their supposed quest for peace. After having kept the harmonious liaisons for quite some time, your kind had gone back to your primitive instincts, fighting for your rights along with an army of beasts, hybrids, witches, and members of the undead. It was catastrophe epitomized, a day that no one wishes to relive. 

It isn't fair to say that the monsters emerged victorious when so many had perished, your mother included. Eventually, these mortal beings realized there were no match for formidable creatures and soon took their leave of the once prosperous city. Soon enough, humans became history to monsters and vice versa. 

Rebuilding your beloved city from scratch was no easy task, proving to be even more difficult with the agony that came with burying the past. To prevent any more man-made disasters in the future, the witches had agreed to cast a spell over Santa Shelea: that your city will forever remain invisible to the human eye. 

And it has remained such until the present, appearing as part of the picturesque mountain ranges Tersnoa has to offer. Far from the city and beneath the mountains of lush forestry, Hotel Tersnoa stands tall in the middle of Santa Shelea - the city where monsters thrive. If you could only speak for yourself, the city could easily pass as the eighth wonder of the world. 

Hotel Tersnoa isn’t the only legacy handed down from your great-great-great-grandfather (“G4 for short”, he’d offered one day, explaining that he had to ‘blend in with the now’). During the past millennia, he had also established a conglomerate of enterprises across the world. He’s even founded BloodHub, an international focus group centered on blood diseases and blood donations but you wouldn’t want to delve on the beginning and end of that. 

The responsibility of taking over the hotel had been passed on to your father since then and his ardency for the hotel was unparalleled, the bequest of the hotel has surpassed the original Hotel Tersnoa of which your grandfathers had initially envisioned it to be. Your father would spend hours on end surveying every detail, nook, and cranny of the beloved establishment, barking orders left and right. 

On top of being a father, he had busied himself with the responsibilities of a hotelier. Yet you knew deep down it was all but a façade to mask the void that your mother left in his heart. There were many nights you’d caught him staring into the distance in a secluded place, away from the hustle and bustle at the hotel. You loved your father dearly, wanting nothing else for him but the happiness he truly deserves. 

When you had turned of age, you insisted on taking over the hotel in your father’s stead. You knew that your mother’s passing had been a toll too great to bear for your father, especially in a place where he is constantly reminded of her. You wanted him to enjoy his life, to bring back the life in his eyes, however ironic it may sound as part of the undead. 

Your father had disapproved of the idea at first, reasoning out that it was too big of a responsibility to hand over. He’d told you that you were still young and he wanted you to enjoy your life while you still could. With your adamancy and endless prodding, you had finally convinced him to cave in. Besides, you’re pretty sure you’ll stay young for a long time.

As you have taken on the commitment of being the lady of the house, or hotel rather, your father spent his time moving from one place to another, taking on different identities so as not to reveal his real one. When you were just starting out with your duties as the new hotelier a few years back, he couldn’t leave you behind for a day, checking up on you every two hours just in case an emergency occurs. As if something drastic could happen when more than half of your customers are already dead. 

Years pass by and hourly check-ups became daily ones and then weekly afterwards, until he calls you from halfway across the world every once in a while, just to tease you if the hotel was just as great as he left it. You hadn’t actually seen him in a year, apparently ‘busy’ with his new business venture in Amsterdam.

That’s why when you pick up his scent nearby, you momentarily stop in your tracks. It isn't exactly unusual for your father to have impromptu visits, but you’ve learned that it’s highly unlikely for your father to drop by at such a time like this. 

He avoids peak season at Tersnoa like the plague, let alone a Friday the 13th special like today, in addition to the most anticipated week-long celebration of the hotel’s six hundred and sixty-sixth anniversary. Your father steers clear of times like these at all costs, always making up excuses to avoid the crowd and the stress that comes with it. So much for being the past manager.

You can’t really hold it against him, as it surely has been an arduous feat having run the hotel for almost two centuries. Even though you both laugh it off whenever you tease him about it, you know deep down he genuinely enjoys attending to his customers and making sure they get the best customer service. 

A scoff escapes your lips when you see the infamous Drac-cape nearing. You’re mildly tempted to ignore him altogether, not wanting to be involved with someone who wore something that has run out of style decades ago. Secondhand embarrassment is a thing, and it’s very real.

You have already lost count of the times you’ve told him to get rid of the ridiculous piece of clothing, yet he dismisses you every time, clinging onto the nostalgic feeling that comes with the cape. In consideration of your request, your father had gone so far as acquiring the services of a handful of stylists to make some alterations to the design, and you have to say you’re pretty impressed with the outcome. What else could you have said? The Drac-cape was old but gold. 

You’re about to greet him when a staff approaches you, holding out a folder with papers that require your signatures. Your father stands a meter away with a proud smile, watching you with fondness in his eyes. Once you finish with the papers, he calls out, “Ah, my princess,” arms wide open to greet you with a hug. He’s the first to pull away, hands still resting on your shoulders as he takes a good look at you. “You grow up so fast!” he says jokingly with a wide smile plastered on his face as he pinches your cheeks. 

There’s something off though, something suspicious behind that painstakingly dubious grin on his face. Smiling wasn’t something your father was fond of doing especially in public - too deep into portraying the character of the dark and brooding Dracula depicted in human children’s stories. Plus, your fangs sometimes get in the way, so smiling isn’t really a preferable option. 

Before you get the chance to ask about his sudden visit, another staff member approaches you, another folder in hand. Your father shoos you away before you object, dragged away by your duties for the millionth time tonight. 

“What is it now?” you ask the skeleton beside you, every sound of his movement resembling that of a marimba. “Your presence is being requested by Ms. Catherine at her party, Countess.” 

You’d almost forgotten your cousin Catherine had rented out the hotel’s rooftop to celebrate her engagement to her long-time boyfriend Jericho. You’ve already congratulated and apologized to her plenty of times prior to this day, already knowing that you won't be able to celebrate it properly because of the events being held at the hotel. With the hectic schedule you were running on, you just realized that you hadn't visited her all day. 

It had been a very long week, and you were tired to the bone, but the guilt of not being physically present at her party was gnawing at you endlessly. Almost reaching the point that you forgot your father was just in front of you mere seconds ago - and now he’s disappeared, again. 

Heeding to your cousin’s call, you decide to leave the area, leaving a puff of smoke behind you. You reappear the same way at the rooftop, just beside Catherine herself, who looked like she was hiding from someone, crouched behind a table. 

“Who are you guys hiding f-” Unable to finish your sentence with Cat shushing you, you crane your neck up a little, glancing at the others who were in similar dispositions. Weren’t they all too old to do this in an engagement party? Or was this a new trend Cat wanted to start? 

Your heart clenches nevertheless at the hilarious attempt to hide from whoever or whatever it is they were hiding from. It was quite the scene: an orange tentacle slithering its way to steal a cupcake by the buffet table, Barry Blob thinks he can camouflage as jelly, and Bigfoot was… well, let’s just say he was never meant for a game of hide and seek. The only monster one would have expected to be good at this was your uncle Griffin who was born invisible but he was always the one first spotted because he thinks wearing disguises like a hot pink wig (his choice of the day) would make him unnoticeable. 

And yet this is what they supposedly call ‘hiding’. 

“Is this the new norm during engagement parties? Hiding from the responsibilities of married life I see,” you suppress a snicker with your palm, and when Cat looks back at you to shut you up, she screams with such fright, alarming everybody on the rooftop. 

“Surprise!” Mandy Mummy, one of your closest friends, appears from the other side of the table.  

“You guys were meant to surprise me?” Your brows furrow. “Are you all sure? What’s the occasion?” 

Frankie Frankenstein emerges from behind the bar, throwing a suspicious look at you. “You’re kidding me, right?”  

You look at the others in the hopes of finding a hint behind what was really going on, but Cat beats you to it, extending her arms out as she beckons you closer, “I don’t know how a monster could possibly forget the day she was born, but we’re here now so, happy birthday my dearest forgetful cousin!” Cat gives you an extra slap on your ass in greeting. 

Realization finally hits you, reminiscing the short moments throughout the day that had hinted on your birthday. You did see a few of your staff nudge each other in your presence, but you only thought it was because they were hesitant to say something when they knew that it had been a hectic week so far, tight schedules and all. 

The rest of the crowd clear out, revealing themselves from their hiding places. Your father appears from one side, carrying a dangerously huge three-tiered cake. 

Mandy approaches first, narrowing her eyes at you, “Wait, you seriously forgot your own birthday?” Cat answers in your stead, “She did,” while she points a finger to her temple, reiterating her capability of subjective precognition to the rest of the group. 

“Uncle Drac! Can you remind me again how are we related?” 

“I wanted to ask the same thing!” Your father exclaims, grabbing a glass of champagne from a gargoyle waiter and trailing off to greet his friends. 

“Cat, you know I’ve been busy for so long, I don’t exactly have a birthday countdown every year to remind me of something that is...not really that significant.” 

“______, I know we’re practically dead, but that doesn’t mean you have to live like one.” 

“Why don’t you try living in my shoes then, hm?” 

“I would, if they were Valentinos.” Unable to rack your brain for a smarter response, you roll your eyes at her instead. The guests start singing happy birthday in chorus as they near you. The night continues on a light note, people wishing you another year of happiness and prosperity, likewise congratulating your cousin for her engagement and her soon wedding. 

As the conversation eventually moves on to wedding preparations, Frankie spills on the details of Cat’s plans for her bachelorette party. You weren’t so keen with the idea - not when this was the first time it had been offered by the people closest to you. 

Bachelorette parties were primarily a human thing - some sort of commemoration of debauchery as you had understood from Google when you had looked it up a few years ago. These kinds of celebrations weren’t exactly included in your traditions but judging by the photos you’ve seen online; you’re sort of glad this wasn’t classified as the norm in your world yet. 

Cocktail parties with half-naked bartenders? Masseurs drenched in vaseline? Topless butlers serving dinner? What was with having male nudity as the baseline for such an occasion? 

You didn’t think this was going to be a trend in the monster-verse anyways, as your kind comes in different shapes and sizes and these parties just might end up with one seeing a lot more than necessary. 

When you try to confirm the plans with Catherine, she just shrugs at you three, telling you all that it was going to be a surprise. You, Mandy, and Frankie groan in unison at her reply. 

“Impatient much? You still have the whole day tomorrow to pack your things.” 

“We’re going on a trip?! And you’re telling me about this just now? A day before our leave?!” 

“Yeap. How long does it take you to pack your clothes?” 

“Do you not realize that I have a whole ass hotel to manage? I mean it’s not like I don’t want to go but surely, all my responsibilities cannot be handed over in a span of twenty-four hours? Plus, our week-long six hundred and sixty-sixth anniversary special isn’t over yet! You could have at least told me two weeks ahead?”

Someone places a hand on your shoulder, and you look up to see your own father smiling at you. “You’re just like your mother, darling. Stop worrying so much!” 

“Exactly why I told him instead,” Cat raises her eyebrows at you as she points to your father. “Catherine’s right. So, I’ll be taking care of the hotel while you girls have some girly time by yourselves,” he says, taking a sip of his drink. 

“Are you sure you can handle Hotel Tersnoa?” Your father almost spits out the champagne as he looks at you incredulously. “Excuse me? Need I remind you who handed the hotel over to you?” 

“I know, it’s just… a lot has changed. We’ve expanded the hotel, there’s now a theme park, and a new island has just been opened… it can be a lot…” 

Your father dismisses your worries with a wave and a kiss on your forehead. “Nothing I’ve never done before. You’ll be back before you know it. What could possibly go wrong?” 

Right. Your father’s words echo in your head. 

What could possibly go wrong? 

“A cruise?!” 

You’d gone through hours of travel, your ass was hurting from the prolonged sitting, and Catherine had not once told you where you were headed, mouth zipped shut. And yet here you were, mouth agape in shock – the betrayal, the treachery, the deception.

Docked in front of you is a humongous white ship, honking its siren with all its might. You’re struggling with attempting to even comprehend the entire situation. Your cousin did not just drag you out of your hotel to another… hotel...on water. 

“Welcome to the Bermuda Triangle, where you’ll embark on a monster cruise of a lifetime,” announces a fish-man or man-fish creature clad in a sailorman’s outfit (well he was definitely a fish, but had the limbs of man). All your expectations for this trip had just been obliterated by a singular monotonous, unidentifiable being. 

“Psst. Why is your face like that? I heard the fare was astronomical!” Frankie whispers when Mandy squishes between you two, trying to get a brochure from a stall nearby.

Everybody knew Cat was more than willing to spend her money on anything she has set her eyes on (just like that exclusive collection of Hermes bags she has back home) and actively looks for other ways to spend her money (such is a costly cruise) so this trip didn’t surprise you as much as it did Frankie. You’re wondering though, how she found out about this cruise and why she intends to celebrate her bachelorette’s party here. 

If a disinterested man-fish was tasked to welcome its guests, well, you can tell there’s really nothing much to look forward to here. You just hope this cruise will give her money’s worth, or rather, at least half of it. 

“Hey! This looks amazing!” Mandy exclaims, flipping the colorful brochure over a couple times. “There’s even a waterpark, multiple dining options, bowling alleys, a theater…” 

“Sounds like everything you can do…at the hotel!” You can’t help the rising pitch of your voice by the end of your reply while your friends laugh at your indignance. Mandy and Frankie ignore your protests, while Cat whispers near you, “Wait ‘til you see the itinerary!” 

“Not you too?! Seriously though, I don’t get why you’ve chosen to do it here, instead of our own hotel…” you pout, head hung low. 

Cat pulls you aside, letting the other passengers move forward, “Listen to me darling, alright? All these months, years, all you did was work and work and work again, we barely had any time to hang out together just like the old times, so I figured a break from all your customer service shenanigans and let yourself be served for once. Take a vacation from running everyone else’s vacation. Is that alright with you?” 

Giving her an apologetic smile, you pull her into your arms for a tight hug. She wasn’t lying though when she said you had barely spent time with each other. Back when your father was still running the hotel, you’ve spent your early years always practically attached at the hip: from crying over your first boyfriends, through that emo high school phase, to pursuing several degrees, and to spontaneous trips halfway across the world when you were bored. 

“Plus, Jer and I intend to start a family as soon as we get married, so these girl trips won’t come by often all the more.” 

“You know I love you to the moon and back right? And will you stop making me feel like an aunt when I’m not yet one?! But, to be honest with you, that would be really cute though! Little you and little Jerichos running around… but you know, if Jer will come close to laying a finger on you, just say the word…” 

“We zinged, darling. You have nothing to worry about. Maybe you’ll find your zing on the cruise too.”

You roll your eyes at her fondly. As if. 

It doesn’t change the fact that you still have second thoughts about this trip. Begrudgingly, you climb up the stairs, sulking as you watch your friends and the rest of the group of the monsters huddle in excitement as they ‘oohed’ and ‘aahed’ at the cruise’s features.

When you spot a few of Hotel Tersnoa’s beloved patrons in the group that arrived with you, your heart sinks a little, refusing to believe a fancy cruise could ever question their loyalty to the greatest monster hotel known to your kind. Guess nothing ever truly lasts, even with the undead.

You had initially expected the ship’s interiors with no sort of identity at all, resembling an array of badly mixed cocktails, individually appealing yet when put together looks like a lousy rainbow (you swear it’s not the spiteful hotelier inside you that’s speaking). Much to your chagrin though, the imaginary cruise you had inside your head was definitely not the case at all.

The rest of the monsters behind you continue to marvel at the cruise ship. And, quite frankly, you too are quite impressed yourself, as much as you hate to admit it. You’d never though such modern, minimalistic styling could fit a hotel on water but this cruise just seems to carry it pretty well.

The moment you set foot on the carpeted floors of the cruise, you’re awed at what seems like a celebration of the beauty of mother nature with nearly all furnishings made out of organic materials and colors exhibiting earthly hues. To add to the experience, preserved palm tress line the corridors and chandeliers made of LED lights litter the varnished high ceilings. It was like land on water – if that made any sense at all.

