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rosesloveletters · 2 years ago

Text

Flame in the Dark.

pairing: John Milton x Fem. Reader

word count: 6,019

warnings: language, smut, irreverent use of religion/religious terminology (come on, he’s Satan, what am I supposed to do?)

summary: This was why you came to him, after all, because he could give you things that no one else could. // Just because you had difficulty coming to terms with an unattached sexual encounter did not mean that he did and he was showing you the way…

author’s note: whew! I didn’t thought this would ever see the light of day, but I’m pleased to finally have something to post for my readers. I haven’t written smut in almost two years, so please be kind. I’ve been dying to write for John Milton since I saw the Devil’s Advocate last summer and I’ve finally done it! Enjoy!

edited.

gif credit: miss-kt on tumblr

She is more precious than jewels, and nothing you desire can compare with her. Long life is in her right hand; in her left hand are riches and honor. Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace. She is a tree of life to those who lay hold of her; those who hold her fast are called happy. Proverbs 3:15-18.

There were only two separate sounds which reached your ears that you could discern amid the other thoughts vying in strict competition for the same recognition inside your mind: your gentle breathing and the crackling fireplace, which had cast the otherwise dimly lit room in an otherworldly orange glow. The space itself was cold and so you had taken up residency on the hearth beside the roaring blaze. Your gaze was trained on the flickering flames as they waltzed to an inaudible ballad, the delicate way in which they moved was a beautiful contrast to its highly destructive nature. You were mesmerized by it; your dilated pupils reflected their dance and the amber color illuminated your face in the dark. You had stepped into a realm of nonexistence and the cold air made your lungs ache. You ignored it, but the way your body shuddered betrayed you. The fire was warm; You were stood so close that you might as well be kindling, combustible under the intensity of the heat which radiated from the burning flames, yet the shivers that traveled down your spine never ceased. Perhaps your physical form had not acclimated itself to the change in temperature or it was the result of something far more sinister.

It was the sort of feeling that manifested from desire, of watching or of being watched, and being forced to remain impassive. The minor irritation turned frustratingly urgent, desperate were you to scratch that itch, to placate the tide rising within you and return to calmer waters. To suppress it any longer put one’s fragile psyche under far too much distress and discomfort.

It was where temptation met physicality, when seeing was no longer satisfaction. The only thing that was enough to satiate the fire burning on the inside was to act on it. The need made you shudder; nothing short of being burned alive would be enough to save your soul this time.

You could sense him watching from across the room. A carefully trained ear could pick up the nearly imperceptible clinking of ice cubes inside a glass as it was being raised to a pair of smirking lips. You didn’t need to turn around to know for certain that his eyes were on you. He sized you up from across the room while he fixed himself a drink, observing you whilst sipping casually.

It was slightly unnerving when he didn’t talk; you were used to his eloquence, but mostly the lack thereof. It was his irreverence that turned you on and when he did not speak it always meant the same thing: now was the time for action and impulse. He would talk, when he was ready; John Milton loved to talk, never at a loss for what to say.

It appeared he always knew what you were thinking and these instances seemed to play out at the direction of your inner monologue each time the pair of you came together; if one thing was for certain, it was that sex with John Milton was always a passionate, carnal affair.

If you were comfortable, he carried out acts at the height of human depravity; you were safe to explore that side with him.

He wore arrogance like armor that made him invincible, but this was more than what it seemed. This was self-indulgence at its finest and you were enamored by the endless possibilities which had been presented to you over the course of your employment at Milton, Chadwick and Waters.

This law firm was far from ordinary and you had sensed it on your first day, so why were you here? The atmosphere was impersonal yet the walls around you seemed to breathe; you had come here far too often to be offput by it.

God rest your soul, there was some compulsivity which had driven you to repeat the same mistakes and that was your heaven. Walking through those doors and into the office that belonged to the head of the firm was comparable to coming home to your Lord and revisiting the church after a lengthy sabbatical. Even if you were not religious by any means, there was a reason your mind went there. Stained glass windows in your mind opened onto the city and purified your thoughts but even that would not be enough to cause you to repent.

The part of you that belonged to him called you and tempted you further and further from the light. It was dark here, sans the fire burning in the gloom; Milton’s face was illuminated, yet there was a darkness within him no light cast upon his physical form would diminish.

“Come, now,” Milton’s voice in your ear made you turn and look at him, only to find him still standing behind his desk though you could have sworn it sounded like he was directly at your back. You suppressed a shiver as he regarded you and his eyes seemed to smirk, “have a drink with me.”

His dark eyes glittered in the light of the fire and he smiled in your direction, but there was a malicious edge to it which warned ominously ‘tread carefully.’

You ignored his request, “Why do I keep coming here, Mr. Milton?”

The head of the firm barked a sharp laugh like how he was prone to do and you forced yourself not to jump at the sudden sound, “I asked you to, dear,” he answered, conveniently sidestepping the response he had to know you sought, “You are welcome to go home after hours if you want, in fact, it’s strongly encouraged!”

Then, as an afterthought, “And please, call me John.”

He had asked you, hadn’t he? That was right; he had caught you in the hall earlier in the day and, when one thing led to another, he invited you to his office after working hours to have a drink with him. You knew how it happened, just not why. What purpose had you for coming here?

The repetitiveness played to your senses and yet you did not know what drew you here, “John,” you corrected yourself as you addressed him by name; the weight of it on your tongue felt heavy and tasted metallic like blood, “I know you invited me. I just don’t know why I’m standing here in front of you when I could be on my way home.”

He poured the liquid into a crystal glass without taking his eyes off you, “it’s tricky,” he said, “do you want to be here or would you like to go home?”

You couldn’t tell if he was being patronizing or not as you approached his desk and reached for the glass he offered you, “I would say that I wouldn’t be here unless I wanted to be,” you started, “but sometimes I feel like I have no control over my own actions. That might seem strange to you.”

“Not strange at all,” he reassured you as he sank down into the chair behind his desk, eyes never straying from their subtle assessment of you, “‘No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to mankind’. You make your own decisions, darling, but I can’t say I’m not pleased that you decided to spend the evening with me after all.”

‘I only set the stage. You pull your own strings.’

It was not the first time you had done this. Temptation led you here, into your own personal garden of Eden where the serpent laid in wait to pour its poison into your ear. It was your choice to make, yet each time you entered John’s office did you forfeit your free will. That was not the case, because you could leave at any time; you were holding yourself captive and the God’s honest truth was that you loved that feeling.

The smirk on John’s face grew as you gulped down the alcohol he had poured for you and you winced imperceptibly as the liquid scorched a path of fire down your throat; suffering felt religious when done right and you craved it every time you came to him.

Milton regarded you appreciatively as you perched on the edge of his desk. He was thrilled that you were so trusting the first time you had come to him and that he was the only one with permission to fuck you. You had not explicitly said those words to him, but heaven help the poorest of poor souls who might try, because hell sure wouldn’t.

He let those thoughts steep in his mind as he mulled over the connotations; you kept coming here because you wantedhim to fuck you, but nothing of such great magnitude was ever that simple.

“I’m glad I did too,” you answered him, “I was almost afraid I wouldn’t have the nerve to set foot in here again.”

“Why is that?” he asked the question like he was interested in the answer.

“Well…” you ventured, “after the last time, I-”

“Nonsense!” John waved away your insecurities like they were no more than a cloud of bothersome smoke wreathed around his head, “You’ve got to let go of that vacillation. Do you want to know what I think?”

You knew that he was going to tell you without even having to ask or venture a guess, so you remained silent for his explanation.

“You enjoyed yourself the last time. Didn’t you?” Milton asked, “always knew you were going to come back because you just couldn’t get far enough away from that ache you get in your core when I put you over my desk and worship you better than any one of God’s precious children does in church on Easter Sunday.”

This was no religious experience; John Milton was a crisis of your faith and without him would you have remained devout to that same hollow existence, devoid of pleasures many sought after only to deny themselves of and condemn those who did not. You had not thought of it that way before. Something about this man was strangely religious even if the deeds he engaged in were anything but.

Milton’s gaze never wavered or strayed far from yours as he got to his feet and parted your legs which were previously pressed together on the sturdy desk made of polished wood; your core throbbed at his words as you had begun to ache with need at the turn of the conversation. He was right: that feeling his words gave went straight to the place between your legs and there was nothing you could do to stop it from happening. It was no secret that your boss held power over your body and the reactions he drew from it both unnerved and excited you.

Milton placed one hand on either of your shoulders and with your knees apart, he stood between your parted legs, “you can leave, if you want,” he leaned close to whisper hotly in your ear, “but you and I both know you don’t really want to do that.”

His fingertips played with the hem of your skirt, tantalizingly dancing between fabric and flesh as he caressed you reverently. The dress code at the law firm dictated your appearance and attire; it was no secret as to why.

“How do you know what I want?”

The question made him smirk as though he were enjoying some private little joke with himself before he answered, “the same way I know what every person wants. We all want what’s been forbidden from us, to taste what our palates can’t handle only to prove that we can,” with one hand, he reached to cup your cheek, “you can. This can be whatever you want it to. Don’t pressure yourself to come up with a reason for it when you don’t need one.”

The dance you did with John was one of elegant footwork and aligned movements. A casual hookup for sins of the flesh, but it did not matter. You came to him all the same, for all the reasons you did not need or want; sex for the sake of sex…what a concept.

You were the one who closed the gap between your bodies, bringing your lips to John’s as you felt his smirk widen and his hand slid up the length of your thigh. The warm hand stopped at your panties and as you kissed, it began to explore. He made an appreciative noise as his fingers probed further; the barrier between your core and Milton’s fingers was already wet with your desire and that pleased him.

Suddenly, both of his hands were under your skirt, slowly stripping you of your thin undergarment and you broke the kiss to watch him do so. You let him slide your cotton panties down your legs until they fell to the office floor and he grinned at you wolfishly. You wanted to be furious that someone should have this much control over your body, but your brain translated fury into passion and that fueled the hellfire within you that succumbed to temptation so easily.

John’s fingers were back and that warm hand worked its magic on your clit, teasing your precious bud of nerves until it pearled under his skilled ministrations. Your body responded to his touch in a way almost inhuman. You let your boss forwardly grope you and fondle your most sensitive area as he teased you into submission.

You arched your back, fingers clenching the arm of his pristine suit and he chuckled devilishly at your reaction, “well, that was easy,” he commented with a breathy laugh, “don’t hold back, honey. That must feel good. Well, better than just ‘good’, I’d say. I’ve been around the block a time or two if you know what I mean.”

Your thighs quivered and it took severe perseverance not to spread them apart further in eager appreciation and with the demand for more, faster. Milton’s fingertip circled your clit as he played with the notion of perhaps giving you what you so desired.

Not until the length of his fingers sunk inside you did you cry out in bliss. Your sharp cries were music to his ears; whatever he had to do to hear more of them, he would gladly oblige.

John preferred to have sex in the pitch black. The fact that you couldn't rely on your eyes and had to use touch and sound rather than visualize what was happening interested him and kept him engaged. The only light in the room was from the fire and even the flickering flames were not enough to brighten his side of the room at such a distance.

John was all about pleasure. He truly would worship you because that was what kept you coming back to him. He loved the noises you made when he kissed his way down your stomach and how your body reacted to his warm lips, raising goosebumps on your skin. He delighted in your quiet moans of pleasure and the way your breathing changed with every pinch and knead of his hands.

Even if you couldn't see him, he could see you.

Milton scissored the two fingers he had within your warm wetness. If he was shocked by how wet you were from the penetration, he did not mention it. He had seen it all, but even so, he took none of it for granted.

You were near to collapsing onto his desk from the effort of remaining upright while he fingered you, “John…” you moaned his name breathily, “oh…oh, God…”

Milton scoffed as he doubled down, pressing his thumb hard against your clit and making you shriek with pleasure, “God… That’s who you’re thinking about right now, God? My hand is between your legs and you’re thinking about God? Because, last time I checked, He’s not going to get down off His throne in heaven to give you any relief. Don’t say His name again. I don’t see Him here.”

In this state you were uncertain of the truth behind his words and you did not care to know. His vehement request would not be ignored, but the only thing you needed now was John’s touch, his hands, his mouth, him.

“John!” You gasped, repeating his name like a sacred prayer and this seemed to satisfy him. John spread you apart, pulled daringly at your seams until you unraveled for him. He had learned what excited you and what made you incoherent with a fervent ache. He learned to interpret all those barely perceptible changes in your voice and the inflection of your moans and he knew precisely what he needed to do to give you orgasm.

But you were not coming yet.

John extracted his fingers from your warmth and you whimpered from how sensitive you were. A force beyond your control seemed to draw your eyes to his visage as he lifted his hand to his lips and crudely licked his fingers clean of your juices.

Unable to remain steady in your sitting position any longer, you allowed yourself a reprieve and fell back upon his desk. You laid spread for him like an alter sacrifice that John would use to further break the laws of God.

He helped himself to your body, a simple flick of the wrist and he had removed your blouse. With only your bra to cover your chest, you arched your back enticingly and reached for him, “John, touch me…” you gasped, wanting to run your hands through his hair and rip him apart like he was doing to you. You wanted to drive him insane with arousal; you wanted him hungry for you.

Milton swiftly removed your bra and exposed your tits. He squeezed and kneaded the soft mounds of flesh on your chest and pinched your nipples between his dexterous fingers. The stimulation made you squirm and squeal, feeling a flood of juices gush from your center as your pussy throbbed with renewed vigor.

You pushed your breasts further into his hands and your mouth fell open when he finally engulfed one hard nipple in his mouth, comparable to how he had done with your clit. His thumb gently caressed and rubbed the other nipple until you had tears streaming down your face, “John!” you screamed his name and suddenly was he taken aback by how loud you were being for him …he loved it.

He knew all too well how sensitive your breasts were; teasing both of your nipples to hardness was too easy.

Milton moved quickly from your breasts and, without giving you more than a moment or two to recover, he dropped to his knees, pulled you closer by your hips and swiped his tongue over your clit.

You squealed and twisted in his grip, but his hands kept you pinned against the desk. You were not getting away from him.

His tongue probed your glistening folds and penetrated your pussy to taste directly from the source. The longer he lapped at your fruit, the closer to release you became and he knew it; you were ripe and ready to be devoured.

“Oh, John!” you cried, “Please! Please, please…”

He loved when you begged with delirious rapture, delighting in the knowledge that you were ready to burst but couldn’t quite get there until he relented. You were close to tears, bound in raw and excruciating arousal and ready to cum at any second.

Making you cum was the most erotic reward of them all.

You could be tricky but he never had to work too hard to get you off. You were not used to such gratifying sex. The tricks Milton used were unfair, to say the least, but as his tongue currently plunged into you, you did not really give a damn. This was why you came to him, after all, because he could give you things that no one else could.

Perhaps it would change when he got you acclimated to having sex with him on a regular basis, but for now, your desires were being fulfilled the way you wanted and you were going to soak up every solitary second.

Even though you were very different people, when you came together like this, you fit like two centerpieces of a puzzle, even if Milton’s edges were jagged.

“John!” your sharp cry of his name came as a warning, “Fuck! I’m going to cum! Please…please!!”

He loved teasing you, driving you to the very edge only to leave you teetering on the precipice of that sweet release until you sobbed for it but he never pushed you over until he was ready for you to take that final plunge.

He loved to keep you guessing what his next move might be; you would whimper in despair when you were about to come, only for him to ease off you and grin in the dark when you groaned his name in frustration.

This time when he did, he made amends by gently kissing your inner thighs, aware of how sensitive the skin was there and he laughed at how your pussy was clenching around nothing, “aren’t you something?” he mused as he took in the sight of you laid there, his for the taking, “you must like what you’re receiving, since you don’t seem to be in any hurry to head for the door.”

You weren’t leaving until you got what you came for. You had known what you wanted from the moment John invited you here and it was foolish to deny yourself acknowledgement of that. He must’ve known, otherwise why else were you here? You were involved in a complicated relationship with the head of this law firm but, as he had said before, it did not have to be.

Just because you had difficulty coming to terms with an unattached sexual encounter did not mean that he did and he was showing you the way…

“John, please…” you whined, “I need you to fuck me.”

Nothing turned him on as much as your delectable moans and pleas. He wanted to touch and taste you for all of eternity.

John ceased his assault on your body and he peered down at you with satisfaction for your readiness for him, “alright, alright. I’ve had my fun, but you also seemed to like it,” he laughed as this time he used words to tease you, “but let’s get down to business, shall we?”

You hauled yourself into a sitting position once more and pulled John closer to you by his tie. Your hungry insistence made him laugh as he unbuckled his belt, “take it easy, darling” he cooed and patted your hair, “we’re going to get to the good stuff. It’s coming, don’t you worry.”

The air was cold inside of this room, but the passion John had ignited within you burned your skin. You were not usually this desperate; whatever it was that had taken hold of you here was relentless and even if you chose to fight against it would have been to no avail. There were unseen forces working against you and the choices you made led you deeper into this cycle of moral and physical degradation. You did not care how needy you seemed. If Milton had wished it, you would have been on your knees, and not in prayer, in a heartbeat.

Milton kissed you feverishly and almost as if he had heard your thoughts, he said, “there will be a time for that, but for now, your pleasure is mine.”

Under normal circumstances, that would have frightened you, but in your current state there was the possibility that you had unintentionally said your thoughts out loud. You were not in control of yourself, driven to carnality by the incessant urging of your boss and the things he was doing to your body and to your mind.

He unzipped his pants and you gasped as you hung onto him, giving in to desire as you kissed his jaw and neck. You wanted to kiss across every inch of that man’s body and if he really could read your thoughts then he knew that already, so half the work was done for you.

He had prepared you well and it was time to deliver; there was no time like the present.

“Lay down for me, darling,” he crooned, tilting his head and pressed a kiss to your temple.

You did as you were told, allowing him to help you lower yourself back onto his desk. His hands were warm on your skin and his touch was gentle; with your skirt rucked up and your top missing, you looked like a renaissance painting and John Milton was the artist.

John could have had any casual partner he wanted, but what interested him was not merely sex but the corruption. He wanted you, body and soul, to belong to him.

He never would have thought you capable of the level of intensity at which you fucked. He had never fucked so lasciviously and brutal with anyone like you and he had had more sex in this lifetime than he would have willingly admitted to you just yet. It was animalistic and licentious, loud and sweaty and at times he believed he had gone too far and was being too rough. But you were up for almost anything if it was with him.

It could have been soft and delicate, gentle and sweet in a way he rarely experienced. You could have spent hours together, cuddling, making love and kissing passionately, exploring each other’s bodies with rapt curiosity. It was moments like these, when Milton’s cock bore into you and you cried out for more of him, that he realized he could have taken all he wanted from you and you would have given it up without a fight. Humans were weak, he reasoned, at least their resolve was. That was the beauty of it: you were a pawn in his unending chess game with God, locked in a battle he could not win but would never stop trying. This made it worth every failure.

You, squirming beneath him as he gripped the backs of your thighs to hold you in position while he fucked you mercilessly. Every moan, gasp and call of his name stroked the ego of this vain fallen angel. You knew not what you did, how could you be to blame, but that was not the way things worked; Milton was using you for his own gain and you wanted him to destroy you.

You rolled your hips against his, but the brutal rhythm he maintained was far too much for you to keep up with. You panted with the exertion and John’s evil grin manifested in your view, “you alright, sweetheart?” he asked like you were merely having a conversation instead of your pussy being pounded relentlessly on your boss’s desk, “nothing you can’t handle, isn’t that right?”

You tried to respond but your vocal cords would not work beyond moans of pleasure and the occasional soft cry; you were so damn close.

John suddenly smacked your thigh and you screamed, “fuck!”

Seemingly pleased with your reaction, he chuckled as he thrust into you harder than before. You had never been fucked so thoroughly before and in the haze did you recognize your good judgement and how good it felt to finally let it all go. You had come here for a reason and this was it. John was your reprieve from the rest of the world, a righteous testament against what so many stood for and he would break down those same walls within you. He was proud of what he did; if not for his hands in many different pies within the law firm he joint-owned, this was the reason he came to work every day.

You needed redemption for your sins, but you did bad things for the sake these good times.

“John…” your breathy moan had his attention in an instant, though his pace never slowed. The expression on your face alerted him to your impending release and he bucked into you harder, angling himself within you to reach your sweetest spots and maximize your pleasure.

He stayed inside of you as you came. In the moment before you climaxed, he reached between your legs and massaged your clit through the intense release of pent-up tension. You screamed his name to the gods as the waves of your orgasm washed over you, radiating upwards through your body from your convulsing center.

Your pussy always clenched so tightly around him and sometimes you even squirted. It had happened previously when you masturbated alone, only once or twice, so it always came as a nice surprise at the end. You never thought another person would ever make you feel this good; something about John Milton simply was not human.

The mess that you had been reduced to was pleasing to the head of the firm and he was satisfied to let you lie there as he pounded into you, chasing his own release that he so thoroughly deserved after your own had overtaken you at his behest.

You were limp beneath him, hardly registering what was happening, only that this onslaught on your senses was welcome; you knew you would have a difficult time walking after John was finished with you.

Milton lost himself in your fall from grace and he had no regrets for what he had done here.

Hellbent, the reckless one.

He came inside you with a growl, pumping you full of his seed as it mixed with your own cum until the stickiness spilled from within you. Your overstimulated pussy twitched and your legs quivered as John let go of you. Before you regained your composure enough to sit up, though you were still rather shaky, John had cleaned off, zipped himself up and was buckling his belt again before he attended to you.

“Satisfied?” he asked as he grabbed your undergarments off the floor for you.

You nodded and your head felt like it was full of cotton.

John took the handkerchief out of his breast pocket and used it to carefully wipe up your mess before he slid your panties back on enough for you to shimmy yourself back into them, then he placed your bra straps onto your shoulders, one on each arm and directed you to turn as much as you could for him so that he could latch it closed.

If he wanted you to keep coming back to him, he would have to work for it and the challenge always made it worthwhile to him.

You were straightening out your skirt as best you could while still seated when John offered your shirt to you and let you put it on yourself.

Now, he turned his attention away from you and strode across the room to the fire.

Dressed and still in desperate need, of what you knew not, you gingerly eased yourself off your boss’s desk and turned to look for him.

He was standing by the blazing fire, the flames reflecting in his dark eyes and, unbeknown to you, even though he was not looking in your direction you were still very much within his sight.

He seemed distracted by something and you were curious to know what it was.

You approached him quietly and stood at his side by the fire. Your pussy throbbed deliciously every second or two and you could feel Milton’s cum leaking from you.

He smiled at you, placing his hands on either of your shoulders and squeezing lightly like a person offering encouragement after experiencing something immensely difficult, “I don’t want to send you on your way just like that, sweetheart,” Milton kissed your cheek almost tenderly, grinning at you like a devil, “no, you deserve so much more than that.”

You leaned into him, legs bent slightly; your mind settled on the press of his lips against your skin and the sound of his voice, not on how you were going to get away from him for the night.

“Something tells me you have more to offer than what we just did over there,” he gestured back to his desk, followed by a sharp, biting laugh.

You felt yourself nodding then, unbidden, but it felt so good.

“Atta girl! I’m proud of you.”

The praise he was giving you made you blush and his hands had fallen from your shoulders to your sides as he rubbed your now fully clothed body. He dragged you against him by your hips and you felt that he was already hard again, promising fulfillment in more ways than one. His stamina was something out of fiction and it did not make sense, or perhaps it did and you were too far gone to understand.

“But you know, it is getting late,” he countered his own invitation for you to stay for more, “if you’re too tired, you can head home now. I don’t want you to feel like you’re being forced to stay here.”

If this was a test, your answer depended on it and, without thinking it through, you answered him, “I’m not tired. I’ll stay for as long as you’ll have me.”

Milton was pleased with your answer, but the only tell was in his eyes. He sighed deeply as he released you and went to sit down in one of the chairs before the fire, regarding you in the dark as though you were an exhibit that was on display for him.

“’The tongue also is a fire,” he began cryptically; quoting scripture was something Milton did often, “a world of evil among the parts of the body.’”

You were unsure of how to respond, except that you did not understand his interpretation or what reason he had for bringing it up now.

“It’s funny how ridiculous it is,” the curve of his lips was sinful as he spoke and you could not pull your eyes away from him, “that the tongue we use to eat and for addressing our fellow man is intrinsically wrong for doing so, but I suppose there’s some truth hidden there.”

You were curious what John meant by that and why he even cared. The tension in the room was thick and cloying and you were drawn in by John’s charisma and charm as he spoke to you.

You sank to your knees in front of him, listening carefully as he continued, “it depends how you use it.”

He reached out and cupped your cheek the same way he had done earlier, with the utmost care and reverence for your delicate features. He wanted your attention now and he needn’t try hard to get it.

His thumb pressed down on your bottom lip and you opened your mouth slightly at his direction.

“Do you use your tongue for evil, darling?” he asked.

You looked at him and in that moment you swore the man looking back at you was seeing into your very soul.

With shaking hands did you give him your answer, reaching for his belt as you began to unbuckle him; better to show him with your actions than to tell him in words.

Instinct was there to guide you as your boss smirked at you, his face cast in orange firelight while you prepared to give back what you had so graciously received from him.

The air shifted and a sinister blackness settled over the room as Milton’s tongue flickered across his bottom lip, mimicking that of a serpent.

John Milton was baptized in sins you could not mention and it would be a tragedy just to commune with the likes of him; from hence, you prayed every night for the opportunity to do it all over again.

#al pacino #john milton x reader #john milton #al pacino imagine #al pacino x reader #the devil's advocate #biblio :: 📖#nsf/w :: 🌶️

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thecurioustale · 11 months ago

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You Should Read Shirley Estar Goes to Heaven!

Friends, tumblrs, countrymates, it is my rare pleasure to make a book recommendation that I've been looking forward all year to making. Winston Rowntree, of Subnormality fame, has just published his first novel—or, rather, his first conventional, text-only novel: Shirley Estar Goes to Heaven.

That link will take you to the landing page where you can learn about the book, watch the trailer, and purchase the paper and/or e-book editions. I recommend it very highly!

I realize that my excitement is not something that will automatically carry over to you, and that I have to sell it a little bit. So, in a SPOILER-FREE way, here is why I am recommending this book:

To get the selfish part out of the way first: Last winter I was fortunate enough to be a very early reader for this work, months before the main beta reading phase. A genuine delight, to put it simply. I haven't gotten my physical copy of the book yet (it just published, after all, and is in transit), so I don't know yet what changes may have resulted from my feedback; but, regardless, it's not every day that I get to have involvement with another artist's work before its publication—so I am very excited on those grounds.

More importantly, however, this book is painfully personal for me. It is a book about a person who can't. You would think they can. They are able-bodied, intelligent, and self-aware. But they can't. In cold clinical terms it is a mental impairment. Qualitatively, it is as though a watery pane of glass separates you from the rest of the world. You can see everything beyond it, but you can't go there. I have struggled with this since I was a small child, much more severely than I have ever fully explained, and I will never not struggle with it. It is the central dominating force in my life. This book is a book about that, except with dramatic elongations of the terrible shadows it casts. Anyone who has struggled with this illness or perhaps let us call it a fault is likely to be able to relate to this story in some way, and it is also a recommended read for those who don't suffer from this condition themselves but want to learn more about it. I particularly like one of the other early readers' pithy assessments: "Characters that you'll love but one of them will always do the thing you don't want her to."

Shirley Estar Goes to Heaven is a reimagining of Winston Rowntree's graphic novel from about fifteen years ago called Captain Estar Goes to Heaven, which old-timers may recall was (and is) also very dear to me. But this novel is a completely different work. It's uncanny, actually, because the characters and the flow of events are very similar, yet the story and the mood and the tonality are all different. Even the core themes have shifted somewhat. The artist has had fifteen years to grow in power and change in perspective, and the new novel makes full use of that transformation. It is a mature and intellectually challenging read. Not so much as in "the sentences are really difficult"; it's actually quite easy to read in that sense. But more like "you don't know where it's going but you're bleeding and you desperately need a band-aid so you hope really hard that there'll be a drugstore somewhere along the route." So, if you like that kind of thing, I can definitely recommend this book.

It's a sci-fi story, so if you like sci-fi then you have another reason to read it. And this book lives up to the name of "science fiction"; it's not just contemporary drama in spaaaaace! It makes creative use of the sci-fi canvas. There are some wonderful settings, futuristic conventions, and technological conceits. The sci-fi on display here is in many ways similar to and in many ways different from my own work. When I read it I saw that there are definitely similarities between Shirley Estar and my own Cherry from Galaxy Federal. But I think the most important comparison to make is that Winston Rowntree has his own pair of eyes and his own point of view, and approaches these issues in different ways and from different directions than I do. Shirley Estar Goes to Heaven says some things that I've been trying to say in my own work for ages, but it does so in ways that I never would or could.

Lastly, this book is also quite creative with its use of the medium, with decisions about the book's narrative structure and even its physical formatting serving to facilitate uncertainty and questions.

Anyway! I think I've said enough. Less is more, here. I don't want to tell you what to think about this story or even what to expect from it. But I do want to tell you what to do: Go read it!

#Shirley Estar Goes to Heaven #Winston Rowntree #Subnormality #Book recommendations #Galaxy Federal

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dreamsarebutterflies · 1 year ago

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I'm just throwing a rock in the water here but I'm starting to think Aziraphale and Crowley swapped places before the Fall.

Let me explain. :D

Someone on Tumblr noticed that Aziraphale mirrored some mannerisms that we saw in Angel!Crowley. He's naive and there are literal stars in his eyes when he looks around. Demon!Crowley is never shown as too curious, he just has an open mind and critic eye but that's all. When Aziraphale is always filled with wonderment no matter what he's putting his mind and body into. Aziraphale has a bookshop, collects the first edition of every book on the planet, probably. That's someone who wants to know, to feel, to learn, to understand. And then, there are the matter of all the prophecy books that he got dedicated. Why being obsessed with prophecy books at all if not to find an answer to a question Aziraphale so desperately needs answers to?

Aziraphale is cautious when Angel!Crowley starts to doubt God's plan in the flashback because even though it might be the first time any angel talk shit about Her, he seems to understand this is dangerous. The Crowley we know is a skeptic and sees Heaven and Hell as they are; he's pretty neutral, come to think of it. To me, there is no punishment for Aziraphale to be scared of at the time, not like after the Fall when they KNOW for sure WHAT is forbidden. What is right or wrong. So the Angel being worried in this moment, to me, would only show how much of an understanding he has of his political surroundings. I don't think that's Aziraphale's scene at all.

In this opening scene, we see Aziraphale worried for his new friend and coworker but he doesn't shut him down. Another person noticed how Crowley is annoyed with Jimbriel all the time. Except when the guy asks questions about why things are the way they are. And Crowley answers and looks calm, open, admits when he doesn't know.

This too. He doesn't know. 1) people mentioned working with him and fighting by his side, but he doesn't remember. He remembers working and fighting. But not actual details and people. He remembers a password tho? He's not the same person. 2) He says he doesn't remember but when creating stars is your passion job, you do know. Of course he "isn't the angel Aziraphale knew", and his memories has been wiped and it hurts to remember but since when did it stopped Crowley to get what he wanted? Surely someone as passionate wouldn't forget a rule as simple as gravity.