Man-fish continues to lead your group through the hallways, until you arrive at the main deck, just as picturesque as shown on the brochure Mandy held onto earlier. You were starting to realize why your cousin was into this whole cruise.

The creature half your height goes on to share a little history on the cruise ship – known as the Legacy. Similar to your hotel, cruising lines was also a family business for decades but it was only this year that the owners decided to extend the lines from taking human passengers to making a whole ship exclusively for monsters.

As this was the vessel’s maiden voyage and with your group being the first batch of guests to ever board the ship, a welcoming event was to happen tomorrow night, and the creature mentioned something about having the official invites placed in your rooms along with your luggage.

Right on cue, the moment you lean on the railing to overlook the deck below, a marching band appears from the side – a whole parade of man-fishes clad in band uniforms and red and gold. There’s even a few of them who start doing acrobatics, the sight of which has Frankie giggling to herself as she comes up with the term ‘fishcrobats’. She claims she’s the punniest monster in the universe.

The lights on the deck dim suddenly, and bright bursts of color start shooting up from a deck above you, fireworks lighting up the evening sky. It was a breathtaking display, with the others spiraling upwards while the rest exploded into a thousand more sparks. The display continues for a few more minutes, until the band makes a drumroll and a spotlight moves across the length of the ship and points at someone across the deck.

“Woah…” Mandy gapes, words drawling out to a low whistle. “Who. Is. That.”

A man in an all-white dress uniform emerges from the upper deck. “Ahoy there! Welcome aboard! Bienvenido, Zdravstvuyte, Guten Tag, Bonjour! I am V, captain of the Legacy…” Applause follows as the fireworks die down completely. “And yes, I’m human, but don’t hold that against me.” The captain’s eyes scan the crowd until they meet yours. He winks.

As soon as the blonde-haired captain looks away, Frankie squeals in your ear. “He totally just winked at you!”

“No, he didn’t,” you retort, never having been so grateful for not having a pulse, else Frankie would have your heart beating out of your chest.

“Yes, he did.”

The two of you were about to start bickering about the wink when the captain continues, “I’m very excited to have each and every one of you onboard for our very first monster cruise!” As unusually graceful as nobody else could probably do, he slides down the railing of the stairs as if he were just gliding through thin air.

“You’ll enjoy gourmet dining, thrilling adventures, and non-stop entertainment – all on our way to our final destination: the lost city that isn’t lost anymore – Atlantis!”

Your jaw drops – not because Atlantis had ‘apparently’ been found, in fact, it was never lost in the first place; they just cut ties with surface dwellers because of damage brought about by water pollution. In your defense, it was the humans were uncontrollable with their despicable habits but you can’t really put the blame on the Atlantians. It was their home after all, and they only wanted to protect it. Just as you would with Tersnoa.

What truly surprised you though, was how he managed to snag a partnership with them when you had vying for one since you took over the hotel. Well, your business proposition was never officially offered on the table, but still! Perhaps, if you made an entrance as grand as him, you would have succeeded though.

It was getting crowded where you stood, and Mandy tugs at your hand, pulling you down to the lower deck. Begrudgingly, you go down the stairs, sulking as you watch your friends and the other monsters huddle in excitement. You even recognize a few of the other passengers who are likewise patrons of Tersnoa. Or at least they were, now. Guess nothing truly ever lasts, even with the undead.

He reaches the lower deck in no time, greeting the other monsters with a wave and a smile. When he nears and you get a better look at him, you feel your entire body shudder – in a strangely delightful way, wave after wave of this electric feeling reaching until the very tip of your toes.

It feels as if every vein inside of you is pulsating, despite being practically dead. You felt…alive. A million thoughts rush through your head, with your gut feeling telling you something that is almost unmistakable. You have never, ever felt this way before but your intuition tells you this is the exact embodiment of the stories you’ve heard so many times in your lifetime. Could it be? Was it even possible?

The sensation was inexplicable, foreign too, yet it felt right. Like… like it was meant to be, perfectly destined in the most peculiar of ways. Digging through your purse, you retrieve the small mirror inside made specifically for vampires. Taking a quick glance of your reflection on the glass, you take notice of your irises that have turned purple, almost lavender in color. Gulping, you return the mirror into your purse at once, confirming your suspicion.

You zinged.

With the captain.

Who was human.

Frankie nudges your shoulder when she notices you stiffening beside her. “Is everything okay?” You feel your friend’s blue, stitched hand land on your shoulder. Giving Frankie a short reassuring nod in response, she shrugs it off, not before hearing her mumble about noticing something different with your eyes. Thankfully, the manifestation of the zing comes in different ways with every monster specie, so Frankie wouldn’t get the hint that you’re in deep, deep trouble.

Years of listening to stories of your culture and traditions rush to your head, all with the same words resonating throughout your brain. ‘It can make you cry; it can make you high; but, one thing a zing never does is lie – for it stays with you until you die.’

Shaking your head, you attempt to rid your thoughts of this man. He shouldn’t be your zing; he can’t be your zing. This was a huge mistake. The must’ve made a mistake. How could the very kind of people who murdered your own would also be the one designated for you – a soulmate, in human’s terms. You don’t even know how you're supposed to react to such a thing. Was it a curse? A blessing perhaps?

You continue to watch the man in silence. Sweet baby Jesus, the visuals this man was bestowed with. Maybe the man up there was real after all, and he had spent all seven days to craft this ethereal being. Even if he was meters away, his mere presence already makes you weak in the knees – considering the fact that you really haven’t officially met the person.

With his almost unrealistic face, you’re left wondering if your bodily reactions were caused by your zing or the captain really holds such prowess over creatures of all kinds. You wonder if it’ll be easy to forget your painful past and move forward? Trust the zing like all monsters do?

After promulgating the greatness of the monster population and how big of an honor it is for him to hold the first ever monster cruise, he also apologizes afterwards on behalf of his fellow humans for the mistreatment of your kind, drawing nearer and nearer to your group, eyes trained on you when he’s not busy welcoming the other monsters.

In an attempt to keep yourself from trembling, you clasp your hands together. Momentarily taking his eyes off you as he greets another guest, Mandy leans toward you and nudges your rib, “That, my friend, is what you call: a hottie. Go get him, tiger!” Blinking your eyes, you recollect yourself, giving her a dubious look, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Honey, anyone with a single working eye can confirm to themselves that the captain has been hand-sculpted by the gods themselves. And don’t tell me you don’t notice the bed eyes he’s giving you the whole time,” Mandy chortles bandaged shoulders bumping against your own as she does. “Deny it all you want now, darling, but I have this gut feeling that the love boat will be sailing very soon.”

Just then, as if on cue, the captain makes a beeline for your group, a small sultry smile playing on his lips. You feel like your insides wanted to crumble into sand and disperse into thin air. God, the things this man does to you…Rather, the things you want him to do to you. Now, your own brain betrays you with inappropriate thoughts and he’s currently in front of you looking like a whole course meal. He has such pretty eyes too and oh- this is bad. This is very bad.

“Ah, if it isn’t the one and only Countess Dracula,” he says, voice low as his eyes bore themselves into your soul (as if you still had one). “May I?” The captain takes your hand in his and gingerly places a kiss on the back of your palm. You’re rendered speechless by the small gesture, while the rest of your friends gape at the captain like he had suddenly grown three more heads.

“I’m known as V around here,” he keeps your hand in his, and you’re instantly all too conscious of everything – what if your hand was too cold for him? Or too clammy perhaps? All your worries are diminished when he doesn’t seem to take notice of any of your present worries, tugging you closer to him as he inches towards your face, warm breath fanning against your cheek, “but you can call me Taehyung.”

He pulls back just as slowly, sending you and your friends an innocent boxy smile. “Guess I’ll be seeing you lot around! Please enjoy the cruise. And remember, if there’s anything you need, feel free to approach me anytime.”

Walking away to attend to his captain-y duties, the three other girls gather around the moment he’s out of sight. “What. Was. That.” Catherine questions, punctuating each word with numerous blinks.

“I’ve already sent a prayer to Anubis to take care of our dear ______’s departed soul,” chimes Mandy, waving a hand in front of you in the hopes of taking you out of your shock.

“Whoosh! There goes _______’s undies!” Frankie adds as she throws her head back in laughter. Your cousin tsks at them to get them to stop teasing you, but with the smirk she’s sporting on her face, you’re certain she’s going to bring this up sooner or later.

With a deep sigh, you hang your head low. This was going to be a long vacation.

Right after Taehyung stages the entrance of the century and greets the cruise’s guests, he discreetly makes his way to a less crowded part of the ship and walks briskly along a dimly lit hallway. Pushing forward an inconspicuous panel on the wall leading to a secret passage, Taehyung silently makes his way done to the lower level of the ship.

The stateroom is almost pitch black as he enters; Taehyung feels his way through the room, solely relying on muscle memory to head to the bedroom. When he turns on the light to check on his great-grandfather, the old man squints, croaking out Taehyung’s name. Rushing to the elder’s side, the dutiful great-grandson pours water on the glass by the bedside table.

Taehyung perches himself on the edge of the bed, taking his great-grandfather’s frail hands in his own. “Dracula – is he on board?” the old man rasps, voice almost whispery. “No,” the younger man shakes his head in denial, “but his daughter is.”

The former winces a little when he tries to shift in his bed, “Even better. Tear him apart by slowly taking his loved ones away from him one by one. Let him feel the pain we had to go through.”

The blonde-haired captain sighs when his great-grandfather coughs again, wheezing as he does. “Promise me you’ll avenge our family, Taehyung. I’m not sure if I’m going to make it any longer, but if I won’t…” he coughs, the strain on his voice evident. “Grandpa, it’s okay, it’s going to be okay.” The old man waves his hand, dismissing Taehyung, “Promise me…for your mother, for your father, and the rest of our family. You and I are the only ones left, my dearest great-grandson. We have no one else to rely on but each other.” The old man’s hand clasp weakly against Taehyung’s.

He tucks his great-grandfather in his bed, and waits patiently for the old man to fall asleep before leaving the room.

You and the girls roam around the deck for a little longer, before deciding to call it a night and head to your rooms. It’s quite the walk all the way there, but as you get farther from the hustle and bustle of the crowd and onto a more secluded part of the vessel, not to mention the rooms are getting father apart from each other, you suppose Cat had picked the best suites available on the cruise. Typical.

Not putting much thought into it with exhaustion taking over your body, you tiredly take a half body bath and head to bed.

Rising a few hours later, you plan on checking out your cousin’s accommodation choices. Just as man-fish had mentioned the night before, there was in fact an invitation placed on top of your bedside table, the gold linings too attractive to miss out on. How could you have possibly missed it though, is all up to your fatigue last night, far too tired to even scan the room.

Heading to the kitchen first to make yourself a cup of coffee, you’re greeted by the beautiful glow of the sunrise as you exit your bedroom. You’re momentarily stunned by the beauty of it, as it was your first after a long time to see the sun, or at least a quarter of it. Contrary to popular belief, sunlight doesn’t incinerate vampires, nor does it make you vanish into thin air. In fact, the closest stories had gotten to your biological truths was that sunlight made you weaker – sort of, because the only explanation for it was that you get really bad sunburn under its rays. But that’s nothing a small bottle of Witch Republic’s Suncream Lotion SPF 5000 can’t fix.

Equipped with a 60-inch smart television mounted on a wall, an equally large painting was hung across the room, serving itself as the background for the sitting area.

The fittings are generously provided for, if the room truly claims it to be a suite for couples: a settee is placed in front of the television for viewing purposes, and another is placed vertically across for lounging and enjoying the view of the balcony.

The balcony – was magnificent in all senses of the word. From a picture on the tiny ‘Legacy’ booklet you grabbed from the table, there really wasn’t much to a panoramic view of the sea but as you pass through the wide windows, the beautiful orange glow from the dawn adds a lovely burst of color in the predominantly monochrome furnishings of the room.

You inhale deeply, breathing in the fresh sea air. You spend a few more moments there, leaning over the balcony until Frankie ruins your moment from a couple of meters away, calling you loud enough for the rest of the ship and the Atlantic Ocean to hear. She drawls your name out, screaming her excitement over your rooms. “I haven’t slept like this since I got my arm re-stitched!” You laugh at her before waving and returning to the sitting room.

A part of you was taking mental notes – possible additions and improvements to your hotel, yet the other half of you wants to allow yourself to enjoy small pleasures like these. Maybe Cat was right all along, that you needed a break from running the hotel and truly relax for a while. With the size of this suite though, you can’t help but wonder if Cat got you all the couple suites solely for your enjoyment or hers.

You decide to take your mug of coffee with you to the balcony and breathe more of the satisfying sea air until the sun rises in its entirety and you retreat back to your room, wanting to sleep in the warm duvet of your bed once more. Maybe this vacation won’t be that bad after all.

Shopping with Catherine was never an easy task. If you could say so yourself, shopping with your cousin was a whole workout on its own.

It’s been three hours since she’s dragged you, Mandy, and Frankie out of your rooms and offered you a shopping spree and free lunch. Who was one to deny such graces? Even when all three of you knew you all would end up following your cousin wherever she went until you’d all complain about how she has to take too long when she always ends up buying everything she sees anyways.

As you stare at your seated self by the full-length mirror, you start to have second thoughts about discontinuing that beginner’s program subscription in yoga before you let Catherine drag you out of the comfort of your room. Sighing in defeat, Frankie turns to you with a similar expression on her face.

Starving, the three of you leave Cat momentarily to look for something to eat, and at the sight of a frozen yogurt stall across the hallway from where you’re seated by the Chanel windows, you and the rest of the girls immediately saunter towards the quaint stall.

While you wait for the girl to finish up your orders, your eyes are busy wandering all over the place in an attempt to count how many shops and boutiques they managed to allocate inside the cruise ship. Guess your hotelier side is already one with your true self.

As you watch a loud group of male monsters exit the arcade nearby, you catch sight of someone awfully familiar: the last face you’d want to see when you’re stuck inside a cruise ship for a few weeks.

Your eyes follow the group, wanting to make sure your eyes are not playing tricks on you. Like a hawk, you watch the group closely – one man in particular, yet he won't seem to look in your direction. You wanted to forget all about it and pretend you didn’t see anything, but you figure this is going to cause you a number of sleepless nights if you don’t. Quickly, you resort to a plan that will have to cost you more energy than just observing, but you were determined to make sure that it was really him.

Focusing your vision on a nearby potted plant, you make the clay vessel move an inch as you try to catch his attention. The first try doesn’t work and neither does the second. Hell bent on your resolution, the third time works the charm (obviously with a more significant amount of distance the plant has moved).

Your suspicions are confirmed – it’s truly him.

Just like that, all sorts of emotions course through you and you feel the corners of your eyes starting to well with tears. He laughs at something one of his companions say, and you feel your heart clench as you look at the same smile you fell for years ago.

It’s takes you a while before you process somebody has been calling you name several times, then you see Mandy waving her hand in front of you. “You okay there? What happened?”

Etching an ingenuine smile on your face, you turn to face her as she hands you the dessert, “Nothing…just thought I saw someone familiar…”

“Mhmm,” Frankie hums, scooping a large portion of yogurt into her mouth, “as long as it’s not you-know-who, then it’s irrelevant,”

“Actually, I think it is him.”

Frankie chokes on the sliced strawberry topping she just ate. “What?!” Mandy places a hand on your shoulder, an apologetic look on her face. “Don’t tell me that fucker is also here?!” Shushing her quickly, you reach out to her to tug at her arm to keep her quiet.

“What fucker are you talking about?” Catherine questions, approaching the three of you with two extra paper bags in her hand. Frankie keeps her mouth shut, thankfully while Mandy comes in to the rescue. “Frankie was just talking about how fucking tasty this froyo is. In fact, I think so too – would you like to try some?” The girl offers her cup, eventually feeding Cat with a spoonful of fruity toppings.

The subject is quickly diverted and as your cousin rummages through her bag to look for the cruise’s official pamphlet, both Frankie and Mandy give you a knowing look.

“Lunch anyone?” You propose to the other three, already wishing you’d soon be forgetting about even seeing your ex-fiancée earlier. 