So, yes, it might be because he himself has been cast away because he asked questions that he showed kindness to Gabriel there. But perhaps it's more that he was used to hear questions and he learned how to response to this unusual behavior in Heaven when actual Angel!Crowley asked.

Since this opening scene with the creation of the universe, I feel like Aziraphale always reached out for Crowley even though he tried to keep his distance. He always kept a eye out for him. Seemingly knowing more than he lets on.

Side note: The wing thing is cute but also, wouldn't be more interesting to think the angel spreading his wing to protect his friend is actually the same both times? And the fact that it's obvious the one being smitten in this first meeting was Aziraphale BUT Crowley is the one coming up with the rainstorm and shelter as the perfect set up for love to happen??? Isn't is very strange that he is the one thinking about it when Angel!Crowley was just too giddy with what he just created to really register how romantic it all was? And Aziraphale being clueless to the parallel? Nah I don't think so.

My theory is that they swapped so angel!Crowley wouldn't be punished, might be because he didn't deserve it or he got "arrested" at a time when they had been swapped already. And since then, Aziraphale!Crowley would try to find a way to right this wrong. It would explain why, despite everything Crowley said about sides and Heaven and God's will in particular, Aziraphale still thought that reinstating him as an angel was the only thing to do here. And Metatron would probably know something about that.

Last argument is that, and maybe it's a bit far fetched but, both seasons mirrored each other in terms of narrative. The bandstand//bookshop scenes are obvious with Crowley's proposal to run off. There were some other similarities when it involved Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship. For example, Last time the main stroyline ended and we got to focus on our favorite pair, they swapped appearence to get away from punishment.

We all like to theorize about wtf happened in this last scene with them not having the same conversation, the kiss or how desperate and complex Aziraphale's reactions were (the outmost confusion). Is it because he knew the Metatron was listening? Because he couldn't face the reality of them as more than friends? Because Crowley here was going off road with a love confession which would change everything instead of a mere argument about what was right and wrong (one they had in the past and always came back from)?

Or was it because finally the charade could end and everything could finally be as it was supposed to be but Crowley had to go and say no thank you, its Earth, its this bookshop or nothing? Because Aziraphale didn't say no in this scene. There were many things he obviously wanted to say but couldn't and was frustrated with (probably because Metatron was listening.) But he never said no to Crowley. He said You and Me in Heaven as it should be.

Usually, Crowley is always on the left and Aziraphale is on the right. There are moments though, when this rule is not respected. And I think the simple fact that this "rule" exists at all is meaningful, more than we think. Symbolism? Yay. But also what about the prophecy and the bodyswap tropes as narrative tools??

Most of the time, Aziraphale follows rules and orders but when it comes to save Crowley, humans, Earth (as part of Angel!Crowley's creation), his obedience is no more. When they switch side in a scene, it often is in these moments when Aziraphale knows best and becomes braver than anyone else: when he critics, challenges, looks for order in a universe in chaos since the Fall. This is his rebel side that he contains the rest of the time. When he is like this, I feel like he is true to himself.

More than that, it turns out that Michael was supposed to play Crowley in the first stages of development???

This or they just agreed to swap before the gurls stopped by to talk about love when CROWLEY was tidying the shop, before Metatron offered AZIRAPHALE to reinstate the demon, before the plan had to change but they weren't on the same page. As if the lie was about to end or not to matter at all.

Just like the scene with the sisters in season one, when they totally misunderstood each other - thanks God, She was here to translate the scene but was nowhere to be heard in season two.

That's just a theory but the more I watch the divorce scene and the more I think... It wouldn't be so crazy. There are so many layers to it we keep uncovering.

#meta #neil gaiman #aziraphale #crowley #good omens

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milarvela · 1 year ago

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So Crowley and Aziraphale ended up together and had sex too? Why are people saying the last episode wasn’t satisfying then? Not enough kisses in it? The foreplay left viewers cold? Or is it those who said after the first series that there shouldn’t be anything physical between them, something about asexual representation, that are disappointed? Lol, bad, baity Gaiman for not giving asexuals what they so desperately needed. Plain, boring homosexuals are practically unqueer compared to them.

Anyone have gifs or clips of the sex scene(s)? All I keep seeing is David smiling creepily wearing a long gown and wings. Could be his orgasm face of course... (Edit: I saw a gif of them kissing. Even more puzzled about the "unsatisfying" last episode comments. Granted that the gif says the kiss was awful. No way to please some fans, I guess.)

As for Sherlock, the so-called baiting was actually joking. That’s what Mark said. Not his or Steven’s fault Benedict and Martin acted like they were in love. I mean, Mofftiss must have been weirded out when they realised how popular the show was amongst women and girls because of the way the leads were acting. Clearly not what they intended. Which is very different from any shows that start with the intention of making the leads end up together.

What with the fans being what they were like, and I’ve said this multiple times before, the ideal solution would’ve been to have Sherlock end up with some other man, other than John. End of debate. Not Johnlock but surely enough to end homophobia (fans said Johnlock would do that) anyway, unless for some unfathomable reason Martin/John had to be involved. And that couldn’t be it, could it? Especially after series four that killed canon Johnlock for good. Still don’t understand why they didn’t have Mycroft murder John. Oh well.

But I genuinely believe that Sherlock did some actual damage to my (and many others’) trust in media and in creators.

What trust? They’re not politicians. Well, I wouldn’t trust those either but why would anyone even think trusting a creator is a thing? Sure, you might trust in getting a quality show perhaps, but not their fault if somebody imagines certain things will happen and then they don’t. Not their fault if somebody reads all the Tumblr theories and expects them to become true.

The fandom got really silly after series three and that was after they had Mary there to signal that Johnlock wasn’t going to happen. But no, fans just brushed it off. Then there was series four and no matter how much John kicked Sherlock in it, fans waited for an extra episode to fix it all with a “it was all a dream”. Lol, why would anyone give a crap about the feelings of nutters like that? I mean, obviously Mark did, what with expressing his disappointment in people disliking the last series. Which makes me wonder why he simply didn’t give fans what they wanted then. Maybe he just hates women and can’t stand it when they enjoy an all male romance. Some queers are like that. Or possibly Steven “fanboys” Moffat thought the show needed more male fans to become more highly regarded and tried to concentrate on the (terrible) plots.

But let’s face it, the actors just didn’t act like they had before. Also, poor Amanda and Martin, kind of unfair to have them, a real life couple at the time, in the show as a married couple and failing at replacing Johnlock. Now that should make any fan proud of herself. A more massive fuck you to any creators is hard to find.

Benedict more than a decade ago:

youtube

I've watched a few interviews with the cast and crew of Good Omens and can I just say that, as someone who was a BBC's Sherlock fan back when it was still airing, it makes me so incredibly happy to finally have a show that not only doesn't queerbait (yes, the bar is in hell), but where the actors seem genuinely happy with and open about the queer direction the show is going in, and where they don't shame the fans for also being happy about this development. I just watched an interview with Michael Sheen where he, almost unprompted, brought up fanfiction and said that he thinks that it's a shame that people used to be weird about fanfiction because he thinks it's amazing and shows a love for the show. And... as someone who kind of still gets upset whenever I'm reminded of certain interviews and panels with the cast and crew of Sherlock (if you were in the fandom I'm sure you know which ones I'm talking about), this unabashed celebration of queer joy from the cast and crew of a big show like this is just something I could never have imagined as a young, queer fan!

I get that there are different circumstances, Sherlock fans could definitely be a lot sometimes, and maybe it's cruel of me to compare shows like this. But I genuinely believe that Sherlock did some actual damage to my (and many others') trust in media and in creators. It's one of the main reasons I absolutely didn't believe Our Flag Means Death would do what it did even when I was seeing it play out before my very eyes. It's why I didn't believe Crowley and Aziraphale would ever even come close to actually expressing their feelings for one another despite all of the queer subtext in season 1 and despite the cast and crew calling it a love story. Maybe all of this even added to my suspicions that they weren't going to follow through because we've all been let down time and time again.

And I'm not trying to pin the fault of queerbaiting solely on Sherlock and the team behind it - I am aware that there were many other big shows and movies that also queerbaited at the time. But out of all of those shows, I mainly watched Sherlock and it, along with the interviews with the cast and crew, were my main points of reference for what to expect regarding queer representation in (especially mainstream) media at the time. Which is why I'm mainly using Sherlock as an example of this unfortunate trend.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that with all of these shows now subverting our very, very low expectations for what kind of space queer characters and queer stories are allowed to occupy in (especially mainstream) media, I feel like my teenage self is starting to heal just a bit. But, both back then and in hindsight, I'm also completely baffled that a few shows in the late 2000s and early 2010s were able to get away with the shit they were pulling and completely ruin young, queer fans' trust in both creators and in their own media literacy.

#Sherlock #Good Omens #fandom #Youtube

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elfwoodfae · 3 years ago

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Writing’s On the Wall Harrison Eo Wells x reader.

Chapter 2- Specter.

Author’s note: I am so happy and excited for this new series. I hope sincerely that you all like it and let me know your thoughts, this new series will touch on darker themes up ahead in the future. Also tumblr is being annoying with the paragraphs that’s why they are so far apart.

I made this moodboard. I looked up and searched the photos and edited them. I don’t mind if you use it.

Part 1 (here)

A strange calmness falls over him; he turns around, opening his eyes for the first time in hours. He feels exhausted, having spend the majority of the night observing you. He chastises himself, he shouldn’t have done that, there was no other option, he reminds himself, he is desperate and frustrated. The sudden reminder of your presence this early in the morning angers him, a growl escaping his mouth as he sits up, the white linens of the bed pooling around his hips as he rubs his face with one hand, turning his head and doing a double take at the door, making sure is locked, he knows he locked it last night but the paranoia your presence has brought him makes him second guess himself.

His feet touch the floor first, he stretches his arms over his head, moaning at the relief it offers, his white shirt riding up enough to expose a gleam of milky skin; his hair is a mess of black curls, the expression looking back at him thorough the mirror is annoyed, tired, he splashes water on his face, he needs to wake up. The shadow of a beard is starting to appear on his chin, along his jaw and cheeks, he closes his eyes, rubbing the back of his neck and sighting before gripping the sink in a moment of fury where he wishes he could rip it out of the wall and throw it, shattering it into pieces.

How hard could it be to get rid of you? It wouldn’t be hard at all, it would be done before you could even draw your next breath, it would bring him more pleasure than beating Allen, but the consequences would be devastating, his rational side reminded him, there was not possible way to free himself from the torture of your existence without dooming his. Had Joe not met you things would have been different but he could see as clear as day the picture waiting back for him at the lab. Barry most likely knows about you by now, he knows there will be questions once he gets there, they will be innocent in nature but they will only serve to cement your presence into his mind.

He looks at himself in the mirror, admiring every detail of his clothes before he turns around, spotting his chair exactly where he had left it last night; he walks to it, looking at it so intently as if his gaze alone could burn it, hating the thing he punishes himself with. It’s for a greater good, he remembers. Wheeling into the main area of the house he notices all the lights are still off, he takes solace onto the fact that you are still sleeping, freeing him from your presence even if he knows it will only be for a few hours. He decides to leave, not wanting to take the chance of you deciding to appear and tag along, he doesn’t think of himself capable enough to not pull a Brutus a gut you in the middle of the day. This are also the only quiet moments he will get to think, to work on his suit, he sighs, there is so little time for him to use even when he is always alone.

The room is unfamiliar to your eyes, the bed linens are soft, warm, they smell of fresh cotton and clean clothes, it takes a moment for your memories to return, reminding you where you are. The room is dark, the curtains successfully blocking any sunlight from peaking in, there is no telling the time as you look around trying to get at least a sense of how rested you are. The clock reads sometime after 8, Harrison has more likely left by now and a slight disappointment settles over you, you wanted to see the labs, maybe he will want to take you tomorrow. The bathroom is spacious, glass doors decorating the shower as a black marble vanity rest on the wall, its too big for one person, it feels too luxurious for a guest room. Your mind reminds you of a forgotten fact, Harrison was never a showoff kind of person, he liked his house to feel welcoming and cozy, completely opposite to this place.

Walking out of the room is impossible not to notice the eerie silence that accompanies you, all the lights are off but the sun seems to illuminate the whole place through the skylight. A feeling of anxiety settles in your stomach as your eyes scan the expanse of the room, a corridor shielding doors you haven’t explored yet calls to you, maybe it would be best to wait for him to come back and show you around. You look around once again, scanning the walls and every available surface, your brows furrowing once a detail settles into you that you hadn’t taken into account the previous day; there is not even a single photo of Tess or himself anywhere. Maybe he has them in his room, or perhaps in his office, you think, the anxiety of walking into his space long forgotten, replaced with curiosity.

With fast steps you make it to the first door, its unlocked. The wood doesn’t creak when you open it and you wish it had, any sound would be better than this silence. Peaking your head inside, rows of shelfs of books welcome you, a dark desk sits in the middle, random papers and pieces discarded around it, nothing you would be able to recognize. A leather chair sits behind it and for a moment you wonder what could he need it for? Scanning the surface for any photos, any memories of Tess you could find but is empty, not even a photo of her in any of the walls.

Moving along you walk to the last room, the one on the end of the hall; opening the door, the room is dark, no light peaking into it, the bedsheets are a dark grey, almost black, nothing is out of order, a smell that could only be described as a freshly shaved man and clean clothes hits you, its pleasant, fresh. There is once again no photos to be seen, you should turn around, walk back and continue with your day but curiosity gets the best of you; the walking closet is big, rows of clothes hanging, color coordinated and perfectly ironed. A mirror from floor to ceiling adorning the wall in front of you. Walking closer to his clothes you grab the sleeve of one of his expensive white shirts, wanting to feel the softness of it, you don’t recall ever seeing him wearing one. Out of impulse you bring it to your nose, clothing your eyes as the smell of his cologne hits you, causing a blush to rise up your cheeks; he probable sprays it on himself here, impregnating everything around him.

Abandoning his room you walk into the kitchen, there is so many things about him you wish you knew, things that have probably changed and things that you don’t remember. He seems so distant, so cold, so unavailable to you, it made you wonder why he had allowed you to stay with him, perhaps it was not you, it was your attachment, the last piece of her memory he had, you were like an heirloom, one he refused to throw away, and that realization made you sad.

He didn’t seem happy, he seemed lonely, used to being by himself, making you question if he had any friends, if there was anyone caring for him. The man you remembered was always accompanied, always surrounded by people, always kind, always loving; where had that man disappear? You wondered, remembering how he hadn’t even known who you were once he picked up the phone that night, but what could you expected? You had never reached out, staying like a ghost, gone and hidden from his life.

Sighting you shake your head, forcing these thoughts to abandon you, having had enough of their torment for a day, there are things after all to be do today. Her face attacks your memory, you remember her from the times Tess and Harrison had brought her over, Christina is her name, she was close to Harrison and she had been very close to Tess, urging the obligation of a visit in you the moment you had decided to visit Central City, certain guilt at staying so out of touch to both of them fills you.

Perhaps you should have called her office before hand, you think, she is a busy woman after all, but after a few name drops from her past her assistant informs you that she will see you shortly. The door opens to the conference room she asked you to wait at, her face haven’t changed, a few wrinkles here and there, but the same determine eyes started back at you.

“Y/n” she says your name, surprise lace in her voice, she seems excited to see you. She hugs you, before commenting how much you have changed since she last saw you approximately fifteen years ago.

“I am so glad you could see me, I’m so sorry I never reached out, is just after the death of Tess so many things changed.” You begin, feeling the sting of tears coming to her at the emotion of relieving those memories, at being so close to someone that knew her.

“I’m surprise Harrison didn’t mention that I was visiting, I assumed you both were close friends.” You say nonchalantly, catching in the way her face contract, she seems uncomfortable at the mention of his name.

“Well yes we were.” She says, taking in a breath before continuing.

“You see, after the accident Harrison and I fell out of touch.” She says, seemingly leaving it at that, but curiosity is a powerful feeling, pulling its strings inside of you, forcing you to ask.

“Oh, but don’t you both keep any contact at all?” The question seems innocent, you genuinely want to know. She understands that, concern for you raising in her as she decides to open up more to you.

“I’ll be honest with you y/n, after the accident Harrison changed so much, that loving, caring man disappeared, he became cold, calculating, manipulative. I understand how grieve can change a person, but he, is like he is not even the same person anymore.” She tells you and you get the feeling she is not speaking in a metaphorical way.

You decide to confide her in your worries of him, in your confusion when he didn’t know who you were, when he didn’t even recognize your name. You can see the concern raising in her eyes, at you being alone with a man neither of you know any longer, but you assure her is fine, you will be fine, how bad could he be? He wouldn’t hurt you, this was Harrison you both are talking about, even if neither of you believe it completely.

@twilightlover2007

@austarus

@harrisonwellsisdaddy

@wintersire

@reallystressedhoneybee

@fanfiction-and-fantasies

@saltykidcreation

@dumpeetintofyre

@yetanotherwells

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kkysolo · 4 years ago

Note

*grovels again* *hopes you have your gin*

i can’t believe i’m posting this highly specific piece that will certainly flop due to its clear self indulgence. please don’t send me to tumblr jail, i already know i need therapy for this lmao. your grovelling paid off, petal. i hope it’s something you marginally enjoy.

[edit: this is now a series. part two / part three / part four ]

A/N: this...is a friends to lovers smut piece laced heavily with daddy-kink that is not at all related to my own upbringing and exposes my clear daddy issues. as always, our reader has no defining traits, other than that she is female.

Pairing: Modern Ben Solo/Reader Word count: 1392 Warnings: daddy kink, age gap (three/fourish-ish years?) PIV sex, unprotected sex. Heavy mentions of childhood and referring to reader as ‘little girl’ (I know that’s a squick for some of you). Mentions of feelings that have travelled from childhood to adulthood (not sure if that’s a squick but there you have it). tagged as tw: and cw: daddy kink for anyone’s filtering desires, but it’s below a cut, anyway.

“H-how l-long?”

Your words trailed off into a moan as Ben curled his fingers, dragging the calloused pads of them along your sensitive walls. He shifted slightly, moving to circle your clit with his thumb, rubbing tight circles into the bundle of nerves. A tight coil began to wind and wind and wind in your core, and you chased it with abandon, hips bucking into his hands in a deplorable show of desperation.

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, but first, I want to watch you come for me, right here, on your best friend’s fingers.”

Your eyes fell shut as your head tipped back against the pillows, and Ben reached with his free hand to steer your face toward his.

“Open your eyes,” he murmured. “I want you to see who’s doing this to you. I want to watch every last second of you coming apart.”

You did as you were told, your eyes flying open, your clouded, hooded gaze meeting his.

“Good,” he murmured, increasing his pressure on your clit. “That’s my girl.”

And it was his praise that did it - because it always did, always left you feeling like a wanton mess, even as he’d say it in passing, clueless to its effect. The coil snapped and you choked on your own breath as you felt it, felt yourself gushing onto his fingers, and felt yourself begin to float, landing somewhere between euphoria and heaven itself.

He watched, so absorbed in your bliss, so captivated by how you completely and utterly pulverised in his hands. He couldn’t find the words, couldn’t even begin to thank you for allowing him such a privilege, to be the one obliged with the chance to take you apart, to wreck you. His eyes never left the plains of your face, even as you began to fall back into coherence. You fought to catch your breath, bringing your attention back to him.

“How long?” You asked again, and Ben wasn’t even minutely surprised at your persistence. He withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his mouth - because he had to, had to taste you, had to know what he’d been missing all those years. He hummed as his tongue slid across your come.

“Always,” he murmured once he’d sated his hunger. “For as long as I can remember.”

His lips found your hairline, pressing softly into the skin there.

“Me too,” you revelled in it, in the tranquility of it, the softness of it. But there was something else, the moment that sparked it, the moment that had spurred you to reach right into the depths of your desires, to dig up the feelings you’d thought you’d long since buried.

“Ben?”

“Hm?”

His lips cascaded down your jaw, your neck, teeth grazing across your collar bones.

“At dinner, I said something,” your words quickly caused Ben’s ministrations to cease, his lips stationary on the column of your throat. “And it...it made you...It’s why, it’s why I wanted to kiss you.”

Your mind settled on the moment, the recent memory - how you’d tried in vain to get away with shoving your potatoes to the side of your plate, moving them around with your fork in a feeble attempt at making them look eaten. You should have known, though, that a visit home to your mother’s house would make such a task impossible. And not because of your parents, no. No, because your ever-present childhood neighbour would make sure you ate your food.

You recall how he’d looked at you, the stern gaze, the cocked brow.

“Eat them,” he’d warned.

“Sure thing, dad,” you’d chided, half playfully.

You recall his face, his frame, how his whole body tensed, how his knee came to bang against the underside of the table without warning, sending your cutlery clattering from your plate.

Ben exhaled roughly, the palms of his hands gripping your sides anxiously.

“That word-”

“Don’t, don’t say it, I won’t be able to control myself if you do.”

“What if I don’t want you to?”

“Princess,” his tone was stern, a warning.

“I saw what it did to you, when I said it, when I called you ‘dad’.”

He inhaled sharply, quickly moving above you. He was so huge, so broad, that his body completely caged you. He hovered there for a moment, trying to steady his breathing, trying to collect himself. He grabbed your wrists, pinning them to the pillow above your head.

“I’m warning you. I won’t be able to control myself,” he let out a shaky, bated breath. “Not if I hear you call me that.”

“I don’t want you to control yourself, I want you,” you breathed, completely entranced by the idea of Ben finally fucking you, of your best friend finally being inside of you. “Daddy.”

And the silence that followed your words, the complete stillness as you watched him - it engulfed you. You watched as his composure crumbled, the cracks in his brick walls creeping up up up until the expanse of his very soul imploded right before your eyes. Ben’s head dropped as he groaned loudly, hips rutting into yours. In one swift movement, he was opening your legs, hiking them up around his waist. He looked at you then, and you knew how far gone he was. His eyes were so blown black you could no longer see the molten honey of his irises. And they were wild, too, just like his breathing, which was just a hair away from hyperventilation. His gaze persists and you knew, then, that this was his hopeless attempt at a question, at asking permission. You nodded, perhaps too eagerly, but God, you’d never wanted anything so much. He slid in to you, stretching you further than you thought possible, his forehead dropping to yours as a guttural moan ripped from his chest. You keened for him, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood as he sheathed himself fully inside of you. He trembled as he held his position, allowing you to become accustomed to his girth. The heat of you, the feeling of being so thoroughly connected to you, had him so on edge he could barely contain himself. You nodded at him, then, allowing him to move at last. He let out the breath he’d been holding, pulling out and then pushing back into you as you gasped, writhed, and moaned beneath him. The sight alone had him almost growling, a feral creature replacing his typically calm facade. He’d been picturing this moment, this very second, every day for so many years now, he’d lost count. Somehow, it managed to exceed every last one of his expectations. The feel of you, the sight of you - it was completely and utterly indescribable.

“Aren’t I?” He grabbed your face, pounding into you at a force like nothing you’ve ever felt before. “Isn’t that what I’ve always been?”

His breath heaved as he spoke through gritted teeth, trying to keep any semblance of control that he still had left.

“When I taught you how to ride a bike, when I walked you home from school, when I carried you to bed when you fell asleep curled around me on the couch?” He thrust into you so hard, then, that you swore you felt him in your throat. Your breath was coming in quick and heavy pants, your eyes were welling up with the sheer pleasure, the sheer realisation of what was happening.

“Huh? Isn’t that what I was every time I held you when you cried over some other dick, isn’t that what I was every time I fucked my fist raw to the thought of you, isn’t that what I was when I fell in love with you over and over, so many fucking times, I couldn’t stand it?” He growled as his hips continued to piston in and out, so forcefully, so hard, so perfectly. You cried out, eliciting a moan from him.

“You’ve always been my little girl,” he murmured, his forehead falling forward to meet yours, still clutching your face. “It’s always been you, only ever been you,” his eyes fluttered shut for a moment as he relished in the feel of you, how you fluttered around him every time he praised you. “And now Daddy finally gets to fuck his little girl, perfect little girl.”

#i've got the fear despite the gin #i'm so sorry for this #exposing all my issues in one post #my writing #ben solo #ben solo x reader #tw: daddy kink #cw: daddy kink #anon

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oasis-hunter · 4 years ago

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This one took me a bit! I’m not the most well versed in regards to Azul or Riddle, but I tried my best to properly represent how I think they would handle the situation (the same can be said for Rook, but I’m a bit more familiar with him).

These ended up being a bit more like scenarios with bullet points, but hopefully they will suffice!

Edit 7/28: Had to repost cuz tumblr didn’t want it in the tags..

-- Mod Spitz

▷ Yandere Azul, Rook, and Riddle w/ a Darling that avoids them out of fear

▷ Content Warning: Obsessive behavior, Stalking, Intentions of Abuse(?)

------

▷▷ Azul Ashengrotto

Azul was not initially interested in Darling. In fact they were rather uninteresting to him. No magic, no exceptional skills, no athletic prowess. Certainly not the type of person who would cross his mind more than once. Yet somehow they managed to slowly draw him in.

Maybe it was the way they looked at him with such disdain upon their first encounter. They saw him as nothing more than a spineless con man, getting by in life through cheap tricks.

It certainly made the taste of victory that much sweeter as he watched the realization of their hopelessness spread further across their face with each failed attempt at besting him.

And it made him all the more ravenous in his desire to see more. He wanted to toy with them. Have them rely on him for a feeling of confidence and security only to have it torn down once more. Break their spirits over and over.

However, his toy gave him little thought following his overblotting. Why would they want to return to the Mostro Lounge, especially to see him?

He needed to draw them in once more, but his busy schedule allowed little time for chase. Fortunately for him, Jade and Floyd were eager to assist.

It was rather obvious to Darling they were being watched. It was hard not to notice the two large eels in their peripheral, especially after they had so many unpleasant encounters with the two mere weeks prior.

It seemed with every minor inconvenience one of them slid to their side, inquiring in an eerily casual way only to lead to suggesting Azul’s assistance in the matter. Darling rejected them at every turn, but their persistence was unyielding.

Sometimes they would take further measures that forced Darling’s hand. Late into the night they would have to cautiously enter the lounge in order to retrieve Grim, who had been bribed into staying with the promise of complimentary snacks. Like clockwork, Azul would corner them.

Darling would fidget nervously, desperately trying to pull Grim out as quickly as possible. Azul attempted light conversation, his sultry voice sending a chill through their spine as he feigned surprise at their arrival.

Their responses would be short -- if they even responded at all. This was irritating, but it was nothing too concerning. A measure of respect for his power was needed to instill a reliance after all. Why would they come seeking aid if they didn’t think he could give them something significant in return?

As they hastily retreated, he let out a sigh, slightly disappointed but satisfied. While they had left him once more, the initial barrier of getting them to return again was overcome. Now the true pursuit could begin.

▷▷ Rook Hunt

Rook had never had the pleasure of being formally introduced to Darling, and for any other typical human, he would not have felt any reason to pursue them. However, after discovering the unique conditions of their arrival, how could he stay away?

A mysterious individual brought to the school with no recollection of themself or their origin. Perhaps they weren’t even from this world. How mystifying! How intriguing!

Rook longed to analyze them, but from afar there was nothing to be seen. They blended in with the crowds so easily, the cat-like monster perched on their shoulder being the only part that made them stand out.

If Rook were more naive -- more careless -- he would have dismissed them, but his hunter’s blood boiled hot in his veins. He knew there was something more. Something deeper.

Had Darling been his prey, he would simply capture them and inspect them thoroughly by hand, inside and out. Truly the temptation burned in the back of his mind as he took every free opportunity to shadow them from afar.

Yes, he had become rather obsessed. More so than with any other creature he had pursued, but how could he not? Never before had someone like this existed, and that in itself was the truest embodiment of beauty.

It was not Darling who first realized they were being followed. It was Jack subtly warning them of the continued pursuit that had made them fully aware of the piercing eyes that had tracked them from every angle.

They had heard of Rook in fleeting conversations, and each victim of his interest had the same horror story to tell. From what they could gather, his observations were harmless, but the chill of anxiety they felt under his eyes told them a different tale.

They threw a glance over their shoulder, feeling his ever present gaze immediately falling upon them as they left the classroom. Their eyes locked for the first time, and a wide smile stretched across his face, Rook disappearing into the mass of students filing into the hallway. With the warmth sapped from their body, Darling realized at that moment they were most definitely not safe. But what fun was the chase if there was no fear mixed in?

▷▷ Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle was no stranger to being dodged. Aside from a handful of friends, his presence was often met with fear. Students fled at the possibility of losing their head for any misstep. While he had improved, he still needed to maintain some semblance of order lest his dorm fall into chaos.

Darling was no exception. As he entered the dorm’s common area, he saw them, sitting with Ace and Deuce, chatting away merrily. With one glance he could note every flaw in their posture, their tone, their grammar...Everything was in need of adjustment, and it festered inside of him like a desperate itch he couldn’t scratch.

It was Ace’s face slightly faltering that caused them to look his way. Seeing their eyes widen with worry and their smile wither away was always painful. They had such a lovely smile. Riddle couldn’t help but frown bitterly, which surely didn’t help him appear any more welcoming.

He resented how unpleasant he had become to them. His first impression wasn’t ideal, and it seemed even in his improved state there was tension.

Riddle simply wanted to help them. Oh, how he longed to help them. Fix them and turn them into the perfect being. One that followed every rule with flawless execution and could serve as the partner to his queenship. He had imagined it everyday, and with each averted glance and snuffed bout of laughter, he felt his heart chip away.

By instinct the words fell from his mouth. “Sit properly!” “The study period is for studying, NOT socializing!” “Properly enunciate! How do you expect me to hear you if you’re mumbling!” He felt so cruel, but the desire to correct was overwhelming. Increasingly so with them.

He could not overcome the irritation that gnawed at him incessantly as he witnessed what he believed could be the perfect companion conduct themself so poorly, and with each criticism, he could feel them further slipping from his grasp.

Riddle had to realize that if he truly wished to have his Darling, he would need to find a gentler means of easing them into his world. Only when they trusted him -- felt safe around him -- could he begin to mold them into his ideal. It just took a pinch more patience.

#answered #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere x reader #azul #rook #riddle #mod spitz #headcanons

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monstersandmaw · 5 years ago

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Mute male siren x female reader (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This is a tier reward for a lovely patron who wanted a siren who's never been able to use his voice, and is thus treated poorly by his own kind for being 'useless' in their eyes. Hope you enjoy!

It’s been up on my Patreon for a while now, so if you want to have access to stories before they go up on Tumblr, plus a number of exclusive rewards, access to our Discord server, polls, artwork, character concepts, etc. then head on over and check it out!

___

It was the eerie melody - almost more of a feeling in your chest than a sound in your ears - that drew you out onto the jetty from the beach where you’d been walking barefoot, flip-flops dangling from the fingers of one hand. You knew about the shoal of sirens who lived and hunted off the reef that guarded Starfall Bay, but you’d never seen them; they didn’t come too close to shore very often after all, preferring the vast open waters of the channel beyond.