You’d gotten back to your room around half past five, nearly collapsing to the floor after hours and hours of shopping with your cousin. The girls had agreed to use your room to prepare for the party later (one discussion you don’t remember agreeing to) and had gone around the sitting area, placing their bags done and going through their purchases.

You, on the other hand, had gone straight to the kitchen to look for something to drink. Besides, you just know they’re going to ask for something too later on, so you just grab a few bottles of water for the girls. As you rested against the cool fridge while opening a bottle of your own, you spot a punnet of strawberries sitting on top of a counter.

“Did any one of you bring strawberries here before we left?”

When they chorused their replies of denial, you check the strawberries warily, lifting them off the marble top. You hear something slide down when you open the container. A card came in with the strawberries.

Returning to the living room with strawberries in one hand and the card in the other, Frankie stands from the settee and snatches the card away from you. She waves the small piece of paper in the air, claiming it was a love letter. “Dear _______, I really think you’ve got a wonderful smile, but it’d be better if it was the only thing you’ll be wearing tonight!” she says, pretending to read the note.

“What?! You’ve already made a move without telling us about it? Lemme see!” Mandy exclaims, running after your stitched friend.

“Oh!” Frankie says, pointing to the sky, “Looks like we might be expecting a few inches tonight, hmm?” she adds, snickering as she pokes the inside of her cheek with her tongue repeatedly, and rather inappropriately.

“Y’all disgusting really. ‘M going to shower.”

“Make sure you don’t have too much fun with the showerhead!”

“Fuck you Mandy!”

“I would if you were my type!”

Catherine waits until she hears the water running before turning to her two friends left at the sitting area. “I’m worried.”

“About?”

“My cousin.” The eldest of the girls says, tapping her nails against the couch – a nervous habit. Frankie sets the card back down and nests herself on the carpet just across Cat. “What is there to worry about?”

“This thing between my cousin and the captain?” Carding her fingers through her hair, she closes her eyes before continuing, “Does the fact that he’s human not bother you…at all?”

“The dude’s harmless! And he better think it through when he tries to do something – he’s literally in a ship full of monsters. Do something dumb, he can get his head bitten off in no less than two seconds.”

Catherine is not convinced.

“Plus, I’m sure it’s just a one-time fling – surely, ______’s smart enough to know that. I just firmly believe that one must get laid regularly because penetrative sex is medicinal. And who knows? There might be cobwebs down there already!” Frankie adds.

Cat flings a brochure at Frankie before scrolling through her phone’s gallery then stopping at a portrait of you and her. “I’m just concerned about _____’s wellbeing. This is the most time we’ve spent together for the past two years, and I’m not even sure if she’s fully recovered from what she’d been through with you-know-who.”

“Even worse, what if she falls for the dude? Or she zinged? Or they both zinged?!”

“Hey, hey…” Mandy scoots over to Cat’s side and wraps an arm across her shoulder, “you’re overthinking now babe, and! This is your bachelorette party, stop worrying about stuff. _____ is a strong, independent woman. If she can handle the best hotel in monster history, then handling a man will be too easy.”

“Come out already!” Mandy whines impatiently from outside, knocking impatiently on your bathroom door. You smooth a few creases on your dress before you open the door to reveal your outfit. Shock was a heavy understatement. Cat’s usually beautiful features twist into one of distaste, Mandy pretends to gag at the sight, and Frankie avoids your gaze as she purses her lips.

You can’t help the nervous laugh that escapes your throat when they look at you up then down, scrutinizing your fashion choices.

“What. The hell. Is that?!”

“Why are you too covered up?”

Their hostilities continue as you give them a twirl, genuinely confused with their reactions when there’s absolutely nothing wrong with choosing a long-sleeved rayon blouse with ruffles in the front and a green pleated skirt.

“You didn’t tell me you’re meant to apply for the queen’s secretary?” Frankie questions, rummaging through your luggage.

“You mean Queen Elizabeth I?” Mandy adds, snickering along with the rest of the girls.

“Hey! G4 says she was pretty! And educated for her time too!” you cry in protest.

“Same with you darling. But it’s a party we’re attending and not a royal appointment, so will you do me a favor and wear this instead?”

Your mouth falls agape in shock.

“What?! This dress is… is barely covering anything!” You look closely at the satin blood-red piece of clothing as Catherine hands it to you. Needless to say, just looking at it was a cultural reset.

“Glad to know you’re unaware of that point.” Mandy butts in, “you’ll be happy to know that this dress will get you a man in no time either way.”

“Either way?” Frankie questions before leaving your room to looks for heels to go with your dress.

“Yeap,” the mummy replies, touching up her make-up, “Either you get a man who will cover you up or you’ll find one who will gladly take it off for you later tonight

Catherine coughs, “The captain,” winking at you while she pushes you towards the bathroom, “Chop chop now dear! We still have a party to attend to tonight!”

The party is already in full swing by the time the four of you arrive. The crisp, chilly air hits your face as you get to the main deck, and as you wrap your arms around yourself, you know you're already regretting having worn Catherine’s dress. Arms bare, half of your back out in the open, and a thigh-high slit? Really? A towel could’ve afforded you more modesty than this dress.

Mandy immediately heads to bar, leaving you all to ‘pick your poison for tonight’. Pursing your lips at your mummified friend, you trail after your cousin as she looks for a table to settle yourselves in. You scan the crowd, watching the other monsters move to beat of the music, and also, just in case someone you don’t want to see decides to show up again out of nowhere.

Mandy finds you shortly afterwards with a waiter trailing behind her, carrying a tray of ambiguous looking chalices. Oh boy.

This night was headed straight to hell.

Nearly an hour later, you practically waddle back to your table, breathless and throat parched as the desert. Catherine clings onto you like her Hermes Himalaya Birkin, just as exhausted as you were. Why do you always seem to forget that Mandy dragging your asses to the dance floor has never been the smartest choice?

The moment you get back to your table, you reach for the bronze goblet and down the rest of your drink. The distinctive burn has you keening, tightening your fingers around its stem. Beside you, Catherine coughs after she takes a sip of hers – “What the fuck is in this drink?? Methane?!”

“Throat…on fire…I feel like a fucking dragon,” you attest, voice raspy.

“That, my dear girlfriends, has been mixed by yours truly,” Mandy announces with a proud smile on her face. “I call it the Devil’s Piss.”

You shake your head at her, rubbing at your temples. Starting to feel the sweat break at your hairline, you want nothing more than to return to your suite and sleep the night away. Closing your eyes, you draw a calm scene inside your head: watching the sun set by your balcony as you sip on your hot chocolate –

Your dreams of orange skies and the soft breeze are cut short when you feel a tap on your shoulder. “Countess, the captain requests your presence on the bridge.” Your eyes follow the direction of where he was pointing and see a pair of eyes staring back at you.

Perhaps sleep could stay second on your list tonight.

Cat wiggles her eyebrows suggestively as you bow your head in embarrassment, your cheeks flushing when the rest of the girls whistle and howl as the man-fish stoically escorts you to the bridge. Once you arrive at the top of the stairs, the man adjusts your grip on his elbow as he gently takes your hand and stretches it forward for you to continue on by yourself. “The captain will be waiting inside, Countess” He bows curtly, and your left on your own to walk towards the bridge.

“Countess.” There’s the low timbre of his voice again, sending shivers down your spine effortlessly as you close the door behind you. He doesn’t speak after that, just taking in what you’re wearing tonight, subconsciously biting on his bottom lip as he takes in the outfit your friends have chosen for you.

Every step you take is wobbly, like your legs have turned into goo. The chilly breeze up here is likewise not helping your skin already prickled with goosebumps.

“_______,” Taehyung grabs your hand and gently places a kiss on the back of your palm. Another strike of electricity shoots up your spine at the small gesture. Goodness, what the hell was going on with you?

“Y-you don’t have to do this e-every time we meet.” Inwardly cringing at your shaky voice, you look away and exhale deeply in an attempt to calm your nerves.

It doesn’t help.

Especially not when the captain is less than an arm-length away, and being able to see him this close is doing dangerous things to you. “This is the first time I’ve been on a ship’s bridge,” you comment lamely, keeping the conversation on a sane note. The thirsty ass hoe inside you doesn’t seem to approve of the idea though, unfortunately.

“Really now? How is your first time on the bridge then?”

“It’s…different.”

“Different? How so?”

“Different from trying to run a hotel I guess, which was all I was doing for the past few years…It’s an unlikely comparison, I know, but being here…it’s like you get to oversee everything from the bridge, which I never get when I’m back home, like…you know you’re in control?” You were merely blabbering at this point, but then again, your brain loses control of your bodily functions when you're in close proximity with this man.

“You like being in control then?”

The tiny creaking sound coming from the floor tells you he’s taken a step closer to you, and the warmth coming from him is driving you insane. Damn this bloody dress of Catherine. You’re at a loss for words, neurons short-circuiting at both his question and how it’s equally chilly and hot at the same time in this small space.

It’s too much for you to handle, too much that you can't seem to find the appropriate words to voice out a reply, instead, you just turn around to face him. A gasp escapes your lips when you accidentally bump into his chest when you do so.

“Oh! Crap! I-I’m sorry…” You apologize meekly, fiddling with your hands and refusing to meet his eyes at all costs. The captain places your chin between his fingers and lifts your face for him to look at. He doesn’t say a word either, instead, just leans down and captures your lips in a feverish kiss.

Surprised – was an understatement. You hadn’t really expected him to call you over to the bridge and the next thing you knew he’s already kissing you. He immediately pulls away when you don’t reciprocate, apologizing profusely and mumbling about misplaced affections.

“No!” You exclaim, causing the captain to jump a little. You gather your courage and rub at your temples. “I mean…Captain V, your affections have not been misplaced, it’s just this…monster thing that has me acting like this the whole time, and I really have zero control over it and…”

You don’t get to finish your sentence as you feel his warm, moist lips on yours again. His strawberry-tasting lips glide over yours smoothly that you find yourself leaning towards him as you melt into the kiss. You’re first to pull away this time, breathless. “Forgive me, Countess…I’ve been wanting to do that since I first laid eyes on you on this ship,” he says, cupping your face as he rests his forehead against yours. “So beautiful,” Taehyung whispers against the shell of your ear and trails a finger from your cheek and eventually down to your collarbones as he ogles the cleavage Cat’s dress had generously given you tonight.

“Taehyung.” He places a lingering kiss on your shoulder. “Call me Taehyung, please.” He smooths his hand over your hips, tightening his grip as he pulls you closer and kisses you once more. You feel something hard against your stomach – oh. Your mouth parts when he starts to grind, slowly and devilishly against you and he takes this opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

His gaze darkens when he sees the expanse of skin the slit of your dress reveals as you shift your legs, thigh now out in the open. Attaching his lips to yours again, Taehyung distracts you from the way his slender fingers dance their way up dangerously near your core.

Your head bows in embarrassment when you remember Mandy checking if you’d worn the right underwear earlier, ‘If they’re not lace, they have to go.’ So when she busted inside the bathroom as you were changing into Cat’s clothes earlier and saw your favorite cotton panties (with an embroidered flower on the front), she quickly rips the material in distaste, strongly suggesting that commando is the way to go. It won't be long until Taehyung discovers –

“No panties huh?” Taehyung observes, voice low and deep. “Yes,” you reply breathily, closing your eyes as you ignore how you're throbbing all over in such a short period of time. You try to regain your wits back, your first zing too overwhelming that everything seems like a haze.

With a new, albeit questionable, surge of courage, you move your hand to palm him through his pants. When Taehyung bares his neck to you to elicit a groan, your head subconsciously dips towards the spot where you feel his pulse the strongest. In an instant, your primal instincts begin to take over you, baring your fangs and grazing them dangerously against his skin.

Holy fuck.

This man was going to be the cause of your death.

It’s been a while since you’ve been in close proximity with a human, and being this close to the captain has stirred up something inside of you that you never knew still existed.

Back in the days when humans had mingled freely with your kind, witches had placed suppressants in the Tersnoan atmosphere so that a monster’s primal instincts won't ever be able to take over your diplomatic selves.

Now that you were much older with fully developed senses, being this close to a human with no suppressants whatsoever had inevitably awakened your inborn vampiric tendencies.

Needless to say, your generation of vampires had gone ‘vegetarian’ in a sense. Your lifestyle no longer consisted of hunting down people for food, but you opted for a healthier alternative and a more convenient source of food: coconut juice. Besides, human blood never really came in highly recommended by the older generations, claiming it tasted like loneliness and despair.

What they failed to warn you of, however, was how intense the urge was once you were only a hair-breadth away from a human being who is very much alive. The temptation was getting stronger by the second, and the pulse coming from Taehyung’s jugular vein was ringing loudly in your ears.

Both the desires of hunt and lust were slowly taking over you, your judgment, and your irises, and your lips quake ever so gently at the excitement coursing through your veins. As you feel your irises change its color from their natural ones, to purple then to gold afterwards, the surprise in Taehyung’s eyes has gotten prominent, yet, with astounding self-control, he manages to keep the rest of his body calm and collected.

He gulps at the small smirk that plays on your lips, “To answer your question, I like being in control,” you say lowly, grazing the tip of your nail against his jawline, “but only when the need arises so.”

For a moment, you sense his fright with your golden eyes and fangs on display, but you feel it dissipate quickly when you bunch his shirt in your fists and pull him closer to you. Taehyung then takes this as a cue to continue his torment of his featherlight touches, causing you to lean against the wheel as your head falls backward at the sensation.

Brazenly, he hooks a hand under your thigh and wraps your leg around his hip, allowing himself to grind harder against you, the friction of his dress pants against your bare heat sending you to a state of near delirium. The moment is cut short however as you both hear footsteps approaching the bridge. The captain puts your leg down as abruptly as he hooked his arm underneath it earlier.

As you wait for the two man-fish creatures to pass by the wheelhouse, you and the captain keep a modest gap between each other, letting the staff move across the bridge and until they take their positions by the front portion of the deck. Just as if the captain wasn’t groping you merely seconds ago.

The moment they’re out of sight, Taehyung closes the distance between the both of you, resting his weight on you as he presses you further onto the wheel of the ship. Subconsciously, you bite your lip as you feel his boner practically begging for your attention.

His actions are hastier this time around, and quite frankly, you're glad he has managed to equal the same level of urgency you had. You don’t know how long you’ll be able to hold onto your sanity with the heat pooling in the pit of your stomach. Else, you’d be taking the matter in your own hands.

Every contact of Taehyung’s skin with yours has you skin ablaze, and you’re unsure if it’s due to the (partly) shameful fact that you haven’t been this intimate with someone for the past few years that you're this responsive. He’s fondling your breasts with one hand, unabashedly tweaking and playing with your nipples. The other hand is busy squeezing your thighs, fingers dancing lightly across the exposed skin of your leg.

Your breath hitches as he unexpectedly cups your bare mound, digits swiping against your folds. Body quaking at the feeling, your body leans forward, but Taehyung has other plans, tugging you back harshly to his chest. “You think you can stay still for me sweetheart? You wouldn’t want my staff to think we’re christening the bridge, do you?”

Maybe, just maybe, the thought didn’t sound so bad?

“Oh?” Taehyung hisses when he feels your quick intake of breath at the thought. He finds your clit seconds later, rubbing the nub languidly, “you seem to like the idea, hmm?”

“Taehyung, please,” you beseech, leaning towards his touch and grinding your hips against his palm in desperation. You’re uncertain if this was an effect still caused by the zing but at this point, you just wanted a release from his relentless teasing and you’re more than willing to work for it if you have to.

The captain revels in your responsiveness and as a reward, he complies with your request, quickening his pace and toying your clit with more vigor than ever. Your hands, previously just as busy groping Taehyung, now shoots out to grip at the helm, your high approaching rapidly. He inserts a long, dexterous digit to accompany his other hand, helping you reach your climax faster. A second finger has you reeling, gripping the helm even tighter than before, knuckles turning white at the sheer strength. One kiss on your neck is all it takes, orgasming so hard that Taehyung has to hold you still lest you lose your balance.