Something about their song that afternoon seemed harsh, cruel, despite the plainchant beauty of it and a tear spilled from your eye before you’d even noticed it forming. The song faded as the sirens clearly dived back down again, and it left you strangely hollow. Humans were far from immune to the hunting calls and songs of those hauntingly strange creatures, and in the silent wake of their absence, you found yourself humming softly. The tune was a cheerful one as you tried to rally your spirits a little.

Squinting against the reflections of the strong summer sun against the rippling water, you clambered down to sit on the edge of the dock so that you could dangle your feet in the cool, clear water. A little crab scuttled around in the rocks beneath the jetty’s pilings, minding its own business, and you watched him for a bit. As the hairs on your arms prickled suddenly, you looked up and found that you were not alone.

Lying half slumped over a nearby rock which had been smoothed by the constant caress of the sea was a creature that was unmistakably a siren. You frowned, wondering what they could be doing just metres from the shoreline, and half-hauled out of the water. Something about their size and shape suggested that they were male, and you stared openly at the stunning colours of his tail and upper body. The thick muscle was covered with inky blue scales which were in turn dotted here and there with pearlescent scales. It brought to mind the clearest of night skies. The fan of his tail was feathered and spread out in the water behind him, while his upper body was smooth and free of scales. His skin there, however, was a dark blue-grey, and he had little fins of iridescent blue at his elbows. Plastered to his head and hanging halfway down his back, his hair was black as an oil slick, and he stared at you with huge, dolorous, sapphire eyes, blinking slowly.

“Hi,” you called, waving. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a siren up here before. Do you come here a lot?”

He waved back, somewhat hesitantly, and then gestured with a clawed hand at his throat, opening his mouth silently.

“Oh,” you said. “You don’t speak…? Is that right?”

In answer, he gave a slow, sad nod, those bright, completely blue eyes turning down to stare at a spot of vivid green seaweed on the rock.

Something about his dejected posture made you keep talking, so you asked, “Do you know Sign?”

His head jerked back up at that and he tilted it curiously to one side in a silent question.

“You know, Sign Language?” you asked. “It’s what people who can’t hear or talk - or sometimes both - use to communicate. They use their hands.”

The siren froze but his lips parted in soft astonishment, eyes wide with wonder. He clearly hadn’t known that there were other ways of expressing himself, and your heart twisted at the anguish in his storm-blue eyes.

“My friend teaches it,” you went on, thinking on your feet. “I don’t know it myself, but if you’d like to learn, I’m sure I can ask him for you.”

He nodded emphatically but then went still again.

“What? What’s wrong?”

He made an empty kind of cough, mouth opening in an unvoiced hiss of frustration - more of a choke, really - flashing razor sharp teeth. Then he looked back at you and rubbed his thumb against his fingertips in the gesture that said ‘money’ almost the world over. He’d clearly been around landfolk often enough to have picked that one up.

Waggling your legs slowly through the water as you thought, you pouted and then said, “I can ask if he’d be willing to help out anyway… He’s the kind of guy that would do that.”

The hope that kindled in those sad eyes nearly tore your chest in two.

“I’ll ask him right now. Hang on.”

One quick text later and Jera was agreeing to come down to the beach in ten minutes to meet the siren. The bright green of the lizardfolk’s tail seemed to fascinate your siren, and the two of them seemed to hit it off almost immediately. You couldn’t help but notice the way he flinched away though whenever either of you made a sudden gesture or raised your voices - even to laugh - and as you and Jera made your way back up the beach after promising to return the next morning, your friend voiced his concerns.

“For a siren to have no voice…” he muttered darkly. “He must be the lowest of the low… he…”

“He seems to desperate to communicate,” you commented.

Jera shook his head and made a soft growl like an alligator. “It’s more than that. They use their voices for everything: hunting, mating, socialising… Without that, he… he has no role, no function.”

Your heart ached for him and you said, “You mind if I sit in on the lessons too? That way he’s got me to talk to as well…”

“I kind of assumed you’d want that anyway,” Jera grinned. “We’ll start tomorrow.”

Over the next three weeks, you and Jera spent hours down at the shore with the siren. He was literate as it turned out, and at the start of your first lesson he wrote his name with a talon in the hard, wet sand.

“Ilta,” Jera repeated, looking up at him. “That means ‘evening’,” he added, and both of you eyed the starry night sky of Ilta’s tail.

“Appropriate,” you grinned and Ilta blushed darker. His face was so sharply defined, his features so intense and clearly belonging to a predator, that to see him turn a little softer sent a thrill through you.

When he saw the way you smiled, he signed, “Thank you,” with a hesitant and bashful hand.

One morning perhaps a month into your daily lessons, as you hurried through the town, with your heart fluttering and your chest light with excitement to see him again, your phone buzzed and you paused at the harbour to read the text.

Jera: Hey, I can’t make it today - something’s come up and they need me to cover for another member of staff at school. Sorry! x

You replied that it was fine, and that you and Ilta could practise together anyway. However, he wasn’t there when you got to your usual meeting spot in the cove, and a stab of worry hit you like a hammer blow. Eventually, after thirty long minutes of pacing the sand and staring at the water, the surface of the sea rippled in a rush of bubbles, and you saw Ilta’s dark tail propelling him towards you.

“Hey,” you called, waving to him, but when you saw how dejected he looked, how broken down, you knelt in the water, heedless of the splashing waves, and held out your arms to him. “Come here,” you murmured.

He lay in your lap, his chest heaving silently, and he flung his lean, muscular arms around your waist. Stroking his wet hair seemed to calm him and after a moment you felt him shiver. “Ilta, what happened?” you asked softly, but he only tightened his grip on you and buried his face from sight. “Ok, it’s ok,” you crooned. “I’m here.”

After a while, you recalled something that Jera had said about song being so important to the everyday life of a siren, and you began to hum quietly. It was the tune you’d sung on the day you’d first met him; a variation of a folk melody that had always cheered you up when your grandmother had sung it to you. Within seconds, his body went limp beneath your touch and he let his hands fall to the sand on either side of your thighs. He listened to you sing it through twice before he took a deep, shuddering breath, and then pushed himself upright.

His strange gaze met yours and he reached a lethally-clawed hand for your throat, his fingertips just brushing against your skin as you continued to sing. The urge to stop was overwhelming, but something made you keep humming. He blinked slowly, dark lips slightly parted, and he continued to touch you. Eventually he withdrew his hand and signed an embarrassed, “Thank you… I’m sorry.”

“What happened?” you asked, using your hands instead of your voice now.

He shuffled slightly, splashing you as he got comfortable enough that he could sit half-coiled up on himself, balanced and able to use both hands to speak. “Sorry,” he grinned as you wiped the droplets off your face with a quiet laugh. “I… I had a bad day with my shoal.”

“What do you mean?”

He rolled his eyes in frustration, though it wasn’t directed at you. “They use their voices on me,” he admitted.

“I don’t understand…” you said gently, movements of your hands small, quiet, faltering.

He turned his gaze back to meet yours and said, “You know how we hunt, right? We lure our prey in and then we use our voices to stun them. The sounds are…” he paused, frowning, searching for a way to explain it to you. “You know how some whales hunt by blasting sound at fish, making the air inside them expand or leaving them twitching and immobile…”

Horror slid into your stomach and you stared at him. “They did that to you?”

Ilta nodded. “They’ve always done it,” he went on. “But since I’ve been coming here and learning to talk another way, they’ve been doing it more and more. I… I can’t defend myself from that.”

“Can you leave?” you blurted aloud.

He shrugged. “Probably, but only if I stayed in and around the harbour. I learned to hunt in the shallows the way other merfolk do, with a spear of sharpened shell, but they think that’s hilarious of course.”

You made a disgusted noise in the back of your throat and he smiled broadly.

“What?”

“I love the noises you make,” he said. “Sometimes it’s just really cute and other times it’s beautiful. You have a lovely voice you know?”

You snorted softly, flushing. “You should have heard my grandmother. She was a real singer.”

“What’s a real singer?” he asked.

“You know, someone who sings for audiences… People pay to come and hear her…”

“Oh,” he said. “You sang for me though,” he added, his movements suddenly shrinking down to barely-there twitches of his hands. He’d picked it up much more quickly than you had, and you almost missed what he said.

“I couldn’t think of any other way to make you feel better,” you said shyly. “Did it work?”

“Yeah.” It was obvious that there was more to it though, but he didn’t go on immediately.

“Did… Did I do something wrong?” you asked, trying to catch his eye but he was too busy looking at a patch of bare sand just beside you.

He shook his head.

“Then what is it…?”

He swallowed and looked up at you at last. “It’s something a mate might do,” he said with trembling fingers. “No one has ever done anything like that for me before. I thought they never would… you know… because of…” he finished by gesturing weakly at his voiceless throat.

Feeling brave, you reached for his face and traced your thumb across his cheekbone. “Ilta,” you said and he brought his hand up to your throat again before dropping it so that he could speak.

“I love your voice,” he said. “I wish I could sing for you. I wish… I…” His hands fell limply into the water beside his tail and he sighed. Slowly he brought the fingers of his right hand up to his own throat, claws digging into the muscle of his neck. For a horrible moment you thought he might hurt himself, but he relaxed a second later and opened his mouth. As he exhaled, gills flaring briefly in his neck, he let out a wet choking sound. It was just air in his throat, with no vocalisation at all. “I can’t,” he signed. “I’ve never been able to…”

You took his hands in yours briefly once he’d stopped talking and kissed his knuckles gently. “I know it’s… it’s been awful for you,” you said as you continued to kiss his cold skin, “But… I think that not having a voice has made you partly who you are. I’m not saying I wouldn’t love you if you could sing, but… I love who you are, Ilta. I love spending time with you and listening to your stories about what it’s like underwater… I would never have known any of that if I hadn’t met you.”

Ilta listened to your words and stared at you, stunned, barely breathing. Eventually he slid his hands free of yours and asked, “You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” you reassured him.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked immediately, and when you nodded, he grinned again.

He knocked you back into the sand, pressing his whole body against yours, and it was as if his touch became his song. Silently, he sculpted his feelings for you against your skin, running his hands up your legs, his gills working as he became more and more aroused by the feel of you. He lifted your top and raked his teeth over your warm skin, making you gasp and cry out. The cove was mercifully pretty empty, with only a few people about, but they were a long way off.

His fluke flailed in the surf as he dragged himself up towards your shoulders, his body still pressed along yours. His long hair fell to one side and you looked up into his eyes. “You were going to kiss me,” you grinned.

Ilta’s answering smile was sharp and wicked but full of fondness, and he kissed you hard enough that you let out a low moan. One of his cold hands wrapped lightly around your throat as you continued to mewl and groan under his touch, and you knew that his touch was his answering song for you. Together, the two of you made a song of your own. When you said as much, he tipped his head back, almost in victory, and rutted up against your thigh, his scales suddenly slick where they touched you.

Ilta continued to touch you with reverence and wonder until you could no longer stop the sounds from falling from you. He took every single one of them and returned them with his body until the two of you were gasping together, sharing a breath as he spilled his release across your thighs, his forehead pressed to your collarbones and his fingers tangled in your hair.

With one final, soft, decadent moan, you kissed the top of his head and he signed something vague that might have been ‘thank you’ but you weren’t quite sure. To be fair though, you weren’t in a much better position to be articulating anything either.

—

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

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#merman #siren #exophilia #monster boyfriend #merman boyfriend #siren boyfriend #sign language #mute character #patreon reward #commission

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makeyourdeanabi · 4 years ago

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Finale Reaction- 2 months later

In the wee hours after the Supernatural Finale, after tossing and turning in my bed, I got up and wrote this... this was before I was actually active on Tumblr and I never thought I would share this because I was too self conscious. I deleted it shortly after I wrote it because it brought me so much pain to relive it. I have since watched the Finale again and have come to terms with it and I felt it was a good time to share my thoughts. I hope that my words may bring other people comfort who feel the same way. Thanks for reading :)

Alisha

P.S. Sorry so long, I was feeling things and the words just kept coming and coming ___________________________________________

I don’t blog. Never in my life have I sat down to tell the world about my feelings in such a manner. I may contribute on message boards and social media comments, but I never thought anything was worth my time to spill my guts into the ether when I am near certain that not a soul will read them. But here I am. I have to write because if I don’t get these thoughts out of my head, I am going to go full on insane.

That ending was bad. It was a disservice to the 15 years of an incredible show that was not only genre bending it was cultural norms bending.

I could mention the various tropes that this ending (and the previous episodes) invoked, but I am not well versed in them and would never want to do anyone a disservice with a comparison that wasn’t apt.

The buildup up of each character arc and then the glaring lack of conclusion for said character arc was laughable.

To say I am disappointed is an understatement.

To say I am heartbroken is an understatement.

I am destroyed.

I am destroyed that the two men who have been with this franchise since day 1 wrote and directed an episode that they thought was the perfect ending. They thought this is what their devoted fandom wanted.

I am destroyed that the lead actors signed off on this script and went so far as to call it their favorite. I realize Jared was the only one calling it his favorite episode. Jensen admitted he had reservations about the episode and needed the wise words of creator Erik Kripke to accept it. I do have to say that taking the word of a man who left the show 10 seasons ago and hasn’t been involved in all the plot lines and inner workings since season 5 is probably not the best idea. I could be mistaken about the extent of Kripke’s involvement, but I am fairly certain that I am right in my assumptions.

Dean spent 15 years (probably more) of his life feeling unloved, unworthy, self-conscious and convinced that his life had but one purpose and that purpose would ultimately be the death of him, and he had made peace with that.

He is given a best friend, potential love interest, who helps him to see that he is more than that, so much more than that. He is selfless, he is caring, he is a lover, not a killer. His friend’s soulmate’s sacrifice is the catalyst for him believing that all these things are true. He even takes the step of admitting out loud that he knows he has changed. He knows that his life is worth living to the fullest and appreciating what he has every day and honoring those they have “lost along the way.”

To then kill him during a routine hunting trip in which the boys are up against a vampire nest they could take down in their sleep. What could possibly have been the purpose for that? To show that once they were no longer God’s little play toys their lives were expendable? WHY?

Dean, arguably the greatest hunter in the SPN universe, was taken out by a fucking rusty piece of rebar, and instead of trying to call for help and get the man to a hospital (not sure it would have helped) he has his final monologue, the one he has been due for the latter half all of Season 15. He died scared, in pain, and sad.

Dean goes to heaven, and its not the heaven we have been told of in the past where you are living in your memories. Its truly life after death and its wonderful. He meets Bobby again and told that various people in Dean’s and Bobby’s life are close by. His parents live down the road. His father, who was never confirmed to be but was most likely an abusive bastard, lives just down the road with his mother. Wonderful. (WTF?) He gets confirmation that Cas is out of the empty and he smiles, nothing more. He sees baby and goes for a drive, not to find Cas and thank him for his ultimate sacrifice, but to just drive. I like this part because we see a happy, content Dean, and we finally get to hear Kansas’s “Carry on Wayward Son” (DONT GET ME STARTED ON THE LACK OF THE ROAD SO FAR AT THE BEGINNING OF THE EPISODE). I just wish Dean’s path to heaven had been a little easier on him.

Dean deserved better.

Castiel, the selfless angel who just wanted to find purpose in his life and ultimately found it in death. He dies never being told that he is loved, after countless times of professing his love to his found family. The angel who sacrificed himself to the Empty, a horrible place of unspeakable torture, to protect the man he loves. A man who, mere days later (in my mind anyway), arrives in heaven after being killed in a gruesome accident, rather than fulfilling his destiny that Cas fought so hard to protect. Some sacrifice. It turns out that Cas is saved by the Empty from Jack, but we don’t get to see his joyful reunion with Dean, the man he loves.