You're still panting a minute later, having turned around and resting your hands on Taehyung’s chest for support. You both stay like that for a moment in each other’s arms, until you’re brought back to reality by the captain’s boner brushing against your tummy. “Can I?” you ask as you look up to him, thumbing the waistband of his dress pants.

“_______, darling, as much as I’d want to you right here, there’s too many of my staff roaming around the bridge for the night. And if these creatures walking about isn’t bothersome enough, it’s the fact that fish don’t blink either…so there’s that…” Taehyung states before placing a kiss on your shoulder. “If you desire so, I’d gladly continue this in my room…” the captain offers, looking at you expectantly as another pair of the fish men round the deck.

“I think we should go with that.”

He nods briefly, placing a wet kiss on your temple before taking your hand in his. Giddy as a teenager at the sight of her crush, you let him lead the way to his stateroom, unable to hide the shy smile on your lips. Once he leaves the wheelhouse to one of his first mates for the night, he squeezes your hand and continues on, palm contrastingly warm against yours as you walk to his room together.

“Did you enjoy the strawberries I had sent you earlier this evening?”

“Definitely. They’re one of the sweetest bunches I’ve tried in my life! Thanks for them by the way.”

“You did? They’re handpicked from our very own greenhouse on the ship!” Taehyung looks back at you with the brightest smile, eyes crinkling with the purest delight. Your heart crumples at the sight. How could the zing have possibly chosen this man for you – or worse, how are you supposed to deal with this type of duality?

One moment he’s brazenly fingering you inside the wheelhouse with blinkless staff roaming about and the next he’s talking about growing strawberries and how farming has been therapeutic for him. How is one man so devilish and wholesome at the same time?

Just like that, conversation flowed natural between the two of you: the similarities of having to run a hotel (as well as a heated debate on whether or not a hotel on land or on water is easier to manage), hobbies you enjoy on a spiritual level, and a few bits and pieces of him as Kim Taehyung and not the captain of The Legacy.

You’d just learned he doesn’t drink coffee, nor does he drink alcohol; he plays the saxophone and claims he’s pretty learned with the instrument; and that he loves taking photographs. In addition, he’d also told you about how he was born and raised in Korea hence the faint accent, but he’d grown up moving from place to place with his great-grandfather due to their family business, and that’s how their voyages helped him practice his English and even pick up a few foreign languages.

Your getting-to-know each other session is brought to a pause when the blonde-haired captain stops in front of a door in a dimly lit corridor. Quietly, he fishes for something inside his pockets, takes out his keycard and taps it against the door lock. Taking a peek from outside, you wait for him as he turns the lights on before following him inside.

Mouth agape as you enter, your eyes wander around his stateroom, marveling at the sheer grandeur of the captain’s living space. Just when you thought Catherine had given you and your friends the luxury of staying in a suite large enough to house a family of five, the captain’s stateroom on the other hand could easily pass for at least ten people.

Taehyung’s suite exactly looks like it came from a magazine spread, akin to a million-dollar apartment…at a high-rise residential tower…located in the middle of the busiest city in the world.

The captain lets you roam around his stateroom, a small smile playing on his lips as you gape over every detail in the room. It was modern interior design taking to a whole new level.

Monochromatic in a way, yet for some reason, he had it strategically designed to make it look more dynamic, alive somehow. You were no expert in the field of interior design, but with your modest experience in running a hotel (from choosing what type of cotton will be best for the beddings to organizing parties with more than a hundred participants), you could easily tell every nook and cranny of this room was heavily planned out.

Pointing at the stairs, you wordlessly ask for his permission if you could go up and check out the upper level. Taehyung doesn’t follow right after, momentarily heading to his kitchen. Significantly smaller than the lower floor, the second level houses his bedroom, with a heap of curtains serving as a divider and cover from those staying below.

His bedroom speaks more of him than any other part of the stateroom. Just as he mentioned earlier, there’s an open saxophone case on one corner, next to another black violin case. You also take notice of the makeshift tie hanger he’d made using the coat stand.

What truly catches your eyes though, is the array of photographs hung on the walls. It’s a mosaic of some sort, with photos spread from a corner then occupying half of the adjacent walls. Some are framed, some are printed on canvas, and a number are on photo paper and pasted on the beige wall. They’re caught on film, you reckon, with the distinct grainy resolution common amongst the photos.

Swiping your finger against the wooden frames of the pictures he’d hung, you study each photo thoroughly, trying to figure out the story behind each picture. There’s three more situated on his bedside table, Picking up the one with Taehyung smiling widely beside a boat’s mast.

“Ah, my first sail,” Taehyung says, taking a step near you. The tiny hairs on your nape stand at the feeling of his warm breath against your skin. All of a sudden, you realize he’s standing too close – too close for you to remain sane.

You keep the framed photo in your hands, yet your thoughts have ultimately flown far away from whatever story was behind the picture; like how you hear his heart beat a little faster.

“Enough about me, countess,” the captain whispers as he places a hand over yours and guides yours back down to the bedside table. For a second there, you’d forgotten

For a second there, you’d almost forgotten he literally had the same fingers inside you just a few moments ago and that you’re now reminded of the main and sole purpose why you’re here in his bedroom.

“What about you?” Taehyung sets the strawberries down next to the photograph, then tucks a few strands of stray hair behind your ear. Each teasing touch is driving you closer to madness, like every move of his is calculated as if he knows he has this effect on you.

Lamely, you echo his words, “What about me?”

“Do you still want to look at more of my photographs or shall we continue what we started earlier?” It’s so awfully quiet inside the room that you basically hear yourself gulp at his proposal.

Weren’t your bodily reactions enough to serve as an answer?

You wanted to act less naïve (and appear a whole less desperate) that you’d imagined giving him a proper answer in your head, but here you were, stiff as a gargoyle statue, cowering beneath the warmth radiating off Taehyung.

Thoughts too haywire, you're unable to rack your brain for an appropriate reply, so you return the question to him: one with a double purpose – for him to ponder on and for you to recollect yourself. “What do you want?” Slowly, you turn to face him, bracing yourself for the hormonal uproar you are to experience.

The captain pouts cutely while in thought before darting his tongue out to lick at his lips. Taehyung gently brushes your hair over your shoulder, fingers subsequently tracing the outline of your collarbone. “I want,” he starts off, toying with the strap of your dress and wrapping it around his finger, “to take this off.”

Letting him slide the straps off your shoulders, you inhale deeply, anticipation doubling by the second. With your shoulders tense, the straps fall only until your elbows. Taehyung notices your hesitation and tenderly takes your chin between his thumb and his forefinger, tilting your head up so he could face you properly.

“Hey, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Feeling sorry for him having to deal with your worries, you cup his beautiful face in your hands, “I want to. I really do – it’s just…it’s been a while.”

You're grateful when he leans toward your touch, sending a soft smile your way. “Of course, darling, we’ll take it slow.” Relaxing your shoulders, the thin straps of your dress fall down the length of your arm with the rest of the fabric following shortly after.

Core throbbing immensely with want, you take initiative this time, claiming his mouth with a newfound sense of courage and urgency. Your knees threaten to give in when he matches the intensity of your kiss. With haste, you thumb at the zipper of his pants, causing him to trip on his own feet and fall forward.

The blonde-haired man brings you down to bed with him, stretching his arm out just in time to break his fall, making sure he’s not resting too much of his weight on you. “What happened to taking it slow?”

Taehyung is just as breathless when he helps you with your predicament with his pants. “Fuck it, there’s plenty of time for that later but I need you,” you pant, unable and unwilling to keep your hands to yourself – brushing against his clothed erection, sliding them against his defined chest, wrapping your hands by his neck to pull him closer to you…

“I need you now, inside me, please Tae…”

He withdraws from your body and kneels by the edge of the bed. Legs already shamefully spread and ready, Taehyung rummages through the drawers of his bedside table, looking for something. At the mention of condoms under his breath, you wave at him, trying to catch his attention.

He turns to you, eyebrows raised. “No need. Human sperm can’t get us pregnant anyways. Are you clean?”

“Got checked three weeks ago, that good with you?”

You nod your head, beckoning him over. Taehyung wastes no time, taking his boxers off to free his dick from the confines of his underwear. He crawls over to you and places a kiss on each of your thighs before taking his cock and sliding it against your wet folds.

He uses yours and his essences as lubricant, jerking himself off first before pushing the red tip of his shaft slowly. In consideration of your own pleasure, he doesn’t rush his entrance, just pushing slowly then drawing it back to prep you properly.

Taehyung continues with that, until your hand shoots out to grab him by his wrist, giving him a tug to let him know you’re ready. Silently, he nods, this time pushing his cock inside until he’s fully seated inside your warm walls. “So t-tight.” Taehyung shivers when you experimentally clench around him.

“Babe,” the captain breathes out while heat rises to your face at the term of endearment. “Please don’t do that again, fuck, I might just cum early if… if…” Taehyung falls silent again, groaning as you clench one more time, “you're just one naughty girl aren’t you?”

When you shrug your shoulders in reply, it’s like something inside Taehyung snaps because he gives you a playful smirk before thrusting harshly. You mewl at the feeling, fingers tugging at his hair in encouragement.

“Y-you're so big,” you cry out as he ruts his hips, the tip of his cock deliciously brushing against your sweet spot with every thrust. “Fuck,” Taehyung hisses, continuing the fluid motion of his hips, “your pussy was made just to take me then.”

He goes almost animalistic, thrusting even deeper, stronger as he chases his high. “Think you can cum with me sweetheart?” Taehyung queries, pushing his hair back when he feels the edges of his fringe tickle your cheeks.

Taehyung deftly finds your clit while he’d continued his torment with his hips, a single moan coming from your mouth is all he needs before proceeding with abusing your nether nub. It doesn’t take you both much after that, both your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave, one after the other.

A few more hours into the evening and you find yourselves still tangled in each other’s bodies, worshipping each and every inch of skin as you get overcome by lust over and over again.

Taehyung collapses to your side after what seems like… in fact, you’ve actually lost count of how many times you’ve climaxed. Panting, he looks at you with a smile reaching his eyes, “That was…” He’s at a loss for words but when he hears laughter bubble out of you at his cuteness, he joins in.

The laughter dies down, yet you’re still staring at each other – no words needed to explain what had just transpired between the both of you tonight. You stay still and contented, basking in the euphoric bliss. He says he can't stay awake any longer, bidding you a good night’s sleep and sweet dreams.

You manage to stay awake though, on the contrary, swearing to yourself you’d just seen his eyes flash lavender before falling into a deep slumber.

© joontier 2020

Send me your thoughts? x

[its-nebula]

Don’t Touch Him

PreGame Kokichi x Delinquent Reader

Well, it wasn’t like you weren’t used to being by your lonesome. It was pretty much just like any regular day. Still, you couldn’t help but wish just once that you could talk to him, maybe even tell him your feelings. Alas, you knew it could only be a fantasy of yours for now. Why?

Well, for starters, Kokichi actually went to class when he was supposed to. Even now, you were standing behind the school, thinking about how you couldn’t even muster up the courage to tell the object of your affections how you simply felt about him. There was an irony to it, really. Everyone assumed that you were one of the toughest people in the school, but you felt like such a wimp, such a coward even.

Still, you had an appearance to keep up. You knew that you would probably scare him off, if you ever tried to confess, so all the more reasons to stay quiet. Eventually, you would probably have to stop coming to school completely and making a fool out of yourself. Every time the two of you crossed paths, you found yourself very giggly and blushy, barely able to form coherent sentences -- not ideal.

Looking at the time, you groaned at the fact that time seemed to be moving so slowly, so you decided to take just a small stroll. Walking back into the building, you lazily looked at the decor, deciding it was all just so boring.

"...and you're just worthless! No wonder your family all left you." You heard a female voice from around the corner. Whoever they were, they sounded angry. 

“I-I didn’t mean to! It was supposed to be funny!” You recognized that voice from anywhere. Kokichi?! You peeked your head around the corner, seeing Kokichi’s panicked face and a pale girl who was covered head to toe in glitter. 

“I bet it’ll be funny to see you on the ground.” She hissed, and punched him in the face without warning. You audibly gasped, covering your mouth and ducking behind the wall. Anger bubbled within you, ready to rise up to the surface. The girl in question looked your way, but seeing nobody, she kicked him in the shin and walked away quickly. Kokichi groaned in pain, rubbing his cheek. 

You felt bad for not interfering, but the girl would get what she deserved. This wouldn’t be the first time a situation like this had come up. Just a couple weeks ago, you had to deal with Rantaro Amami for yelling at Kokichi for dyeing his hair dark red. Rantaro didn’t come near him again.

 Turning around, you made your way around the school to the bathroom, where you assumed she was going to wash herself off. You waited outside for her once you heard the water running inside, and as soon as the door opened, you attacked.

You recognized the girl as Maki Harukawa, who had a reputation for being a little mean, but none of that mattered to you now. You growled as you clenched your fists after you pushed her to the ground. 

“What gives you the right to go pushing people around?” You yelled. She tried to retaliate by getting up, but you put a foot on her chest. “Why don’t you pick on somebody your own size, you bitch?”

“He... glitter bombed....me...” She protested, trying to move your foot off her. You pressed it down harder. “Leave me alone, you- you freak!” 

“Leave. Kokichi. Alone.” You snapped. You moved your foot off of her, allowing her to stand up and dust herself off angrily. “Or else, I’ll-” She punched you in your nose, taking you by surprise. 

“I don’t care how tough you are. Don’t touch me.”

Oh, that fucking does it. Yelling, you lunged at her, tackling her to the ground. You punched her in the face repeatedly, as she tried to reach up and go for your throat.

The school bell rang loudly through the halls. Shit.

Quickly scrambling to get off her, you delivered one final kick to her side, and took off. You weaved through the crowd of people, trying to blend in. It was a little difficult, seeing as how people always got out of your way when you were coming, but you managed to get away without any staff finding you. It was a quiet room of the school that you were sure only you knew how to get access to.

Breathlessly, you leaned against the wall, not even paying attention to the blood dribbling out of your nose. Closing your eyes, you sighed. You knew as soon as Maki revealed what happened you were sure to be expelled.

“Are...you okay?”

You jumped as you heard a voice in front of you, opening your eyes. You saw a small figure in front of you, holding an ice-pack to his cheek. He was looking at you very meekly, but he looked very concerned.

“You’re bleeding...”

The voice was unmistakable as Kokichi Oma, and your face started to flush. 

“I-I-I, u-uh, y-yeah!”

“Are you sure, S/O?”

“I’m, uh...excuse me.” You rushed past him as you exited the room out of nervousness. Letting out the breath you’d sucked in, you began walking to your usual outside spot, but you ran straight into the chest of a very stern headmaster. He glared at you with his arms crossed, tapping his foot.

You, however, pretended you were very happy to see him. “Headmaster. Headmaster! How have you been, how’s the wife?!” You laughed, but he only kept his frown. 

“S/O, I told you after Rantaro that I would give you one last chance to turn yourself around.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Like that was ever gonna happen. But-”

“Not only have you been skipping most of your classes, but you’ve brutally beaten up yet another student. I’m sure you know what this means. I’m sorry, there’s nothing else I can do.”

There was silence between the two of you. You turned your back towards him, tight-lipped. 

“I’m sure there’s still good in you somewhere, S/O. You’ll find it somewhere, someday.”

“...Goodbye.”

You hastily walked to the outside area, in the back of the school. Going to your usual spot, you stood there, staring up at the large building. You’d probably never get the chance to interact with Kokichi again, but it was a sacrifice you were willing to make. He deserved someone who was less difficult, less dangerous.

“HEY! S/O!” Great, now what? Pursing your lips, you turned to the side, only to be met face-to-face with Kaito Momota. “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing, beating the shit out of my friends?”

You hummed in response, not wanting to give him the time of day. He put his hand on your shoulder, harshly forcing you to turn around to face him. “All because of some weird little dude nobody even likes, huh? Well, I’m going to beat the crap out of you, and I’m going to beat that little jokester next!”

You blocked his incoming punch, twisting his arm instead. You weren’t in school anymore, so what was the point of going easy? He yelled out, kneeling in pain. While he was kneeling, you took the opportunity to kick him in the chest, calling him to fall down hard. As you were about to kick him again, he grabbed your leg, causing you to trip.

Once he was on top of you, he started to punch you in your face, just as you’d done to Maki. With all your strength, you pushed him off you, quickly getting up. You kicked him where the sun doesn’t shine, multiple times. 

You didn’t even notice that you drew a crowd, temporarily distracted by the whoops and howls of the spectators. He took the opportunity to punch you in your jaw, getting you with an uppercut. You started to get dizzy, starting to see stars and multiple Kaitos in front of you. 

“This...is for... him....” You managed to mutter out before you delivered one final push to Kaito, then losing the energy to continue further. You prepared for Kaito to make one final blow, but you heard the voice that seemed to be following you.

“STOP! T-This is all my fault! You don’t want her!” You saw Kokichi’s black uniform standing in front of you. Your eyes widened. Was he dumb? Kaito was absolutely going to crush him into a pulp if he didn’t move!

“Ko...kich...i...?” You wondered out loud. How embarrassing, he had to see you in this vulnerable state. You were supposed to be the one protecting him, but...

...

When you woke up, you were still behind the school. It was quieter than what you remembered, and the sun wasn’t in the same place. How long were you gone...? And then you remembered everything, especially how Kokichi jumped in front of you. You tried to get up, but your head was throbbing. Your hand made its way to the top of your forehead, and you felt...bandages? You heard footsteps walking towards you, and they suddenly stopped.

“S/O! You’re awake?” Kokichi ran towards you, and gently knelt beside you. You blushed profusely. “That fight...it looked pretty bad.” You noticed the bruise that’d developed on his cheek, and you reached up to touch it.

“You’re hurt... you shouldn’t have done that, you know.” You warned him.

“I had to.” He looked away shyly. “I heard the rumors of the school, that you only fought Kaito because you wanted to defend my name. You didn’t have to do that. Besides, you’re way more hurt than I am.”

“I would do anything for a friend.” You winced as you said that. You continued, “Why aren’t you scared of me already? I got expelled today, Kokichi. I’m dangerous, you’re much better off-”

“Why’d you do it? Why’d you have to get yourself expelled?”

You took a deep breath. There was nothing else to lose. “I care about you, Kokichi. Those people have no right to be hurting you like they want to..”

“S/O, I care about you too, but you don’t have to go around doing dumb things because of my dumb pranks!”

“...Well...maybe I...like you...” You trailed off, embarrassed that you even said it. 

“You...do? What?” His eyes widened. “S-Since when? Why do you always run away from me?”

“I thought you would be more afraid of me if I ever interacted with you too much. Besides, you deserve better than this.”

“That’s not for you to decide.” He placed a soft kiss upon your lips. You kissed back instantly, smiling within the moment. Once he pulled away, he gave you a small smile. “Thank you for protecting me S/O... I know I don’t look like much, but please, allow me to do the same for you as well.”

You smiled back at him. “I’ll try, Kokichi.”

“Thank you.”

[kanesthirstblog]

NSFW ALPHABET: ABE HARUAKI

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Requires lots of aftercare but also wants to take care of you. Very clingly, like, will latch onto you and cuddle you for the rest of the night clingy. You should probably give him some reassurance or comfort, he seems like the type to stress about whether or not he was any good to you once the fun is over.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Hmmm... Totally the sappy kinda guy who tells you he loves all of your body and thinks it's beautiful and 100% means every praise he sings you about it. He loves everything about you from your soft hair to the tips of your toes.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

God. Just imagining him sprawled out on any surface with an exhausted yet dopey look in his eyes, covered in his own cum (and/or yours of course!) after a few rounds of sex really makes me feel satisfied. Really can't explain this one

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Secretly a bit of a masochist but also scared of being hurt so he never asks even if he really wants to.

Also secretly owns a couple erotic novels he used as "research" when you first brought up wanting a sexual relationship. Since you are his first, he would want to see how he's supposed to act in that scenenrio so he could please you properly. (But damn was he shocked when you wanted to be the dominant one. That wasn't in his books.) Haruaki learns the importance of communication that day.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Dudes a canon virgin y'all. This also excites me.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Secretly loves it when he's on his back so he can see your face as you ride him or peg him. He just thinks you're the prettiest person he's evermet and loves watching you even as you tease or toy with him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He's a sappy guy. Would probably look at you like a puppy who sees someone they really love. Besides that he's have that dopey look like he's never been happier than he is in that moment, smiling up at you.

Once you've had sex a couple times he might start opening up more, cracking jokes and asking shy requests from you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Yup. Makes sure he's nice and clean especially

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He really tries hard to be romantic but he has 0 experience in this area and often fumbles his way through it by trying to be sweet and make you feel good. Very bad at saying romantic things and would probably give up after a bit before he dies from embarassment.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Tbh I actually think he'd barely masturbate if he did at all. This is partly because I actually have an asexual headcanon for him and partly cause in canon he seems really put off by sexual things if not being outright afraid of them.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Contrary to some of the fandom headcanons, I don't really imagine the sailor uniform thing as a kink. It just seems like a typical fixation or something that gets played up for laughs to a strange degree. But maybe thats my ADHD dumbass brain projecting my ADHD onto a fave. (Off topic but him knowing everything about sailor uniforms, from design to creation, being able to make them himself, getting happy any time he sees one, ect. Are headcanons I have because his weird fixation with them reminds me of my fixation on rocks, mushrooms, and jewelry.)

HOWEVER

Praise kink. Body worship. He'd love to be pet gently while you tell him how pretty he is. How you love his soft hair or his long legs or slender form as you lightly trail you fingertips down his body or card fingers through his hair. And he would do the same for you too.

Might at least try pegging, and then realizes he actually likes it when you hold him down and pound his ass.

Would be too embarrassed and a bit scared to bring this up but actually likes the idea being treated roughly. If you could pull at his hair and bite him even a little bit he'd practically melt in your hands.

Might try bondage if it's light. Soft hand cuffs or silk ropes are the way to go.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

At home. Anywhere is fine as long as its at home

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

The fastest way is probably being physical with him or just stripping for him. He gets embarassed and tries to hide but you know he's aroused, you can feel it when you sit on his lap.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He'd probably not be okay with having more than one partner. You might frighten him if he starts feeling like you guys are ganging up on him.

Public/semi-public sex is a no go. Especially since he is a teacher, he wouldn't risk his job on the off chance you both get caught.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

I think he actually might no be very into oral at first. But will give or recieve though you may have to hear some complaint about it being kind of unsanitary or something. He's also kinda bad a giving oral but what did you expect? He's a virgin.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Personally prefers the slow and sensual kinda sex but you set the pace regardless so ultimately it's up to you. He won't be turned into a stuttering mess right away if you guys take it slow.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Alright with it as long as it stays private. You'll be the only one asking for these but try to get him in the morning before he leaves for work so you can corner him against a counter. Its best when his back is turned so you can grab his hair and lick along his throat, nipping here and there. He'd shiver in your arms as you trail a hand down to undo his pants

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

As long as it isn't a risk to him (would probably be too scared to try knifeplay) or job (no public/semi-public sex) you could probably talk him into it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Hmmm... Depends I guess. I feel like he might only be active for a round or maybe 2 before he starts slowing down. You could still pound the guy into the mattress but he'll have those half lidded doe eyes cloudy with exhaustion. He'd wrap his arms around you loosely as if you'll help ground him to the waking world and try to hold you closer to him.

At that point you should definitely ask a few times before you start another round to make sure he's okay and reassure him that it's alright to stop now. Strikes me as someone who could easily fall into a place where he'd hide his desire to stop just so you can use him for your own fun since it makes you happy. That could be kinda bad for his mental health.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

You'd be the one with all the toys tbh. But you can sure as hell use them on him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He's not much of a tease but if he's feeling playful, he might play up the innocent look of his. He really is a pretty innocent guy actually, but he knows you love that sweet look he's got to him and he will use it on you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

So damn loud. This guy would moan and beg loudly, scream your name and plead for mercy, for relief as you all but eat him alive. Might even cry and whine and beg. Oh, but he tries to be quiet so he doesn't risk disturbing anyone. He'd purse his lips and turn away from you while you play with his body in an attempt to stay quiet but he always gives in quickly. It's easy to turn this guy into a whimpering, begging mess no matter how many times you do this.

You'll know when he's tired because he will be unable to make much noise besides low pants and gasps. Probably best to wrap things up at that point before ya fuck him unconcious.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I have a few actually.

-Has a hard time saying no to you. He's a bit cowardly and overthinks and he would be afraid to lose a first relationship. This is potentially hazardous to his mental health because he might say "yes" to something he doesn't want for fear of losing you. Consent is important though so even if it's difficult at first, keep checking to make sure he's alright.

-I actually headcanon him as a sex indifferent asexual. He can 100% live with sex or without it. Doesn't matter to him, though he's terrified of trying it for the first time.

-The first time you tried to get him in bed, you pinned him to a wall and he was terrified because he thought you were trying to shake him down or harass him. (Well, the latter part was true but not the way he expected.) And then you kissed him and he straight up broke, wrapped himself in blankets and hid under the futon for the rest of the day. Disappointing? Sure, but damn was it cute.

-I'm actually caught up on how he would take to dirty talk tbh since a lot of it I've seen or heard involves some form or another of calling your partner a slut or whatever. Seems to be popular. On one hand if he's secretly a masochist, he might be into it. But on the other, he also seems like he might take anything you say to him to heart and beat himself up over it and would ultimately not like it. Also probably would not be comfortable if he did the dirty talking and assuming he manages to make it through the night without apologizing to you for everything he says, then you'll hear it when you finish.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Mandragora patterned briefs. You cannot change my mind on this one.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not very, so he's pretty chill about it.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Depends on how much you exhausted him but it usually doesn't take that long.

Bonus:

Some more cute Haruaki.

[havetheavengersdoneanythingwrong]

Act 2 — Il Dottore pt. 1

'Home,' and 'leadership.' A cowardly Master finds himself in a situation far larger than he could expect -- with only a moment's rest.

A doctor would be perfect, to get his mind off it.

—

“…Who are you?”

The young woman’s eyes stared into mine for a moment, before she took one step — then another, until she were facing us all.

As Ritsuka tried helping up Caster, Mash stepped in front of them preemptively — even though the lady held no weapons, being certain was impossible with all we’d seen.

Cursing myself under my breath for not preparing more casual dress for my allies in advance, I found myself forming a tale off the top of my head — as I jumped up in a moment, stepping in front of the woman to mildly obscure the less human aspects of Gorgon and such — after all, hiding that wasn’t exactly easy, but she couldn’t just enter spirit form now that she was spotted.

“We’re… cosplayers. We came from a Renaissance Fair not far from here, but we got a bit lost and our ride ditched us.”

“…My, what a story.” The woman closed an eye, tapping a finger to her cheek in thought.

“And yet, there hasn’t been any recent Renaissance Fairs about these parts, friend.”

…

…Sh—

“—He calls it that to sound cool. He’s never actually been to a ren’ fair, so we let him off easy. It was a small thing between us and a few other online mutuals, but well. Things went south pretty quick.”

…Thank god for Ritsuka. The other Master came in strong, having seemingly adjusted their form slightly — though I couldn’t quite tell what. Regardless, the orange-haired Master stepped forward beside me, fully blocking off the line of sight for Gorgon’s tail and allowing her to stand with the others. While I could only hope she’d make her tail look artificial too, it was a bit difficult to see how she’d do that.

Even so, the lady laughed softly, and extended a hand.

“Aren’t you both a curious group? My name is… Tessie. Tessie Quin — I’m just an actor around these parts. And you?”

‘…Quin.’ Didn’t that name seem..?

Regardless, I shook her hand carefully — and Ritsuka followed suit, after sparing a glance my way to ensure I wasn’t poisoned or something, probably.

“Nice to meet ya! I’m Ritsuka, and my buddy here is Cadence.”

“And the rest of you?”

“…We’ll, uh, introduce ourselves a bit later. They’re a little hammered, so they’re a little too dedicated to their roles right now.”

A glance from Ritsuka back to our other teammates was all they needed to keep quiet and act the part — Tlazolteotl silently directing the four, alongside Mash, to seem a little bit dazed to keep Ritsuka’s story intact.

“…What an odd brigade indeed. And you said you all were lost, right? In this forest?”

Tessie curiously inquired, after gazing over our group as though double-checking our alibis — raising a finger to the forest’s edges around us, that grew more thick, and harder to see through, especially in the night. Even the moon’s soft light did little to actually illuminate the area.

‘…I’m finding myself counting us lucky for landing in the outskirts.’

As I tried to ignore the hassle of Mash trying to tell Caster not to act hammered as well, I placed my hands into my pockets — so they could ball up, and relieve a bit of stress — and spoke.

“Yeah. We tried to take a shortcut home, but that went pretty bad pretty quick. It turns out a bunch of hammered cosplayers and a baker don’t excel in navigation.”

The lady nodded, though furrowing her brow after a moment.

“…Did you all simultaneously trip or something? When I saw you, all of you were on the ground.”

…Shit.

“—Well, again. A bunch of drunkards aren’t going to excel in balance, either. There was a tree root nearby that set the lot of them off balance.”

“…You seem sober enough.”

…Shit. (Again.)

And yet again, my fellow Master steps in to save my ass. Ritsuka laughed a bit at Quin’s words, leaning back a bit.

“This dude? He’d trip over an ant, let alone an obvious tree root. He’s a baker, but he’s horribly clumsy in the vast outdoors.”

…Quin paused for a moment in thought, before laughing a little bit.

“He certainly seems the type. My… You all really are an interesting group, huh?”

'...Do I really seem like a klutz?' I had to ask myself before preparing to respond -- but then again, I didn't exactly look like the type that could walk a tightrope.

"Something like that."

I finally managed to speak up, as Ritsuka took that as their cue to take the step back.

"As of now, we're looking for a place to stay and catch our bearings. Maybe see some sights here while we're at it."

Doing my best to follow the 'background' Ritsuka laid out, I took each moment in between these sentences to breathe. 'In, and out.'

It was all I could do. As something reached out, as though intent on returning its grasp to my neck as I tried to match Ritsuka's tale, I needed to breathe carefully to scare it off.

"I was thinking, since the lot of us are already here, that we take some time to enjoy it before we head back. Would you know where a hotel or something is?"

Tessie only raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms in thought. Her eyes turned upwards, closer to the sky -- as though the stars would spell out where to go.

"On this short notice? That is a lot to ask for."

"That's true, but we do still need to go somewhere. Even if we can find a free room in a ramshackle inn, or something..."

'Ramshackle? What kind of old man am I?'

As I internally chided myself, Tessie's gaze snapped back to the two of us -- and she'd uncross her arms to snap her fingers together.

"I've got it. Come with me, all of you -- I know a place."

--

An hour-long walk placed us on the outskirts of the city. Looking back, I could faintly see the forest we'd come into this Singularity in -- from afar, it certainly had looked rather large, taking up the vast majority of the southern end of this place.

The faint sound of blowing wind moving through the grass of the outskirts proved to be one of the only things that kept this place from utter silence -- despite the light polluting the environment, lighting up the innards of the city even from where we were, not a single sound could be heard.

Even so, however -- no matter how quiet the city was, or how 'normal' its greyish buildings and lamps looked from afar, there was one little caveat that was alerting us to something wrong.

To our left sat a hotel, suspended by chains.

"Here we are! We call it the Float Apartments, but they only have a couple rooms filled. I think you can rent out some of the rooms as you would a hotel."

Tessie's bright voice drew my attention for a moment, watching her point to the 'apartment' as though all were perfectly normal.

True to her words, the place was 'floating.' Despite the flat environment surrounding the city, there seemed to be a chunk of rock hovering impressively high above the ground. Even trying to look for some sleight of hand, something holding that chunk of land above the ground, nothing seemed to show itself -- not even so much as well-placed fishing wire to partially explain what was happening.