Cas deserved better.

Sam is left to live this life without his brother, and potentially the love of his life because the writers couldn’t be bothered to confirm Eileen’s re-existence after Chuck’s rapture. He has a family, and he grows old (mind you with REALLY bad makeup in a show that is known for their incredible makeup/special effects departments).

He seems to be happy, but you can tell something is missing. We come to see that he raised his son to be a hunter. He raised his son in a life that, at the outset of this show, he was desperate to get out of and live a normal life. Perhaps he no longer believes that anyone can live a normal life knowing what is out there. *EDIT* Looking back I don’t believe he raised his son to be a hunter, just gave him the tattoo in case.

He names his son Dean, because of course he does. He has a wife who we see from a distance and is never given the clarity if it is Eileen or not. He finally dies after what looks like a slow and painful illness and is sent to heaven.

In heaven he meets up with Dean. This was lovely. The two of them meeting again after so long, for Sam, that is. Dean only had to seemingly wait for a few hours.

Sam deserved better.

For a show that had the potential to go out on a historically significant high, this is disappointing, to say the least. The story had the potential to end with 2 brothers who have sacrificed so much and saved so many people, find a happy ending. Not only that but find a happy ending with a deaf partner and a gay angel. If that isn’t breaking barriers and bending norms, I don’t know what is. I really would like to know what prevented this from happening. Be it the CW from restricting them or maybe the absolute lack of originality from the writers, I am curious as to their reasoning. Maybe it was COVID. Maybe because they couldn’t have those two actors physically on set due to protocols, they didn’t want to shortchange them by having them appear otherwise: disembodied voice, phone call (DONT TOUCH ME) or even a flashback… hell STOCK FOOTAGE! I don’t know and I clearly can’t imagine the reason.

I realize that there is nothing that can be done about this episode now and that accepting it and moving on is really the only way forward. But the legacy this show has left, and its lasting impact on me and my life, cannot be ignored. I was looking forward to indulging in past episodes of this show for the rest of my life. It is going to be a long time before I can watch an episode without anger and resentment towards what I know to be their eventual end. That, to me, is unforgiveable.

I don’t expect anyone to actually read this because I do not have any followers. I have never blogged in my entire life and was only recently introduced to the online fandom, but I needed to write this. I needed to share the impact that this episode had on me. I do hope that it does reach those in the fandom that may have similar feelings and are able to use my words to help express how they are feeling. We can move on, and we will move on, but we need to do it together.

I know that there are people who, if they read this, would shake their head in disbelief that I became so emotionally invested in this show that watching a bad ending would take such a toll on my mental health.

To them I say, imagine this… The Pittsburgh Steelers (my favorite team, they can imagine their own) have an incredible season. A season where they saw a myriad of highs and lows. Veteran players making incredible comebacks, rookie players coming in to their own. Season ending injuries that lead to the next man stepping up and contributing in ways they weren’t sure possible. Now imagine they make it to the Superbowl and after 3 tough quarters, in which they played their best, getting better with each quarter, they lose it in the final minutes. All that blood, sweat, and tears for nothing. Now imagine that was their last season and the Pittsburgh Steelers are no longer an NFL team. They are done. No “we’ll get ‘em next season.” No “it’s just a game and there is always another one”. Just done. Their entire franchise, for a brief moment in time, reduced to those final minutes where they failed to win. Devastating. Of course, in the long run that is not what they will be remembered for. I mean, after all, they have won 6 Lombardi trophies, and no one is taking that away from them. But the sting will remain for a while. *EDIT* This was as close to prophecy as I will ever get, the Steelers did all of the above until the playoffs, but THANK GOD, there will be another season.

If I can’t make you understand with a sports metaphor than I will never make you understand.

I love this show and this loss is devastating. I do hope that it is remembered for more than their last-minute loss. I hope it is remembered for the joy and acceptance that their fandom felt with each episode, for the laugher on set and the gag reels. I hope it is remembered for the individual players who gave it their all. I know it will be, but for me personally, this sting is going to last for a while.

#Supernatural #spn #dean winchester #castiel #sam winchester #eileen leahy #series finale #season 15 episode 20 #damn you dabb #damn you singer #destiel #supernatural

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tiktrauma · 5 years ago

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Choked Up (Murdoc/Reader)

Summary: What started out as a heartache has grown into something a bit more problematic.

Notes: Single draft story with no editing, so it won’t be going on Ao3. Consider it a tumblr exclusive. Contains angst and the fictional Hanahaki Disease. Also angst. A lot of angst.

This is all his fault!

You paced around your room, your belongings having been pushed aside for this very reason, a hand clutching at your aching throat. Your scowl was trained on the floor boards, but your mind was elsewhere. Part of it focused on the pain blooming in your chest, while another part focused on it’s catalyst.

Murdoc.

Even thinking his name caused a surge of pain to blossom in your throat. You paused briefly, a small coughing fit over coming you, and then you kept going, ignoring the small petals that fluttered to the ground behind you.

This is all his fucking fault! Egotistical son of a bitch, why can’t he just-

You had to stop yourself. Literally pausing mid-step, you had to quell your fervent mind, pushing down your anger. It would only make things worse.

Had you known that earlier, things may not be as bad as they were now. But there was no point in dwelling in the past.

Noodle had said this infection was rooted in your heart - in your very soul. It was feeding off your emotions, your hurt and anger only making it flourish. But even knowing that, it was hard to keep it down. Somehow, it made you feel more emotional, more vulnerable, and that in turn only made it stronger. It was a never ending cycle that wouldn’t stop until it killed you or...

Or…

Another surge, more coughing, more petals. You felt a small lump in your throat. With a bought of unattractive hacking, you managed to expel the foreign body, and a small, deep red rose bud sat on your hand. It was only half bloomed.

You were getting better at coughing them up before they fully bloomed, though it was a skill you weren’t especially proud of developing.

And just like that, you were back to pacing. To thinking. To brooding.

You wanted to hate Murdoc. He was partially responsible for this. With his flirting, his constant attempts to make a move on you, that one time you got drunk enough to make out with him on the couch, and then he just brings home another girl the next day, like you didn’t even exist.

That had been enough to trigger this disease. Not outright rejection, but enough to feed the seed that was planted in your heart long ago by some unknown force of nature.

You wished you had had the guts to open up to someone about this sooner. Noodle had to find out by complete accident when she heard you hacking like a cat with a hairball. Her solution wasn’t one you liked.

Tell him, she had said. It will only go away if he returns your feelings.

It wasn’t reassuring when she said it, and it wasn’t reassuring now. You could tell him, but what then? What if he really did reject you? The only other option was a surgery that, with how far along the disease was, you weren’t sure you’d survive.

The front door open and shut, slamming hard enough to alert you in your room. That could only be Murdoc.

Your heart pounded, sending another throb of pain throughout your torso. You gagged a little, tasting the bitter sweetness of more petals at the back of your tongue.

You spat them out and wiped your mouth dry. If that wasn’t enough to convince you, you didn’t know what would.

You wasted no time, rushing out of your room, fighting down anymore stray flower petals. Murdoc was only half way out of his jacket before you grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into the closest room. No ‘hellos’, no explanation, just a sudden dragging him into what turned out to be a bathroom.

“We need to talk.”

“What-”

“Now!”

You shoved him in, a little more forcefully than you intended, and slammed the door behind you, locking it just to be safe. Murdoc watched, his brow peaking as he watched you lock the door, before a knowing smirk crossed his face.

“Oh, Bird, how very… expected~” There was that flirtatious tone, the one that made you fall so hard for him. And to hear that pet name roll off his tongue in that tone, just like it had all those nights ago. It made your heart pound, your cheeks red, your chest ache.

“Murdoc, we… I need to tell you something!” Your voice was shakey, scratchy even. Hours of coughing superseding this making your throat sore. Even something as trivial as swallowing hurt, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Not yet. “I think I-”

“Shh~” Murdoc was infront of you know, a boney finger pressed to your lips. “You don’t have to say anything, Bird. I can see what’s going on.” Your eyes widened.

“Y… you do?” Hope swelled in your chest.

“Of course.” His finger traced along your jawline until it reached your er, tucking a stray strand of hair behind it. “It’s clear as day. You think I wouldn’t noticed the looks you give me? How you blush every time I call you my little Bird?” He leaned in close. “Or maybe our night of passion~” You flinched remembering that night, and the drawls of pain that had followed the day after. When you saw him with... her.

“That’s... so great to hear!” You lunged forward, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Oh Murdoc, you have no idea what I’ve been through!” At that, Murdoc only chuckled. One hand moved to hold your shoulder, though his grip wasn’t as tight as yours was.

“I have an idea,” He said. “I’ve been in your spot before, worrying myself tired over someone else. It’s fine though, we can make up for lost time.”

Something about his words made you pause.

“Lost- what?” But before you could say anything more, you were cut off by your own throat. Something clogged your breathing passage, something small, hard, and horribly familiar.

You wrenched yourself out of Murdoc’s arms, pushing him away before another fit of coughs over took you, and you doubled over in order to expel the foreign body.

It wasn’t a bud this time, just a congealed mass of petals which had been sitting in your throat during this entire ordeal. You were able to catch it in your mouth, the sweetly abhorrent taste of roses drenching your tongue, almost forcing you to spit it out onto the floor.

The petals scattered, as if they were never stuck together in the first place, and you stare at them in abject terror. They fell to the floor so innocently, like they weren’t a sign of immediate danger.

“But... how?” Your gaze rose to Murdoc, who was in just as much shock as you were. His eyes were locked on the petals, not even glancing up to look at you. “M-Murdoc! I... I thought that-” A dry heave cut you off. “...You said you loved me...”

Murdoc blinked, your words the only thing that tore his gaze from your odd expulsions.

“What?” He sounded as confused as he looked, his brows knitting together as he met your horrified eyes.

“The disease!” You shouted, as if he was supposed to know what the hell you were talking about. He recoiled, like you had grown claws and lashed out at him. “Noodle said that if you-” Another heave. Another broken sentence. This time you coughed and sputtered, spraying spittle across the floor, finally stopping just to pant and catch your breath. “Unless... You...” Your words - your thoughts - came between ragged breaths, your eyes darted about on the floor, like you were trying to piece together an invisible puzzle.

“Bird, I don’t quite follow.”

There was that name again. It brought another wave of burning pain to your heart, and another flurry of petals were scattered along the floor. You didn’t understand. If anything, that name should’ve drove the infection back. It was a pet name, something people only used affentionaly. Affection meant love... didn’t it?

Then it hit you. Your eyes went wide at the realization, and you slowly looked up at Murdoc.

“You don’t like me?” Your voice cracked a little, like admitting it hurt more than the roots twisting up your respiratory system. He never explicitly said that he liked you, but then again, he didn’t say he didn’t like you either, and yet here you were, horking up pounds of rose petals that only grew out of rejection. “But then why would you...”

Once again, your gaze went to the floor, back to that puzzle, back to why your infection never left - or perhaps why it started in the first place. He was acting as if he cared, just like he did months ago, just like he did when you were drunk enough to believe anything he said.

And how you were desperate enough to believe him now.

“Oh my god...”

It was that night all over again. You kissed him with such love and passion, believing fully that he loved you. That somehow, you were different than all the skanks he brought home from the bar. And then he had proved you wrong. So wrong that your heart broke, and in the rubble a seed of hurt found purchase and grew to a vital point.

Only now, that seed was almost fully grown. In the moment you meant to uproot it, it was only given more reason to be, more strength to take over your body - more strength to kill you.

“You were using me.” Your gaze met his, only this time your eyes burned with hostility. The infection amplified your anger, small tears brimming in the corners of your eyes. “You’ve been taking advantage of my feelings!”

At that, Murdoc mirrored your scowl.

“Now that’s not true!” He snapped. “You really think I’m some sort of lowly shithead who preys on lonely women?”

You scooped up some of the petals from the floor and thrust them forward.

“Look at this! This wouldn’t be happening if you actually-”

For the last time, your lungs interrupted you. This time, it was a bud. You could feel the hard, round object in the bottom of your throat, and you spat it out at quickly as you could.

It didn’t stay half bloomed once it was dislodged though. This time, to your horror, the half bloomed rose spread it’s petals before your very eyes. The petals were speckled in a deep red liquid, one that almost blended in with the rose’s natural color.

It was growing, even when it wasn’t attached to you. His rejected was so stagnant it was feeding the infection outside of your body. There was no hiding it now.

“Get out.”

You words were soft, but harsh, venom seeping from each syllable.

“What?” He didn’t hear you. Somehow, he didn’t get the massage from that very simple statement, and that only made you angrier.

“Get out!!” In your fury, you grabbed the offending blossom and hurled it right at him. it hit him dead in the chest, though it didn’t do much other than leave a small splatter of your blood on his shirt.

Murdoc caught it on reflex, then just sort of held it, like he wasn’t sure what else to do. Still, he stepped away from you, backing towards the bathroom door.

“Get out! I never want to see you again, just get out!”

He did just that, hurrying out the door without a second word. He still held the rose, maybe not even realizing he had it. He had to fumble with the lock before the door was open, and it slammed behind him when he was finally out.

For a moment, you stayed how you were, on your hands and knees, panting, and staring at the door - the last place you saw him - with pure malice.

But then the tears started.

The tears before your eyes shut tight, then they ran down your face and fell from your nose to the floor. Some landed on the flower petals, even mixing with the blood spatter, and they were all heavy enough to make a small pat as they hit.

As you cried, the hiccups started, and soon after came the coughing. You handn’t noticed the ache streadily crawling up your throat. Maybe the cursed plants were attracted to your salty tears, or maybe the pain of the ordeal was finally sinking in, and the disease was starting to truly flourish. Whatever the case, you didn’t care anymore.

Leaves were starting to joint the petals. Small, spiny, scratching your throat and tongue more then the petals did. The blood also started coming more, a thick layer basting your tognue and sending a small trickle down your chin.

Your throat swelled out. Breathing became more and more of a chore, which wasn’t helping your pathetic sobbing any.

Eventually, your arms gave out, and you curled up into a tight ball, weeping and sputtering. Your head hit the floor pretty hard, leaving a swelling lump and a pounding head ache, but you didn’t care. The bathroom floor was a mess, but you didn’t care. The infection was over taking your respiratory system, slowly sucking the life out of you, but you didn’t care.

You just didn’t care anymore.

#murdoc x reader #hanahaki disease #minimal/no editing #angst #first draft #only draft #Gorillaz #reader insert

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brief-candle · 5 years ago

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αℓεα ιαcтα εsт - various kny x reader [1]

reuploaded bc my tumblr is being stinky >:(( update: still being stinky. for some reason this isn’t showing up in any tags no matter what i do and i’m so confused? bc the second chapter’s showing up??? idk :/

also was wondering if y’all would be interested in seeing some art that i do sometimes, bc i’ve kinda been getting back into drawing lately!

THIS IS A YANDERE SERIES. JUST SO YOU KNOW. I WILL WARN OF ANY TRIGGER WARNINGS IN FUTURE CHAPTERS, BUT THIS ONE’S NICE AND TAME!! TY FOR READING AND HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY!! <3

GENERAL OTHER STUFF TO KNOW BEFORE YOU READ: MC (READER) IS FEMALE; THERE IS A BUNCH OF CANON DIVERGENCE; MANGA-ONLY CHARACTERS WILL APPEAR IN LATER CHAPTERS, THOUGH I DON’T PLAN TO DEAL WITH ANY PLOT ELEMENTS THAT DON’T APPEAR IN THE ANIME.

edit: chapter 2 is out!!