The apartment itself didn't hold much answers either. If one ignored its floating qualities, it did only look like a mildly ramshackle, two-story complex, more wide than long -- with off white walls, a tan flat roof, and silver chains placed on its sides to hold it up. While its entrance was at least accessible thanks to a slight hill leading up to its front doors, it seemed just as much hovering as the rock -- though one could assume the rock were holding up this hotel, that seemed about the only thing that could be answered.

And even if it could, one question still remained.

"...Why?"

It took a solid few moments to note that Ritsuka was already preparing themselves to enter -- with Tlazolteotl taking a spare few moments to record something in her notebook, eyeing Tessie carefully, before clamping it shut and following suit.

As for Tessie herself, in response to my question, only smiled.

"The King allowed for a lot more aesthetic design, as of late. Before he vanished, he bestowed upon our Capital some interesting properties!"

'...The King.'

It's not a name I was unfamiliar with -- although Ritsuka froze in the middle of their trip to the entrance, looking back at Tessie with an expression best called 'shock.'

"The what?"

"The King, don't you know? My, I suppose they don't talk much of them outside the province after all. They rule over Canada, and maintain peace."

Ritsuka furrowed their brow, but nodded and kept moving -- gesturing to me, and the others, to follow suit.

Knowing what little I knew about the King, it did explain a small bit -- monarchs in general were subject to strange decisions now and then, and they were no exception. With the magic I'd thus far seen, it hardly seemed out of the question to make that rock float.

With that explanation in mind, I slipped into the Apartments -- followed shortly after by the others.

--

'...It's familiar to me.'

'As the resident Caster, it only makes sense I would know that the floating rock is magic.'

The Caster of Rakugo followed in the steps of Gorgon, passively whispering prayers and spells of 'alteration' to cast an illusion over her tail. To make it seem as though slightly jointed -- while hardly obvious, just the littlest of hinges would make the tail seem far less biological in nature.

Yet, his mind remained on the floating rock. Even a 'king,' surely, wouldn't waste their time empowering a specific rock to float.

...But at the same time, didn't that also make sense? Kings were foolish people -- they weren't dissimilar to lords of the land he knew, both in stories and in his own life. Acts of power, even beneficial ones, were often done just for the hell of it. To send a message.

...He couldn't shake the feeling the magic was familiar to him.

--

The inside of the hotel was remarkable in how unremarkable it was -- especially when it was all too easy to hear the creaking of the chains from the inside. Simple, if dated wooden flooring, with off-white walls and wooden baseboards stained to a slightly dark brown. As I took further steps in, weak wall-mounted lamps illuminated the shopkeep -- a golden-eyed, golden-haired man with a wide smile on his face, waving to us as we walked in.

"Why hello there! It's rare we see someone come in unless they have to, let alone... so many of you."

The receptionist's calm voice was almost enough to steady my nerves -- most likely, he was already well aware of the atmosphere the hotel set for itself, though his best attempts weren't quite enough to shake the awful feelings the literal chains creaking were putting in place.

A glance to my right saw Ritsuka shoot forward just as Morgan furrowed her brow and began to walk to the man -- taking over before the queen even had a chance to say anything.

"Well, times are a little rough. We got pretty lost on our way back from a friendly mini-Renaissance fair, and the fact a fair few of us aren't quite sober isn't helping. Me and my buddy are about the only ones who stayed above the table, but..."

As Morgan breathed out softly -- with Kagekiyo elbowing her gently -- the queen stepped back a bit.

The receptionist nodded after mulling over Ritsuka's tale for a moment, sliding to a small outdated computer monitor -- likely to start logging rooms for us to borrow.

"Well, don't worry too much about it. I'm just gonna assume you're dead broke, right?"

Ritsuka paused for a moment, but then relaxed their shoulders and continued.

"Yeah, just about. Unless you'd count a couple yen."

...Ritsuka sputtered, after a moment.

"--I'd forgot to exchange that for canadian money."

'Nice save, buddy.'

The receptionist didn't seem too bothered, laughing it off before making a few last clicks -- and, rummaging under the table, passed myself and Ritsuka a key, and attempted to hand a key to the others as well - before being met with a collective 'I'll pass.'

...Save Caster, who was for all intents and purposes a minor, and one could only assume the receptionist wasn't keen on having the little guy hold up a room.

"...Only two rooms? You have, what, eight people? Can you..?"

Ritsuka interrupted the receptionist with what could best be described as 'the cheekiest wink ever conceived by man,' before taking a step back. The receptionist, while briefly caught off guard, responded in tune with a wide grin - and, sending an equally cheeky wink my way, pointed down the left wing of the apartment.

"Your room should be that way, friend. It's got some extra room, comparatively."

...I could only whisper out a flustered 'thank you' before slipping off into the hallway, only catching the receptionist escorting Ritsuka into the rightmost wind before I came across my door.

'...Room 103.'

...I breathed out, and opened the door.

--

A car speeds down the Carcosan highways.

An ambulance, without its hazards on.

One could hear the equipment moving about, sliding about what one could presume to be closed cabinets, if they were to listen closely as it shot past them.

In its driver's seat --

A man, clad in black -- a large, flowing cape with a black exterior and purple interior. Remarkably poofy black sleeves, and a baggy black button-up shirt. Even their pants, boots, the feathered cap they wore -- all were completely black. Their hair, forced into the massive hat, wasn't visible at all.

And their mask -- black, covering the upper half of their face, a mustache attached to the bottom of the mask's 'nose.' The only highlights, of course, were rosy-red paint on its 'cheeks.'

A doctor by trade. A doctor they were -- on the case to find someone who they knew needed their help.

Their locket bounced on their chest, as they ran over a speed bump. Sparing a glance behind them, the doctor would smile -- looking over their tools of the trade.

Scalpel? Check.

Basic Medicine Cabinet? Check.

Tourniquet material? Check.

Wrench? Check.

Certainly -- they would help them now.

--

The room was, yet again, remarkably unremarkable.

The floorboards creaked as I stepped on them, the sound of the chains thankfully more distant than before.

In the moonlight, only a shoddy desk lamp and the worn room light could illuminate this temporary home -- a warm, yellow glow illuminating just enough to at least see what needed to be seen, even if the corners of the room still remained dark.

'...It's almost nostalgic.'

As 'edgy' as it sounded, it felt more homely than the Chaldea base. The poor lighting, the soft moonlight, and the creaking of the floorboards reminded me of my old home in Toronto.

A bit cheap, certainly -- but it was home.

Though, there was one major difference, now.

"...Husband."

A commandeering voice, coming from the door, but one that didn't wait for a response.

The door opened quickly, revealing a familiar white-haired woman in a black-and-blue dress. She made some haste in settling herself on the first of two beds -- the one closest to the window, of course -- sitting down and staring me down with those ever-chilling blue eyes.

"...Tlazolteotl has asked the others to do something for her."

After a moment passed, I nodded, taking a seat beside her on this bed -- though her gaze didn't move at all from me.

"Did you get out of it, or something?"

At that, Morgan chuckled slightly -- adjusting herself to better face me, closing her eyes for a moment as though in thought.

"A ruler needs her spare time, husband. If I am to rule England, the first mistake is overworking oneself."

...Biting my tongue as to not note that she hadn't done much in the singularity yet, I instead moved on.

"...And you're spending the time cooped up here?"

"Someone should stay with you, no? You hardly keep well when you're alone for too long."

'...Did she have to be so blunt?' Even with that, I laughed a bit to clear my nerves, my hands locking together, fidgeting with my thumbs.

"...I suppose so. Even so, isn't t-"

"--Silence. You wouldn't question the acts of a perfect ruler, would you?"

...I'd nod, breathing a sigh out. Those words of hers never ceased to be truly blunt -- rarely ever focused on anything apart from the inevitable rule of Britain.

Even so, to say that was the only motive was...

...

"...Morgan?"

"What do you need of me? Have you finally worked up the courage to allow me to call you 'H--"

"--Not quite!"

Cutting her off at speeds that shocked even myself, I'd forced myself to continue before she could think up anything else that I'd need to prepare my heart for.

"...How would I help you rule Britain?"

...I couldn't help but be curious -- to ask, with the two of us alone.

"...I ask genuinely, Morgan. I'm... not a hero, nor am I a ruler."

...The ruler raised an eyebrow -- but still, she paused. To give a decent answer.

...Even so, after a moment, she'd furrow her brow -- reaching an arm around me...

...And pulling me onto my side, before I could even react, my head falling into her lap. The Queen only smirked as I tried to process this momentary act -- her gaze remaining, down upon me like a laser beam piercing through my eyes, into somewhere deeper.

"...Don't think about those things, Husband."

...

"My actions are all for the rule of Britain. Such things come before all else. A hero, a ruler, cannot by themselves understand their subjects."

...I blinked, trying for a moment longer to try and figure out just what she was implying -- but she spoke up yet again, as though timed to derail my thoughts.

"...A ruler mustn't overwork themselves, and they cannot always be alone. I choose those who I prefer, to be near me, so I may rule more properly. It need not be more complex than that."

...I breathed a sigh out, once more. It only seemed ever clearer to me that a straight answer from a Berserker wouldn't be possible to begin with.

"...Rest, husband."

"Shouldn't you be the one resting, in that case?"

"...A ruler, even while taking a break, should not shirk what duties they have. It is relaxing enough to be here."

...The Berserker smiled, after a moment -- and, giving up the fight, I'd simply nod my thanks, and close my eyes, just for a moment.

--

'...How would I help you rule Britain?'

A curious question indeed. The Berserker furrowed her brow, running a hand through her Master's hair.

Certainly, on paper, a mere 'person' like Cadence would make for a very poor king. Cowardly, reserved, unwilling to take risks -- paranoid, and easy to get worried.

And yet...

"...Set aside your differences. Don't you dare cause any fights right now, and... Don't let him worry about the small stuff."

...The words of the Mesoamerican goddess troubled Morgan greatly. This man, one she was willing to rule with, was now being prevented from hearing what matters a ruler should know. She had to allow Cadence to forget the worries that should come with being a king -- she had to let him rest.

"If all goes well, we can discuss all of these things after the Singularity. But not before."

...She supposed the Carcosan Singularity was an obstacle to her rule, regardless. Reasoning with herself, the Madness that gripped her mind, she came to the 'natural' conclusion -- that this was a kingly duty, and one she had to aid.

...

...She kept her gaze on him -- not letting up, save only to blink.

As though he'd disappear if she looked away.

--

My eyes slowly opened to the sound of sirens -- as someone's hand gently shook my arm to awake me.

"Husband. Tlazolteotl is calling your name."

"...Huh?"

After a moment, I slowly lifted my head off of Morgan's lap, standing up and pinching my cheek momentarily to try and get myself ready.

"CADENCE! QUICKLY!"

The familiar voice of Tlaz, however, proved to be what spurred my mind to move -- as Morgan opened the door, glancing behind her as to not trip on anything, I ran out, and turned left--

--directly into a masked man clad in black, who quickly took hold of my hood, and began running, dropping some sort of mask on the way out.

"Who-- Who are you?!"

"A roaming doctor, child! And I had heard pray tell of an injured man this way! Falling in a forest is a prime indicator of a stressed mind!"

Footsteps could be heard behind me -- with a spare glance back, before the man forcibly pulled me, it seemed to be Morgan.

"--Come back here, you damned..!"

--Yet, the doctor forcibly held me up behind him, now running backwards, as they entered the lobby. Without the receptionist that was there prior --

--The doctor forced himself out the door, with Morgan hot on the trail, yet she found herself caught in a moment's time.

By a knife, suddenly before her -- that she only just managed to avoid.

"...Is that..?!"

With every step forward, another knife she only barely dodged -- setting her on her heels, backpedalling to regain her balance.

Despite her gaze being locked on the doctor, despite every step she took forward, it seemed -- just as suddenly -- like her body began to force itself to avoid that blade, that materialized in the air, and dematerialized just as quickly.

In my helpless state, stuck watching the ruler be caught in a loop of avoiding the same blade, I found the tunnel vision obscured the ambulance doors that now shut in front of me.

...

...The lights turned on.

Around me -- motor oil, gears, pistons. Motors connected to various power sources -- even weapons, attached to mechanical structures that hardly made sense even to me.

In a moment, before I could even comprehend what I was thrown onto, clasps on the ambulance's 'bed' locked me in -- and judging from the sudden speed increase I could feel, the ambulance was already well on its way.

As I blinked to try and get a hold of my surroundings, the masked man that took me finally came into view -- my peripherals returning, despite the adrenaline still running through me.

"Good, good! The hardest part is handled. Now, dear patient, you do understand that stress takes a toll on the mind, right?"

Even as he spoke, I tried to pull against the restraints -- but, of course, no dice.

"I'll take that resistance as a 'no.' You should know that if your brain is stationary too long, stress begins to build. That, truly, does not bode well for you."

...Another pull against the restraints -- but I froze, momentarily, as he spoke. 'What the hell is he talking about..?'

"Now, dear patient, I have to check for indicators of stress in the brain. I've done this before, rest assured!"

The man walked to my left -- his hands rummaging through what sounded like a duffle bag.

"All I had to do was go into my patient's skull and find the parts of the brain that were stressed -- and deal with them."

...The man turned around, holding two splintered wooden stakes, as though ripped straight from fresh lumber.

"Of course, the pros -- unwilling to accept the fact that you should 'rest your brain,' or cut off the stress in your life -- voided my medical license! But it hardly matters now, does it? After all, I did get a medical license, so who cares if I lost it?"

'What does he..?'

The man stepped to his right, and procured some sort of metal slab -- crafted into something akin to a cut sphere, as though a third of it had been cut out -- and wire had been placed at its end, running downwards.

"Now, rest assured, patient -- I'll be making sure you must only do this once. Because I have a permanent solution to stress, and it beats simply resting your mind and returning it after."

...Something gripped my throat, at that moment -- siphoning my breath from my lungs.

The man smiled, positioning a stake in each hand -- and stepping forward, leaning over me from the right.

"Keep your eyes open, dear patient. Hurts less that way."

The man laughed a moment, as though just preparing a filling, positioning the stakes --

I'm finding myself unable to breathe, all of a sudden. Those wooden things, suddenly above me -- their sharp, splintered edges lowering themselves down...

The cold, sharp hands tear at my spine, my lungs. I shudder, unable to move -- a clasp around my neck secures my head in place.

The man in the mask smiles.

"The brain is ultimately just a biological computer. A very fragile one, however - weak to age, disease, and stress alike. It needs breaks. But it is still a computer."

Another clamp. My eyelids are forced back. My breath quickens, but I'm getting no air.

The hold of the beast is tearing holes in my lungs. I breathe, and it isn't enough.

I can't even speak -- not enough to use the Command Spells. And as the knife had stopped even the Queen, surely...

"A computer can be replicated if you know enough about computers. A perfect computer, that isn't harmed by stress nor by misery. You can simply remove those feelings."

He takes a moment, glancing from the 'brain' to me.

"No matter what, if the data is copied properly, you will believe you are 'you' -- even if your brain is fake."

...He leans over me, smiling. In a moment, he stared deep into my pupils --

"Isn't technology amazing?"

--and the stakes suddenly fall.

[ace-oreos]

You must be so sick of alpha and Fordo asks but you’re latest fic has given me angst potential- maybe a one-shot with alpha working with the bad batch to find Fordo post order 66 an him just breaking at the seams when he finds his Vod because he thought he lost Frodo like he lost Sev. Tears and man hugs ensue

Oh I am NEVER sick of Alpha and Fordo asks - they’re such a fun chaotic duo to write for. :D Also, Alpha working with the Bad Batch is something I never knew I needed until I saw your ask and I would absolutely write something with all of them again. I cannot express how difficult it was to not go off on a tangent about Hunter.

In true Sev style, I chose Kashyyyk as the main location for this one. It’s just so useful for these kinds of things.