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

The sun was high in the sky, beating down on the trio that were treading unfamiliar ground. The scenery looked very much like that which they'd seen countless times before, but that was to be expected to an extent. They were in the same country that they'd always been in, after all, however that didn't alleviate the sense that something was amiss in these parts. These parts that were so close to where they'd always been, yet seemed so completely and utterly different all at once.

"Tanjirou...!" One of them wailed, as usual. He was already a couple of paces behind, but had really began to drag his feet over the last couple of metres. Though this behaviour was very much usual for the wailer, Tanjirou didn't act annoyed in the slightest. Not that such a thing was surprising in any way- Tanjirou was too patient and kind for his own good sometimes.

He turned to face the boy, who was barely making an effort to catch up, while the third begrudgingly stopped also. With eyebrows slightly furrowed in concern, he asked: "what's wrong, Zenitsu?"

Zenitsu- the wailer- was huffing and puffing when he finally made it over to Tanjirou. It appeared difficult to even stand up straight, as he wavered and wobbled with each slight and rare gust of wind.

Still wheezing, he gasped out a desperate question, "are we nearly there yet?"

Tanjirou stared at him for a moment in silence, before sighing deeply.

"Hey- what was that for?!" Although completely out of breath just a moment earlier, it seemed that his energy had been restored enough to begin to screech. It was whiny and hurt the ears, though that was probably its purpose, knowing Zenitsu. It was no wonder why he couldn't get married when he began to speak using such a tone of voice; it truly was grating on the ears. Never mind his whiny begging, clinging, desperate tone and actions mixed with his general perversion. If you happened to be feminine and breathing, chances are Zenitsu was interested.

But I digress.

Their companion snorted before erupting into a fit of mean-spirited cackling at the blond's outburst, having held it back from even his initial whining. This only served to fuel Zenitsu's irritation, leading to his pitch raising and voice increasing in volume as he began to (attempt to) berate the boar-headed male.

"Zenitsu..." oh dear, it seems that Tanjirou is tired of this situation. He even pulled out the 'I'm not mad, just disappointed' tone of voice and expression.

Zenitsu noticed this immediately, quieting down very soon after, only to pipe up with a, "yes?"

"This is the third time that you've asked in five minutes."

"And?!" And suddenly, his enthusiasm that he could have been putting into walking and actually getting somewhere instead of simply complaining returned with a vengeance, arms flailing with fury as he did so, "we've been walking since dawn, and you're telling me that we're not there yet?!"

Tanjirou nodded.

"No way...!" His voice lingered long after he'd collapsed to the ground, lying there like a starfish and staring at the sky with a gaze like that of a dead fish.

"Hey, Zenitsu, are you alright?" Tanjirou- bless his cotton socks- had asked without a moment's hesitation as soon as it had happened. However he did make a very strange noise of confusion soon after, if that counts for anything. Either way, though, he was still staring down at his friend with a very worried face. Their friend, on the other hand, only began to snicker louder at such a display.

"This is the end for me, Tanjirou." Said Zenitsu, not even glancing in Tanjirou's direction as he did so. Each word was monotonous, too even in tone to be from Zenitsu. "You must go on without mE-"

His even-toned speaking evolved into a high-pitched shriek as he was dragged up and slung over the shirtless male's shoulder- him still cackling- before the latter began to sprint away.

"Hey, Inosuke-!"

"INOSUKE, PUT ME DOWN, STOPSTOPSTOPSTOP--"

Tanjirou didn't even have time to sigh again before he had to sprint after them, lest he get left behind. Though even if he did, he supposed it would be easy to find them without even having to sniff them out, with the obnoxious laughter and the terrified screaming. For such a normal, kindhearted boy, he certainly had some strange friends.

They kept running along the path until the sun flew over them, now threatening to disappear beyond even more hills. However the scenery here was rather different, with large fields of grass to the left and crops growing to the right. It was well-organised and looked well-maintained, however Tanjirou didn't even want to know how many people would have to work so rigorously to maintain the land.

"Oh, are you boys demon slayers by any chance?"

It was sudden, abrupt, and caught all three of them off guard. Perhaps if it didn't sound so gentle and feminine then they'd have reacted a bit more quickly and with a bit more force. However they were glad they didn't when they saw the owner of the voice: a young woman, ordinary-looking by all means, but with a certain twinkle in her eyes that looked very amused by what had just happened. And for good reason, too, as one had screamed, one had turned so quickly that it was surprising that their neck didn't snap, and the other grunted. Except it was more of a surprised grunt if anything. Though it was extremely hard to tell the difference between each type of grunt.

"Did I scare you? I'm terribly sorry." She bowed politely as she spoke, each word matching her reserved and respectful demeanour. However she clearly wasn't adept enough at hiding how much enjoyment she'd gotten out of witnessing such strange reactions, as the corners of her mouth struggled to not turn upwards.

"No, no, it's fine; there's certainly no need for a lovely lady like yourself to apologise!" Of course, this was Zenitsu speaking, having recovered rather quickly from his screech that was much more ladylike than any lady that the other two had come across. It was clear that he wanted to move on from that as soon as possible, in some vain hope that this person might be the one that was sympathetic enough to marry him. So far, he'd had no luck. And he was growing more desperate by the minute.

But as he tried to grow closer, he was soon flung a couple of metres away in an instant. Such an event was followed by the woman's scolding voice. However, for once, it wasn't Zenitsu getting scolded. Instead, in an unlikely turn of events, it was something getting scolded for his sake. Every now and again into her scolding session, a whinny attempted to be heard, only to result in even more scolding. Tanjirou and Inosuke only looked on, minds just as blank as their faces. What does one do in such a situation?

Well, upon realising that Zenitsu was bleeding, Tanjirou very quickly decided to try and help him. Inosuke merely watched on for a moment, before making a sound of awe and withdrawing his swords from their sheaths with a rather terrifying cackle,

"What a beast! If I can take it down, then-"

"Please don't try and fight my horse."

"Inosuke!"

-----------

It had taken a while to sort everything out, so much so that nightfall was but minutes away. Thankfully, even after the Inosuke incident, the woman had been willing to let them stay in her house for the night, perhaps more if Zenitsu needed extra rest. His friends already knew that he'd play on the illness card just to continue trying to court the poor girl, but it was something that they simply couldn't hope to change.

"She's really kind, isn't she?" Zenitsu gushed to them in the shared room that had been provided, "giving us all this stuff, even after what Inosuke tried to pull." It was impossible to miss the annoyance lacing his voice as he mentioned Inosuke, who had now taken off the board head and was lying on the best futon available. Not because he deserved it, but because he refused to move off it for Zenitsu who, despite his ulterior motives to his injury, was indeed injured.

At that, Tanjirou grew curious, "Inosuke, have you never seen a horse before?"

"Horse? You mean that thing that Zenitsu lost against? 'Course not!"

'Course not?

"Inosuke..." Oh, how Tanjirou wanted to explain everything wrong with what was just said, but that would require too much time and too much energy for the night. A night which had followed a hectic day which was extremely tiring.

He glanced over at the box he'd been carrying all day, lips pursed slightly to accompany a conflicted expression. Was it alright for Nezuko to come out here, when their host could walk in at any second? It would be difficult to explain their situation, especially to someone who may have lost their entire family to a demon. It could also be dangerous to Nezuko to be put in such a position. And so he shuffled over to the box, opting to sit near it rather than to open it.

"Sorry, Nezuko," he murmured, patting the wooden walls of the box carefully, "but you'll have to stay in there for a bit. I'm sure I can let you out for a bit tomorrow, if we're still here."

Inside the box, there was a bit of shuffling to be heard. But soon after was an acknowledging grunt, one which Tanjirou thanked her for, face forming a bright and beaming smile. It was just in time that he'd shuffled back to his futon, as the woman knocked upon the door and entered very soon after. The relief he felt knowing that he had narrowly avoided a sticky situation was immense, though he had to admit that he felt a little bit nervous when thinking of what could have so easily taken place instead.

"Sorry to interrupt," she said, a tray in her hands. Immediately after shutting the door behind her, she placed the tray on a nearby table, sitting beside it. "I made some tea, if you'd like some. I figured it'd been a long day for you all, so I decided to make some tea to help soothe the body and mind." Her words were spun like silk, with a quality to her voice like warm honey. The tea merely became one of the many aromas which wafted around the house, mingling and mixing to form one very odd (and quite overpowering) smell.

Zenitsu was (predictably) the first to join her, singing her praises to the heavens. She merely accepted them with the humility and grace that they'd come to expect from her, and so they all began to sip their tea in comfortable silence.

That is, until she was the one to shatter the comfortable atmosphere.

"I'm sorry for how abrupt it may be for me to say this," she started with, glancing briefly into each of their eyes before returning it back downwards to her own cup. It was held between her hands, and she squeezed it ever so slightly before continuing, "but I fear I must ask, lest anything undesirable occurs."

After one more sip, which felt so drawn out that it was as if she had sipped it until it was all gone, she began to elaborate: "Please, no matter what you hear, do not go out after nightfall."

That was certainly not what they were expecting to hear, especially being demon slayers. Their whole occupation was to fight demons, which required them to go out at night. It was safe to say that such a thing was a very odd request. Even if she had phrased it more like a demand.

Indeed, as she began to speak of that which she wished of them, her voice seemed to drop the kindness that they'd grown to associate with it. The honey that she wound into each word was cut loose, leaving that which she said with a bitter taste in their mouths.

Well, not Inosuke's. He, after chugging the rest of his tea (which was still very much piping hot), asked with little to no hesitation: "Why?"

The girl clearly wasn't expecting this, blinking owlishly twice before repeating the question with a slight tilt of the head.

"Yeah- why not? We're demon slayers, after all, so it's not as if the demons pose a threat." As usual, Inosuke was cocky and boisterous in everything that he did. His words were drowned in such an attitude, his movements were made from them, his expressions screaming them. Still, it did little to affect her, who sharply poked a hole in what he'd said without a moment's delay.

"Really? Then does Kibutsuji Muzan not pose a threat? Or the Demon Moons?" This time, even her eyes had dropped the gentle and kind mirth to them. It was difficult to recall the last time that she'd blinked as she sat there, the sharp colours found in her irises standing out much more in the dim candlelight as she bore holes into he who spoke against her.

Before he could speak up again, she rose to her feet, staring down at them all. Perhaps it was the fiery and temperamental glow of the candlelight rather than the calm and natural light from the sun that accentuated the tense atmosphere- so tense that perhaps a knife could not even slice through it. Perhaps it was also the lighting that made her seem much more ominous than she had at any other moment, that made the scowl she wore more menacing than it would be. It would have been a question as to whether she'd been scowling at all, whether her lip had been curled that much and her eyebrows furrowed so deeply that the skin between them crinkled, had she not spoken so coldly and with a tone so clipped.

"There is a difference between confidence and foolishness. Perhaps it would be best that you learn this difference before your next fight."

This humble farmer, who'd chuckled with them just a few hours before and boasted little more than a simple yet productive life, uttered sentences in which wisdom, the kind which could be born only from experience, ran like rivers. Yet when prodded when she let them slip, she merely brushed it off, claiming a relative used to say it. Or something to that extent.

She bowed then, deeper than ever before, and after excusing herself had disappeared into the darkness of the hallways.

No conversation stuck that night, and sleep had a similar pattern when it finally came.

-----------

Despite struggling sleeping, on edge due to events that never ended up occurring, the three awoke a bit after daybreak. It was about five minutes later that a knock on the door echoed through the room. It was rather surprising to find the woman who was so moody and distant the night before, looking so chipper and energetic in the morning. Once again, she brought in a tray, bearing a simple breakfast for them all and accompanied by some more tea. She placed it on that table once more, removing the other tray at the same time. Once again, she excused herself, though this time it was with the same merriment that they'd expected from her before the occurrence of the previous night. It seemed so hazy now, almost like a fever dream.

However they knew it wasn't. They knew it was real, without even having to confront each other about it. Although she never brought it up and cleverly avoided giving them a chance to, they didn't doubt for a moment that what had happened the previous night was equally odd and true.

And so, while she excused herself from the house very soon after taking away the almost untouched tea from the night before, they concocted a plan. It was morally very wrong, but their curiosity overturned their morals in this place. Not only was her behaviour rather odd, but the more that they thought about it, the house was rather odd as well.

"It smells so weird..." Tanjirou had found himself to be the first to complain about the house. The smell was beginning to irritate him with how powerful it was, so much so that he couldn't even begin to separate the different scents and their origins. Such a thing was so simple for him to do usually, yet he was unable to do so here. It was unnerving to think about; a demon could attack at any notice and he wouldn't even be able to know.

Inosuke was next up: "y'know, I was excited and all at first with how soft the floor is- I mean, where else do you get floor that's soft? In a house?!" The more he thought, the more he got distracted by how much he liked the softness of the material under his feet and hands, and how it separated in between his fingers and toes but was still so soft-

"Get on with it, we don't have all day," Zenitsu commented bitterly, quite upset that his most recent crush wasn't honest and trusting of him, someone she'd met literally the day before.

"Ah-" and Inosuke was brought back to present day, clearing his throat, "but yeah, I can't even feel anything else apart from how fuckin' soft this floor is. And the house!" He slammed open the door to the hallways, terribly startling Zenitsu in the process, "Is full of it!"

Zenitsu's heart seemed to be racing too fast for him to be able to participate in their little chat for a bit, but thankfully five minutes with a cup of tea had calmed his nerves. Not before he began to mutter very angrily about Inosuke under his breath for 'trying to kill' him, mind, but with a gentle prod from Tanjirou he began to share as well.

"I've never really come across anything like it..." he mumbled, quite ashamed of it as he dug a finger in his ear, "and it might sound kinda stupid, but I can't hear anything through these walls."

It took a moment for that one to sink in- such a thing seemed impossible. However he soon added on to what he said.

"Well, actually I do hear some stuff. But it's really faint, even though I can't hear stuff that's right outside."

"Like what?" Tanjirou immediately asked. This prompted Zenitsu to think deeply, staring up at the ceiling and humming for a moment.

"Dunno. Footsteps? They sound kinda far, though, so surely that's not it."

That was true. And so the trio began to think a bit more, staring at different places in the room and humming to themselves as they did so. Tanjirou even began to talk to Nezuko about it, even if she couldn't respond. Seeing as their host wasn't in the house currently, he deemed it safe to let her out and wander around a bit to stretch her legs. She had been in that box for over a full day, after all.

Then, as he watched her toddle around, an idea struck him.

"Wait, Zenitsu!" The sudden outburst shocked the aforementioned male, but (thankfully) not bad enough that he needed more tea and a time-out session.

Tanjirou pointed at his younger sister, who stared up at him questioningly, "how loud are Nezuko's footsteps?"

It was a strange question to ask out of the blue, but with how serious Tanjirou looked, Zenitsu replied as soon as he processed it, "pretty loud. Way louder than even Inosuke's."

This prompted an irritated growl from Inosuke, who looked ready to brawl with Zenitsu over the implications of that statement.

At this, Tanjirou lowered a fist onto his open palm, an expression of realisation on his face, "then what if they are footsteps?"

This question seemed even stranger at first glance- how could they be footsteps when footsteps from right outside the room couldn't even be heard? It just didn't seem logical, especially when the one that was navigating the hallways wasn't even very stealthy from what they'd seen of her. But then it clicked, and Zenitsu's face paled at the very notion of it.

"You can't mean-"

"Yes, I do." His face was deadly serious as he stared at Zenistu, ignoring Inosuke's persistent pestering to know what was going on. The latter's questions were answered anyway when he elaborated: "I think there's a demon in this house."