Also. Y’all. I did not realize until I was four pages into this that I forgot Echo. So uh... whoops?  😅 😂 With that in mind, let me warn you that this is WAY longer than the other fics. I have no idea what happened. I have no idea what I’m doing.

Also also, thank goodness for Wookiepedia lmao

Edit with tags: @dudewhynotthis @merspots @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @delta-the-mando (taglist is open!) 

“Captain.” The sergeant keeps his distance even now, face inscrutable as he surveys Alpha. 

“Alpha,” he corrects half-heartedly, more for the sergeant’s sake than his own. 

“Alpha,” Hunter amends. “We’ll be entering the Mid Rim soon - maybe an hour, hour and a half tops.”

“Good to know.” Alpha knows he sounds despondent at best, but he’s hit enough dead ends by now to know all too well this will likely be a fruitless endeavor. There’s nowhere in the galaxy safe from him - not when his brother’s life is hanging in balance.

But it’s a big galaxy, with little regard for individual yearning or emotion. Alpha can vow to upend the galaxy as much as he likes, but the fact is they’ve only so much time, and only so many resources, and...

And maybe Hunter picks up on that, in that way of his as he observes Alpha without further comment. The sergeant is as much his vod as anyone else Alpha has encountered. Still beyond him sometimes, a little too other for Alpha to ever fully mesh with him or his brothers, but he’s a good soldier. A good man. 

“We’ve always got room for another,” are Hunter’s parting words as he makes his way back to the cockpit. 

If you find out your brother was dead all along. 

Alpha doubts it was anything less than a genuine offer, but it isn’t the only route. Not until I’ve exhausted every other option. And even then....

It doesn’t do, to let himself become so intertwined with a brother until he isn’t entirely sure he knows who he is without the other. He’d tried, both for his brothers and for his own peace of mind, to put a stop to it before it went too far. And maybe that was Jango getting in his head more than Alpha ever should have allowed, but he’d thought it was the right thing to do.

Sometimes I can’t help but wonder...

________________________

“ - you know as well as I do we’ve been going in circles for weeks now - ”

“Yeah, you might’ve mentioned that once or twice…”

“You said it yourself - we’ll get ourselves killed if we aren’t careful.”

“So we’ll be careful.” Hunter’s voice holds a note of finality. “We can keep rehashing this conversation, or we can help a vod.”

Alpha doesn’t catch the muttered reply, but it’s hardly amenable, if Hunter’s sigh is anything to go by. He can’t blame them, really - Fordo isn’t their brother, and outside of combat they’ve little common ground. And it’s only natural for Crosshair to raise the questions none of them are yet ready to face. Alpha thinks he could learn to like the man, given time. 

He reigns in his thoughts before entering the cockpit. The least he can do is put on a rational front. This whole thing isn’t at all rational, but the Bad Batch seem to understand better than others. It runs deeper than brotherhood here, whatever it is, and Alpha is irrepressibly reminded of Fordo, somehow - 

(And osik, does that thought burn, dig under his skin to remind him once again that he failed, that should he redeem himself it will be not on his terms but likely an inconsequential whim of a galaxy that cares nothing for them or everything they’ve fought so hard to hold on to - )

“Y’know, I’m not sure we’ve ever been to Kashyyyk,” Wrecker muses. “That’s a first.”  If he’s trying to divert Alpha’s attention from Crosshair, it’s a skillful effort that almost takes Alpha aback. “‘Course, I only remember the fun parts,” he adds as an impish afterthought.

“Anything with explosives, you mean?” Alpha asks drily. 

Wrecker grins. “Something like that.”

You and Fordo would get along fine.

What leaves his mouth is, “I don’t suppose anyone has any relevant information about this place?”

Right on cue, Tech pipes up from his position alongside Crosshair. “Actually…”

Tech is just as much of an efficient distraction in his own right. It’s not exactly the height of strategy on Alpha’s part, but once again it redirects attention. He has no doubt Hunter sees right through it; still, the man has enough tact to refrain from commenting.

You understand, I think, Alpha decides, watching exasperation and amusement play across Hunter’s face in turns as his brothers’ bickering fills the cockpit. You would go to hell and back for them, wouldn’t you, Sergeant? 

Hunter casts him a wary glance. Alpha holds his gaze.

There’s too much we can’t say. It’s okay, vod - I think I’m starting to understand too.

________________________

Kashyyyk is dishearteningly vast, all sprawling jungles and endless island chains set on a swath of ocean that dissects the planet’s hemispheres. Getting in was no easy task, what with the Imperial blockade cutting off the planet from others in its sector. But Tech’s adroit piloting had come through, and they’d slipped past the blockade with little disturbance.

“You really think your buddy is here?” Crosshair asks dubiously, surveying the area with a distinct air of displeasure.

“I’ve seen the records,” Alpha says, as much to reassure himself as the other man. “The Empire’s tighter with the book-keeping, I’ll give them that. Fordo’s unit lost contact not long before Order Sixty-six went down. If they made it out, it would be on record somewhere.”

“And if they didn’t?”

Alpha battles his temper into submission before replying. “Then they would be confirmed KIA. But they’re still listed as missing as of two weeks ago.”

“Sounds like you’re leaving an awful lot to chance,” Crosshair opines. There isn’t malice in his voice so much as an unmistakable note of disapproval. “What’s your plan if it turns out they were just waiting for reinforcements and pulled out days ago? That leaves us here in the heart of Imperial occupation.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Alpha says grimly. “But if they lost comms before the order came through, then there’s a chance they aren’t with the Empire. Their main focus would be survival, not falling in line nice and neat like Palpatine expects.”

It’s clear there are a number of objections rising to the forefront of Crosshair’s mind, but the man keeps them to himself. There’s a conflict brewing there, Alpha knows, but that’s a matter to address at another time. 

“There’s an area south of here where all comm signals go dead,” Tech announces, tapping furiously at the device mounted on his vambrace. “According to intel, the Wookies call it the Black Forest.”

“Sounds inviting,” Hunter says. “What’s the deal with it?”

“A prison ship crashed there centuries ago,” Tech relays. “The Wookies believe it’s cursed, so they avoid it whenever possible. It’s possible Fordo and whoever was left were driven back by the Seps - or it was a desperate bid and he was banking on the droids not following somewhere they can’t maneuver well. But why cut himself off from allies…?”

“The forward operating base was set up in Kachirho,” Alpha muses aloud “There was another commando squad deployed here, but they were retasked shortly after Order Sixty-six. If Fordo’s here, I doubt he would hang around anywhere with high Imperial activity.”

If he were operating alone, the decision would be simple. But he has the welfare of four other men to consider now; one wrong move, and they’ll all end up on the business end of a blaster.

With that in mind, Alpha looks to Hunter. “Sergeant. What do you think?”

“It’s your call,” Hunter answers. “If you have reason to think your brother is hiding out here, then I think it’s worth taking a look. So long as we go careful, I don’t see why the Imperials should notice us.”

Wrecker’s chuckle fills the comms. “Famous last words.”

_________________________

For all that they have a reputation for being unorthodox - a reputation that is doubtless justly earned - the Bad Batch can pull off stealth pretty well, too. It comes as a bit of a surprise, if Alpha is being honest, but if nothing else the overarching threat of Hunter’s wrath is enough to keep them in line. 

“Keep an eye out for slavers,” Tech warns. “The whole planet has been a hotspot for them ever since the CIS first let them in.”

It’d be just our luck to run into slavers, Alpha thinks wryly. Individually they’re not much of a threat, but a group of Trandoshans spells trouble for anyone. Even without the training to back it up, their brutality can overpower even an ARC trooper. ‘Course, it’d be just like you to get into a mess like that, Fordo…

“We’ll be a bigger target if we travel as a group,” Hunter says. 

“If we split up we might as well ask for a death sentence,” Alpha cautions. Typically his first choice would be to operate alone, but between the slavers, the Imperials, and the remnants of the Separatist forces, he’s starting to think their strength might lie in numbers this time. 

Alpha mulls it over. Greater numbers means slower going. If we split up, we’ll be able to cover more ground. It’ll be risky, but - payoff is worth it. 

“We’ll move faster this way,” Hunter says, echoing Alpha’s thoughts. “Wrecker, Tech, you’re with me. Cross…” He fixes his brother with a stern stare. “Don’t do anything stupid. Alpha has my full permission to stop you by any means necessary.”

Alpha rewards the sergeant with a wolfish grin. “I’ll hold you to that.”

He can’t read Crosshair half as well as the others, but the sniper doesn’t appear altogether displeased. He merely shrugs when Alpha jerks his head towards the route they’ll be following, and trails after him without argument.

Silence lays thick over the jungle. There’s an odd rustle here and there, interspersed with faint growls from time to time, but progress is relatively smooth. Alpha takes pains to remain on guard; just because he can’t see a threat doesn’t mean they’re in the clear. 

Before long the silence is disconcerting. Given the planet’s Wookie population, there should be regular movement around them, or some sign of existence. But this stretch of the jungle is oddly lacking. 

“This doesn’t feel right,” Crosshair mutters. 

“Guess no one’s home,” Alpha answers absently, scrutizining the terrain. “Look - there’s no sign of a fight. Maybe no one was here to begin with.”

“Kachirho isn’t too far from here,” Crosshair points out. “You don’t think it’s a little odd that this path hasn’t been used at all?”

“It is,” Alpha allows, “but look at it this way. We’re traveling the way we’ve been trained to in this kind of setting. The Wookies probably have their own methods for getting around.”

“It’s still weird,” Crosshair decides. “And if your brother really was here, we’d have found evidence of that, too.”

He isn’t wrong, but it nonetheless stings to hear the man voice the doubtful thoughts that have been creeping up on Alpha. Still, we’ve come this far. What have we got to lose?

(More than he’s willing to surrender. But Crosshair doesn’t need to know that.)

“Let’s keep moving,” Alpha says, sharper than he intends. 

“Hang on,” Crosshair says suddenly. “Contact - ”

Alpha pivots in time to see a Trandoshan emerge from the surrounding foliage. The lizard is taller and more solid than he previously anticipated; instead of hitting it head-on like he initially planned, Alpha redirects in order to avoid being gutted on the lizard’s knife. 

He hears the shot and the telltale thump of the lizard falling to the ground. As Alpha picks himself up, Crosshair scans the area through the scope of his rifle. 

“Oh, shab,” the sniper hisses. 

It doesn’t take long for Alpha to locate the cause of Crosshair’s disgruntlement. A group of Trandoshans lurches towards them. Alpha does a rapid assessment: each lizard is packing some sort of ranged weapon - including slugthrowers, he notes unenthusiastically - and most are carrying an assortment of knives.

“Ideas?” Crosshair asks tersely. 

“They’ll just follow us if we run,” Alpha says. “It’ll save us trouble in the long run if we take them now.” 

“I can see why Hunter likes you,” Crosshair says, oddly nonchalant considering the circumstances, and fires. 

With Crosshair covering ranged attacks, Alpha elects the more up-close-and-personal option. The slavers have the advantage of size, but Trandoshans aren’t renowned for their intelligence. As long as he stays in motion the risk of having his throat slit is greatly reduced. 

Alpha targets a straggler first. He hits low, knocking the lizard off balance and sending it staggering into another. The other makes a grab for him, but Alpha is already ramming his vibroblade into the first slaver’s exposed neck. Using the limp body as a buffer, Alpha pushes against the other lizard, trying to force it onto its back foot. 

Just as he feels his opponent’s defense start to give, another three descend on him. Cursing, Alpha throws himself aside before they can hem him in. One of the slavers has enough presence of mind to bring his knife down on Alpha’s unprotected back; the force of the blow has him crashing to the ground. 

Alpha scrambles for a foothold, but one of the lizards seizes his leg in a vicelike grip. He writhes instinctively, kicking out with his other foot. He feels the impact more than sees it and wrenches himself free. 

Just as a third lizard fills the other’s place, there’s a crack from Crosshair’s rifle, and the lizard topples. Alpha springs to his feet to avoid being crushed by several hundred kilos of Trandoshan. The others are wary now, trying to divide their attention between him and Crosshair. 

Alpha doesn’t give them time to choose. This time he uses his blaster to put a round through the closest target. It’s not quite enough to put the lizard out of commission entirely, so he follows up with a quick succession of bolts. 

It’s not exactly an even match, but things aren’t going as badly as he first feared, Alpha thinks. No sooner does the thought cross his mind than his helmet flashes a warning. He turns to deflect the attack coming from behind, but he moves too late and steps directly into the strike. 

The slaver’s curved knife skids off Alpha’s breastplate and sinks into his bodysuit in the gap between the cuirass and the shoulder bell. Alpha manages to pull away, but not before the knife catches the underside of his arm and slices a gash halfway down his bicep.

A line of pain sears through his arm. There’s no doubt the Trandoshan cut deep into the muscle. That arm is effectively useless now; Alpha grimly switches his knife to the other hand. 

He doesn’t have eyes on Crosshair from his current position, but the rasping breaths and occasional curses over the comms suggest the sniper isn’t having an easy time of it either. Time to fall back and reassess.

“Let’s pull back. We might be able to lose them.” Alpha bites the inside of his cheek to suppress a hiss of pain when his wounded arm is jostled. “We can’t take them now, at any rate.”

“You might want to rethink that, alor’ad…”

Crosshair jerks his head to indicate the slavers pouring into the area. There’s a slim chance they’ll be able to slip by, but not without risking serious injury. Slowing down to accommodate a bad hit would mean certain death or capture.

Pinned down. Shabla brilliant. 

Alpha makes an effort to keep his rapidly rising alarm in check. “We’ll have to hold them off, then.”

“There’s no way,” Crosshair objects. “We’re outnumbered eight to one.”

Alpha sends a slaver sprawling rather than answer. He can see it as plainly as Crosshair, but he’s not going to lay down and die, not when his brother is still out there somewhere, not when there’s still a chance they could pull this off -

He hasn’t been this close in weeks and it isn’t his place to gamble anyone else’s life but his own, but even now he can’t bring himself to give in and he understands in a sudden flash of clarity that this is where he will always fail - because he has a foothold, now, and even though all logic points to turning back for once he can’t give in - 

An arm clamps around his neck. Alpha thrashes, trying to throw his attacker off, but now that he’s been caught off guard the lizard has an advantage. His vision begins to blur at the edges and he redoubles his efforts, fueled in no small part by panic at being unable to draw breath. 

He doesn’t know where Crosshair is anymore. He can hardly see beyond his own hands, scrabbling desperately at the arm locked around his neck. 

No sooner does his vision begin to fade than the crushing pressure on his neck abruptly loosens. Alpha hits the ground gracelessly, coughing violently as he tries to inhale. His breath rattles in his throat, but his vision gradually returns. 

He lurches to his feet and assumes a defensive stance as best he can. He’s lost track of how many slavers are still standing - too many is his best estimate.

But the man standing before him isn’t an enemy. He’s -

“Vod,” Fordo says softly. 

Alpha can only stare at his brother in stunned silence, momentarily deaf to the ongoing struggle around them. Fordo....

“Later,” his brother promises. 

______________________

“So how’d you end up running with them?” Fordo asks with a nod towards the Bad Batch. 

“It’s complicated,” Alpha says lightly. “Too much to unpack now, at any rate.”

Fordo laughs. He’s battered and weary, with something lurking in his gaze Alpha can’t quite decipher yet, but it’s Fordo, and that’s more than enough. 

“It’s quiet here,” Fordo remarks. “I like that.”

“‘S nice,” Alpha agrees. 

They’re still hovering just above the surface. Tentative. It’s not exactly what Alpha is accustomed to, but for Fordo’s sake he lets his brother take the lead. 

“Everything’s gone sideways, hasn’t it,” Fordo says suddenly. 

“It has,” Alpha admits. There’s no use pretending otherwise. “But we’ll find a way through.”

Fordo flashes a small smile. “You’re good at that.”

Alpha merely shrugs. There’s a thousand other things he wants to say, but he hasn’t the faintest clue where to begin. Finally he ventures carefully, “Y’know, for a while now I thought this mission did you in.”

Fordo lets out a long sigh. “I was starting to think it might, myself.”

“I…” Alpha breaks off, startled by the sudden pressure behind his eyes. It worsens when he tries to continue. “I don’t know what I would’ve - ”

He falters again. I care more than I should. I never should’ve let that happen, but even now I don’t know if I regret it.

“Alpha,” Fordo says softly, and pulls him into an embrace.

Alpha doesn’t know how much time passes before he finally disentangles himself from Fordo as gently as he can and scrubs at the hot trails on his face. He can’t quite bring himself to feel any shame over it. He’s never been given to such displays, but… Fordo is his vod. 

“So what’s the plan, alor’ad?” Fordo asks with a familiar note of mischief in his voice.

Alpha smiles despite himself. “It’s a big galaxy.”

“We’ve got time.”

“Yeah,” Alpha laughs. “We have time.”

[kooki914]

How would you rank deltarune's bosses?

That's a good question, honestly. I hadn't thought to rank them until now! I'll do the big bosses first, and then the minibosses on a seperate list because I feel like its not fair to compare a miniboss and a full boss. Also I ended up needlessly rambling (again) so I'll put it all under a readmore for the sake of not clogging anyone's dash.

So, bosses up first:

Spade King - My bias is showing, yes, but also I just have the most fun when fighting him. You don't have to think too deep about how to act, you just gotta dogde good and hit good. It's the kind of gameplay and strategy I love in RPG games! And the aesthetic of chains and prisons weaves perfectly into the thesis of chapter 1 and the general Feel of Card Castle up until that point. Also, the fact that the battle can be won if you just Stall long enough because Spade gets physically too tired to fight you, shows both how pathetic he is, but also that you still have a choice, even when it seems like he cant be beat without bloodshed.

Queen (Not Giga) - I love her attack patterns, I think they're very stylish, I love the battleground, it's a nice bright contrast to the final arena of chapter 1, and I love that Queen is just sitting in a chair the entire time sipping wine. She couldn't give less of a shit if she TRIED. And the mechanic where you have to drain her drink in order to progress is nice, even if it's there just to but an obsticle between you and Annoying McGeek.

Jevil - The only reason this fucker isn't number 2 is because his battle is infuriating. But!! I still appreciate the aesthetic of the bullets and their patterns. It's a very well-made fight, and I think it is ABSOLUTELY balanced because the mood it's supposed to set in isn't that of fairness and order, it's literally just chaos. Seeing his name finally turn blue when you fight him pacifist style is a rush of adrenaline like no other. I literally had to take notes when fighting him in order to predict what moves he'll do next. I like that!! It adds an unexpected meta element to his fight as you're literally forced out of your immersion because of how difficult it is!!

Spamton NEO - Not my favourite boss, if only because managing the shooting and the dodging at the same time should've been a more late-game addition, like it was in undertale, so you actually got fully used to the controls at that point. But other than that the aesthetic is On Point and all his attacks are just as creepy and unsettling as he is. Lord save me I still haven't beaten him in Snowgrave. Pray for me.

GIGA Queen - I don't like mechas. Unironically the weakest fight in the game. Not because it's poorly incorporated or anything, but just because it depends on you being emotionally invested in giant robots duking it out as the final battle of the chapter. I think it's a genuine downgrade, both aesthetically and thematically, from the Queen fight that happens 2 seconds beforehand. It's mostly just comedic and that's not really the mood you want for the emotional high point of the chapter.

Ok now onto the minibosses hoo boy let's see if I remember them all-

Werewerewire - Honestly I love this guy. Fighting him for the first time felt like a pleasure and a surprising breath of fresh air in what started to feel like a pretty drawn out and repetative area. Also his optional dialogue in Castletown is wonderful! Both in the Cafe, as well as the Dojo. He's just a swell guy!! Violent, yeah, but he's fun to fight!! It feels like a proper challange, not too difficult, not easy enough to beat without thinking 2 steps ahead.

K. Round - This is one of those fights you don't expect to be as intense as it is. Both on the board and in the castle, this dude raises the tension in such a weird way that it always puts a smile on my face. He's fun to fight and the change in approach between the first and second fight is very indearing, and indicative of the progress the fun gang's made as a team. AND he became an instant classic!! Good miniboss all around.

Sweet Cap'n Cakes - God this battle. You don't expect it to be as difficult as it is, but MAN these guys are too funky and funny for me to stay mad at them!! The fact that it introduces S-action and R-action is also a HUGE point in it's favour, because without that mechanic the rest of the game would be a drag. When The Boys attack, the entire battlefield with your soul on it turns into a hostile dance floor, and I really like that the difficulty is bumped up as high as it is, it really shows the number of people on a team, no matter on which side they're fighting, is important to the game's mechanics and internal logic.

Lancer/Lancer+Susie - I love me my ball boy, and honestly both his fights with and without Susie (and against Susie) feel satisfying as hell. They carry a very playful energy that really gets you into the swing of things until you notice this kid's an actual tank and is putting your life at risk oh god oh fuck. But really, I feel like the goofiness of his fights are a great way to counteract how moody the other areas of the game tend to be, ESPECIALLY the final Card Castle are and the fight with his dad. Lancer is just wonderful for narrative analysis and so are his battles.

Clover - It's interesting to note that out of all the bosses/minibosses, Clover, Werewerewire and Tasque Manager are the only ones who don't have a special theme. I wish they did, honestly, they're all really good fights against some really interesting characters! Clover is, at least in my opinion, massivily underutalised, when compared to how the other suits' underlings show up basically everywhere in the chapter. I love her dynamic between her heads, and the fact that you have to pay attention to NPC dialogue to know how to handle her. It's all very nice!

Tasque Manager - Not a bad fight! My only real issue with it is that it feels a little bit underdeveloped. The simon says part is an interesting mechanic, but I can't help but feel that THAT being her staple attack is a bit... weak? She could've done more with her whip (like how Spade pulls a lot of stunts with his chain, maybe even showing a connection between the two worlds in that subtle way), and the fact that it relies on previously established enemies is, again, slightly weak in my opinion. She should be able to stand on her own two feet and all that. But I gotta say, her minigame in the Dojo is satisfying as HELL to play!

Spamton - ew ew ew ew ew ew I hate this trash goblin. The only reason he's this low on the list is becasuse I don't like him as a character and all his attacks are annoying. His first battle doesn't capture anywhere NEAR the feel that his Neo battle does, and I guess that's the point, too? But, I dunno, even though he's one of the more developed minibosses (character AND mechanic-wise), his fight just isn't all that fun. And the buildup to it is creepy in a Very uncomfortable way (unlike the creepiness of his Neo fight that's genuinely horror themed), so just a big NOPE fest all around for me.

Berdly - Berdly. Once again, my bias is showing, but I have legit reasons for it this time. His roller coaster fight is all well and good (even though I feel like some of his attacks are needlessly overpowered for a nerd like him. Like c'mon how are you gonna give BERDLY stronger attacks than SUSIE had in chapter 1. HOW.), but it's his second fight in the city that I have the most issue with. Not only is it Nowhere Near a save point (meaning if you aren't great at the game, you're gonna need to make a long treck just to try one more time to beat his ass into next Tuesday), but it also just... takes a really long time, for what's essentially filler between two points in his character arc. Fuck Bird Brain Boy, is what I'm trying to say.

That should be everyone! If I forgot to mention any minibosses, let me know and I'll edit this post and add them in!

[kandyrezi]

– red carnations;

⌜anonymous asked: Ok so I know there's been a fair bit of Sin stuff, but I feel the need to ask - how would Sin react to her darling hunting her down to confess to her, despite her being in a relationship? They just couldn't hold in the feelings anymore, despite knowing that it's foolish to expect someone as incredible as her to be into them, etc.⌟

pairing: yandere(?) sin x reader (funamusea)

(a/n: there can never too much naga wife love to go around~ u v u tbh i’m not sure how cute of a scenario you wanted it to be, but i hope this is to your liking!)

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

The earthly scent of the flowers reaches your senses, in that moment it’s almost easy to become lost in a feeble, little fantasy where nothing in life can go astray.

You’re trying to wrap your head around what has possessed you to such notion involving you piecing together what was previously shattered to lost courage in order to get it off your chest. By how many times your heart beats above the norm whenever she’s near, you could almost mean it quite literally.

…she is married for Elux’s sake, how could you ever hope to think there being a chance of her returning your feelings?

What would that make you anyhow, a concubine of some kind to a harmonious marriage?

For the most part you are an observer from the sidelines; she is always busy, so you aren’t sure if there is a correct time you are supposed to approach her. Sin is nearly always in presence of her wife otherwise, so it would be difficult to get her alone. Unless you want to tell her you have feelings for her in front of Reficul or Mors, who would no doubt bury you alive.

You had no problem conversing and spending time as acquaintances before, but something quite clearly has changed if you’re behaving differently, leaving you to wonder if she would like an explanation for it – when she’d attempted to make small-talk at times when other demons were nearby, but you would more often than not, run away to avoid saying something you might come to regret in messy tumble of words. Now you were seriously re-considering and actually wondering whether admitting your deepest, inner thoughts out loud to the most powerful creature in Pentagram World would be an intelligent idea.

You find her near the edge of the precipice surrounded by pearly gates with rare sprouting orchids clinging to the metal poles, looking as the burgundy dusk settles and stars decorate in the sky behind the gate. It reminds you of a painting that would otherwise be dull were it not for the subject at the focus point to make it whole. You know exactly what – rather whom, makes it complete.

The weather is usually awful all-year around, but in this time of early night the stars had finally aligned for you. You had acquired the flowers from Alibe, who almost too politely allowed you to pluck them from his houseplant collection it almost seemed a little suspicious, but you barely cared about that then.

Minutes tick by in your head then – you go to approach her, but your footing fails you and you trip over a rock, falling off the hillside. You tumble downwards, painfully faceplanting against the soil-covered ground.

A familiar, concerned voice rings from afar a few seconds later.

“Oh! Oh dear, are you alright?”

Waiting for the vivid distortion to clear from your vision, you look up to see her leaning down, placing her palms on underneath your own to grasp your fingers carefully helping you back to mildly unstable feet.

“I’m alright, i-it didn’t even hurt…”

Not nearly as much as it hurt your dignity – or whatever scraps were left of it anyway. You wince, feeling a killer headache rapidly spreading through your scalp, no doubt a far cry from a developing bruise.

(stupid rock. stupid, stupid hillside. and most importantly – stupid, clumsy you.)

Before the mortifying ordeal of knowing you’d just embarrassed yourself in such manner can sink in, you quickly pick up the flowers, hastily try to wrap them together again to look decent, then extending your hand out.

Her gaze follows your mini-bouquet, observing it with curiosity now.

“Hm? Who are those fo—” the serpent doesn’t get a word in, before you blurt out a confession.

“I love you. I’m sorry.”

Covered in layers of dust and dirt from head to toe, you present her with spray made of red carnations. The low whistling of wind only continues to quietly breeze by. You mentally grimace at catching a glimpse of her blinking, being otherwise motionless.

Then she’s frowning.

You feel a pit forming in your stomach, clutching at your insides painfully—

“Dear, your nose is bleeding.”

You nearly gape, tongue stuck at the back of your throat. Sin slithers a bit closer until there’s almost no space left in between bodies.

“Allow me to fix that.” she says and wipes away the blood with a handkerchief kept in a pocket embroidered in her olive cape reaching down long as her hair. Folding the cloth together and putting it away, she places her palm against your temple. It fades away quickly as it merged; pain is no longer coursing through the area from where you hit your head.

(you nearly blush at being tended to like this.)

It’s still a morbid silence that becomes too much for you to bear. You were almost on the brink of wishing the Devil would emerge and slam you six– no, sixty feet deeper into the ground as far as the underworld goes for this foolish act… until Sin extends her arms to take the flowers from you, looking like she wants to say something about it, but an interruption cuts through when one of them begins to blossom and tilt upwards, petals extending, a mouth forming and opening, sinking its razor-like daggers into the serpent lady’s index finger, surprising both you and her.

‘Damn you, Alibe—!’ you curse that doctor in your head for ruining any and all zero point one chances you might have had at that point.

“Oh, what playful ones you are.” The serpent remarks to the plants, not looking deterred in the slightest as she hums a soothing tune to get the red crawlers to calm down, sharp teeth disappearing and eventually reverting to their original state of looking like regular pretty red carnations, petals stopping their shaking.

“Meat-eating plants are quite fascinating, aren’t they? Beautiful in appearance and quite curious in essence, but… they can cause a great deal of hurt if one isn’t aware of their actual, deadly nature.” she says – you swear you see something mischievous in the look she’s giving you, but you can’t decipher what it is.

“Y-Yes, they are certainly a source of interest…” you say, every neuron alert for any potential sign of displeasure, “I thought… you’d like them… maybe.”

“Now… would you like to tell me why have you been running from me as of late every time I try to talk to you?” she inquires, allowing the plants in her hands to now rest idly.

It seems there was no escape after all. You fumble with the hem of your shirt, not sure what to suddenly focus on. You suspect she probably knows your answer already by now, but as you wait a few minutes in silence, you realize she expects you to say it out loud.

“I… I was nervous because you’re the most extraordinary, elegant being in this world and I am just… nothing compared to you. Just one, ordinary blade of grass next to a grand tree that can reach even the far above skies and beyond. I wish I could offer more than what I am, but even that turned out to be a catastrophe in making…” you grumble, recalling that earlier mishap.

Your words cause her to go deep into thought for a minute and you’re anticipating her words.

She speaks again then, “How do you expect me to reciprocate your feelings if you have such a low opinion of yourself?”

You blink, confused at her answer, “I… h-how do you mean?”

“Do you not see yourself as worthy of being in my presence?” she asks, still cradling the gift close in her embrace, whilst her knuckles rest underneath her chin – you see the first sign of displeasure, but not from the actions you’d previously anticipated.

“Um, no, I… I want to feel worthy. I’ve been looking… just observing far too long from a distance, I think my own rotting heart would have turned to dust from inside out if I let this fire in me continue on burning, but now I’m not sure if I should have just let it happen,” you sigh, “I’m sorry for being a bother, but I hope you won’t hold any ill will against me for it… I just needed to get this off my chest.”

Before you allow your own inferiority complex to gnaw away your senses, Sin’s response back to you is almost immediate.

“You may have misunderstood me, it wasn’t my intention at all to dismiss your confession.” she says, with the same gentle voice you’ve become so used to.  She is even smiling with sincerity now.

“Your heart isn’t rotten in any way. In fact, you’re very cute with many things to admire. I know you always speak from the most inner of your soul, and… you should know I’ve reciprocate your feelings from the very beginning, perhaps with even more so the amount of passion you do, if you would allow me to show you more thoroughly, if my words alone are not convincing you.”

You feel foolish to the point you’re only able to quake slightly, swallowing the lump in your throat to clear your voice, “B-But… what about Refi— I mean, the Devil Queen?” you remember to address her with a respectful title for she is still technically your superior, especially in presence of her lawfully-wedded wife.

“I’m sure she won’t mind me having another beloved of my own. After all, love is meant to be shared, whether that’s between two unified persons or more.”

She gestures for you to place your hands towards her, as she hands you one of the very same red carnations you just gifted her.

“I… y-you knew all this time then…?” you accept the flower, holding it within your grasp, wanting to suddenly never let go of it.

“Darling dove, never shy from what your heart desires with this burning, ardent ache. I was wondering if I would have to wait for another eternity for you to approach me again to tell me about this.” she’s jokingly exaggerating her claim, but the words are not lost on you.

“I’m very perceptive of people’s emotions and it’d be sinful of me to lie and say I haven’t had this… desire to keep you all to myself alongside all my other possessions,” she tells you, offering you her hand to take, you swear her eyes are a deeper shade of red than you’ve seen before, “So, how would you like to accept my invitation to accompany me to my garden?”

You don’t need to think over your answer for too long this time.

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(a/n: this is also partially dedicated to Piralos, i don’t know if this was her request but since as an avid Sin worshipper lover, i hope you like this!! 🍷)