-----------

"Tanjirou..." Zenitsu was barely able to speak through the chattering of his teeth, which was the one thing that didn't falter about him as they headed down the stairs. Even Inosuke was being quieter, not uttering a single thing, nor even laughing at the blond's misery from underneath that boar mask of his. They'd found the staircase from behind a bookshelf, only doing so when Inosuke had felt the drag marks it had left on the carpet that he so loved.

It was dark, and would only get darker the further down that they went. It would be all too easy for the girl to trap them in there if she discovered where they'd gone, but it was a risk that they were willing to take. For there was a chance, no matter how slim, that she may not know of the demon in her house. Or perhaps it is forcing her to provide shelter for it to stay. There were too many possibilities which could mean that she was in danger, and all of them stemmed from the demon being in her house.

"Tanjirou...!" He repeated, a bit louder and whinier this time. Even Nezuko, who had forced them to allow her to tag along, shot him a look of disapproval. And if nothing else shut him up, then that certainly did, for Zenitsu was a creep to the core, and would drop anything that any living girl disliked that he did in a heartbeat. At least it came in handy sometimes, such as now.

There was light further ahead, and Tanjirou could smell it clearly now: it truly was the scent of a demon, and they would have left without knowing such a thing had they not been so insistent before. Sometimes, in rare moments like these and when he was asleep, Zenitsu was truly useful to have around. But then he squealed, and a huge list of reasons as to why not to have him around could easily be thought up.

Either way, there was no point in sneaking around now that Zenitsu had blown their cover so soon. Duct tape would have really come in handy. If only it was invented about half a century earlier. But, alas, this was their fate, and it was one that they had no choice but to live through. They didn't have the upper hand of surprise, but they certainly had the upper hand in numbers.

And if everything went to pot then they could just knock Zenitsu out. Always seems to work a treat.

As they crept into the light of the room, they took note of the figure kneeling in the centre. He faced away from them, though many of his features could be noted of. The first and most bizarre thing to note was the sword laying beside him. At least, it was the most bizarre until they took note of his clothing, which was extremely similar to theirs, though he also adorned a white jacket over the top of it. His hair was a mess of white, tinted with the warm hue of the flickering flames of the torches around him.

He hadn't noticed Nezuko's growling until now, nor her intense and furious glare. If looks could kill, that guy wouldn't even have ashes left.

"You really haven't learned what respect is at all, have you, you damned brat?"

That voice- how could Tanjirou forget that voice? The voice of the Hashira who had attacked his sister from a couple of years ago with a twisted grin all over his face. He was quick to understand Nezuko's growling, and had to hold her back from rushing in to attack him. The one thing that protected him from her was now gone, and he was one of what they hated.

He turned, a similar expression to the one back then written on his face, with those purple eyes still so wide, smile so wide that it split his face and nonexistent eyebrows furrowed. Though his rise to his feet was slow, obviously taking his time, they still didn't attack. Zenitsu's whole body was clattering with fear, clamming up and making him unable to say anything at all.

"It looks like I'll have to teach you myself, doesn't it? Maybe then it'll finally stick, even with a moron like you!"

As a human, he was already extremely quick. But as a demon he was even quicker as he lunged towards them, blade in hand and all too eager to strike.

#yandere x reader #yandere kny #yandere kny x reader #yandere kimetsu no yaiba #yandere #x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny #kny x reader

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toysoldiers-rwby · 4 years ago

Text

[SYT] 5. the leading lamb

Show Your Teeth

Characters: Fiona, Winter, May, Robyn, Joanna Rating: Mature Tags: implied abuse, hurt/comfort, parental sibling, confessions, fluff Word Count: 7,219

Summary: Three Mantle Rats are invited to an Atlesian Party. What can go wrong?

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A/N: as a survive it’s very important for me to NEVER focus on the abuse itself. I try very hard to imply it and show the damage it can do but honestly I’m tired of reading stories where it’s just pain. So I try very hard to focus on the recovery and healing. I’d love feedback on this. Also check Ao3 for NSFW art lol. i forgot tumblr hates links so i think i’ll just edit it back in after a week or something to keep things organized.

Some how a shopping trip also turned into a raid on the local arcade. Fiona was winning despite what all the leaderboards was saying. Winter was cheating, she had to be. Robyn and Joanna was the better shot, they were the only ones that used range weapons a regular basis! Still Winter came in first. May should have won the batter’s game, her favorite weapon was a staff. Number One? Winter Schnee. The other three loudly cheered Fiona on as she adjusted her grip on the hammer.

The last game was a the gold on ‘Test of the Strength.’ Sure, some of was actual strength but almost all of it was leverage. Fiona loved stealing… borrowing! Loved borrowing heavy weapons. Axes… Elm’s hammer. She almost got Marrow’s boomerang and still had two years to do it. A worker quickly stepped in as Joanna was some how about to convince the man they’ll settle the matter like adults.

Several minutes later they had enough tickets to buy all the giant stuff animals on display. Like adults, everyone gave their tickets to the children nearby.

Like an adult, Fiona slammed her fist on the counter and demanded the giant lion.

“By the brothers, Fi…” Robyn mumbled a little embarrassed.

It was the fifth time she’d manage to surprise and fluster the women. Fiona wasn’t counting the smirk tugging at her lips and cute mole on her chin. The fluttering in her chest wasn’t getting worse and her hands didn’t feel cold and empty when she looked at Robyn. Fiona only hugged her stuff animal tighter.

“I won and Winter cheated! I deserve a trophy!” Fiona argued sticking her tongue out at them. In truth she just needed something to desperately keep her hands occupied. Joanna was the only one that smiled fondly at her and ruffled her hair. The other three acted disappointed.

And to be extra annoying she refused to absorbed it and forced the group to return to Robyn’s apartment. Fiona dumped several bags of clothes onto the living room floor and then took the couch with her new best friend. May took the time to choose to pick out everyone’s outfit and will most likely buy a few more accessories when they head up to Atlas.

“What should I name it?” Fiona asked with a grin, ears wiggling happily.

“Childish,” Robyn said with a soft teasing bite. Fiona didn’t notice the way her eyes light up, all bright and unguarded. Or noticed Robyn’s habit of blowing her fringe out of her eyes.

“Deviant,” May said slowly shifting through the bags. Eventually the others helped her but Fiona stayed on the couch.

“Selfish,” Joanna added.

“You all suck,” Fiona mumbled. She fell back, laying down on the couch and not even taking up all the space. She held up the stuff lion above her, playing with its tiny round ears as her own fluttered happily.

Today was the most fun she had in years. And not because of the sex. A sudden shiver rolled through Fiona’s body, a flash of heat dried her mouth and warmed her cheeks. The sight of Robyn stretched out before her… The sweetness rolling off her tongue and down her chin and neck. Her ears fluttered, remembering how Robyn screamed Fiona’s name.

Fiona buried her face against the muzzle. Trying not to groan at the memory. Robyn was her teammate, going to be her huntress partner. Not… Fiona tried to shelved her dancing heart. It was just… stress relief between friends. Casual hookups and friends with benefits weren’t unheard of when majority of Atlas’ population was asexual.

Robyn will be her new partner. They’ll pass their combat final with flying colors and… and ideally Robyn will stay. Fiona swallowed her racing heart back down to her chest. She’d get to see those stupid eyes everyday.

“I’ll name you… Spring.” Fiona said cuddling her trophy. Robyn glanced at her with a smirk and raised brow. “For new beginnings!” Fiona huffed and pouted at the women. Robyn’s smile eased the tension from her shoulders, looking… a lot how like Winter looks at May. Stupidly fond and earnest and Fiona had to look away with ears fluttering about.

“You have competition now,” Joanna teased, elbowing her partner. Fiona saw a light blush on Robyn’s tanned cheeks for a second. They all turned back to the elites, noticing May holding up an outfit that wasn’t for any of them.

“They won’t be able to do any compression for awhile,” Winter said. They, meaning the Thief. Fiona sat up, resting her chin on her trophy’s shoulder. The two elites picked out an outfit for the Thief on their last shopping trip. May shifted a little more, looking away uncomfortably.

Fiona realized that she never saw May in anything that she didn’t want to wear. She switched between the boy’s and girl’s uniform according to her mood, wore makeup whenever she felt like it and never because it was required. Fiona always thought it was May being May, a rebellious brat tired of all the rules… the rules just never applied to her in the beginning.

Fiona touched her ears, only being able to relate on a different level. “Scarf’s are good too,” Fiona said. Her teammates gave her a pointed look with a soft sneer. Fiona pouted at it back before Robyn playfully sat down next to her and tugged at the scarf around her neck.

“Are you ever going to give it back?” May tried to be teasing but was still a little tense.

“Maybe… not?” Fiona mumbled, an idea hitting her. She blushed and looked away. It was stupid and humans always got the wrong impression but it was true. “Maybe we should give it to the Thief-”

“Glade,” May gently reminded.

“We should give it to Glade,” Fiona corrected. “They responded pretty well to me and May so it might calm them down.” Joanna and Robyn glanced at each other a little confused. “Um… Faunus are wired differently,” Fiona answered, fidgeting a little in her seat. She never actually had to explain it to May and Winter. The pair picked up on it because they’re secretly super attentive and sweet. “We’re not hunting dogs, it works on a subconscious level and we don’t really notice it.” Fiona said. She was dancing around the subject a little because her nose was a little more sensitive than the average Faunus. Everyone had their own unique scent. Winter smelled of cool fresh air, like fresh dawn and a new beginning. May smelled of flowers, so soft it wrapped and cuddle Fiona from the inside.

Robyn and Joanna smelled like the forest of Mistral. Deep and rich, the kind of ground you could really set roots in and grace with flowers. Every bit of them was different parts of a home Fiona would like some day. No wonder Glade snuck in earlier.

Robyn and Joanna raised a brow. The slight movement helping Fiona realize she was quiet a little too long, “People just smell nice,” Fiona blurted out with a blush. “Familiar smells are calming while strangers are…”

“Upsetting?” Robyn asked.

“Kinda? It’s why May cuddles me when we need to sleep in hotels.”

“And why they practically dragged you into Robyn’s room last night,” Joanna said with chuckled, “That’s adorable.” The three students blushed softly.

The little lamb grumbled and shifted in her seat. Fiona didn’t tell them it was a sign of trust and acceptance in Faunus culture. So when they dropped off the clothes at the clinic and the Thief- Glade, walked into the clinic’s staff lounge with the scarf wrapped around their neck, Fiona smiled brightly, ears wiggling happily.

They chose the grunge outfit her elites bought, subtly turtling into the scarf as they tucked their wavy pale green hair into beanie… Keeping their eyes closed until they slipped on the dark reflective shades. Was their Faunus trait their eyes? Where they nocturnal or did they have non-human eyes?

“Thanks,” The Thief. said with a soft smile.

“Yeah, of course,” May tried to act like Winter, stoic and aloof. It was an adorable failure that had Fiona and her group of mismatched friends snickering. She grumbled at the mismatch group and looked focused on Dr. Pietro, “Are you attending the Schnee recital tonight?”

“Perhaps, Young Glade here has offered to help me finish my work but I will definitely attending Silvio’s birthday later this week,” Dr. Pietro said with a smile while the Thief frowned a little.

“Glade? What am I a stray dog?”

“We even got you a collar,” May taunted, pulling at collar of their flannel shirt. Glade only scoffed and quickly retreated back into the clinic, favoring one side over the other. Everyone noticed and gave Dr. Pietro a worried look.

“A broken leg that never healed right. Completely unrelated to what happened this morning.” Dr. Pietro said. " We had a close call with Ms. Goodwitch and Silvio earlier but they’ll be safe. If they stay here," He stressed the last bit loudly and pointedly.

“I promise I’ll keep you all out of trouble,” Glade yelled somewhere in the clinic.

“Not reassuring!” Fiona yelled back as they left. She took a few dancing steps in front of the group, smiling up at her friends, “So we ready to head back to Atlas?”

“Let’s see… Glade? Treated and recovering. Window. Fixed. Weapons?” Robyn asked.

“Check!” Fiona smile with a flick of her wrist, a switchblade was suddenly in her hands and flicked open. The others seemed to falter a little, a quick blush appearing on everyones face and Robyn looking particularly… bothered. Fiona only brightly smiled at her until Winter cleared her throat.

“Atlesian lesson 101?” The Schnee asked next.

“They’re bitches,” May and Robyn answered at the same time. Fiona giggled as Winter lightly glared at them both. “Public opinion is everything,” Robyn answered. “And 102, deliver what they think they want.”

What the Atlesians wanted from Robyn wasn’t far from who she actually was.

Joanna cleared her throat, “An average civilian, rising to the occasion to save a brilliant mind during a sudden attack on Mantle, the charismatic hero who always gets the girl in the end,” she narrated the hard-light poster dramatically before throwing her head back and laughing.

Thank god Winter had the foresight to drag them to Schnee Manor before the actual recital started. The only people around were servers, security, and fiends. It gave time for the Mantle Rats to get used to the environment, to the disgusting show of wealth. They had space for real trees in the city. Gated behind a wall with security cameras pointing out in every direction. Marble, chrome, rich dark oaks constructed the building and hard-light lamps advertised the Schnee emblem and tied it all with a soft blue glow.

Then there was the hijacked hard-light poster.

It was suppose to be displaying the poster May showed them earlier today, Weiss sinking on stage. Instead it was Robyn. Valiantly fighting Grimm in the foreground, fending off those creepy long fingers and giving Fiona time to grab Silvio as the ground erupted beneath them. Fiona tilted her head.

It looked like a movie still.

A very hot one Fiona would probably take for herself later but it didn’t feel right. “Is this what people see when they watch Huntsmen and Huntresses fight?” She asked softly. “Just action and adventure? Not, y’know… helping people?”

“It always seems like saving people is the ultimate form of help. It gets rather tiresome.”

The group turned around to see Goodwitch approaching. Her usual wear was formal enough, a lot more than the group’s casual suits and dresses. Robyn’s tie was purposely loose the top two buttons left open for that perfectly clean your-not-important-enough-for-me-to-care persona the group decided on. Just thinking about it made Fiona’s hand twitched. She wanted to pull at it for a while now. She enjoyed Robyn’s shock and flustered face and that tie… Robyn’s her teammate, not a casual fuck.

Fiona took a slow breath and looked back up at Goodwitch who eye did bounce between the gold bird pin everyone wore on their body.

“I’d like to formally apologize on Qrow’s behalf,” Goodwitch said a bit reluctantly. “Though I do not apologize for his absence. He’ll probably just puke all over the floor or hassle the servers.”

"If you want to apologize stop bringing up that drunk," May said, her arm leaving the small dip of WInter’s back. Winter tried to stay relax but was glaring hard up at the Vale huntress.

Goodwitch smile, “Best idea all day. Worse being people sneaking Grimm into the city,” She finished looking at Robyn and Fiona. The words made Fiona’s heartbeat leap into her throat. There… that was one explanation. The only reasonable. May did say something about a greater plan. Glade was the only one that acted- No. Fiona looked at Robyn, Glade was the only one that had the skill and resources to act. “James has told me you’ve looked into previous cases, Detective Hill?”

Detect… Detective?! Fiona tried not to sputter at the title. She tried to relax her ears, stop them from sticking straight out from the sides of her head. Joanna chuckled softly beside her and ruffled her hear, unfreezing her muscles.

“Fighting rings have started to bring in small non-Atlas Grimm to spice things up,” Robyn said. Fiona pulled her head out of the gutter, trying to focus on the conversation. Joanna set a hand on her partner’s shoulder, calming her down enough to continue civilly. “We’ve been trying to get the military involved for months.”

“Do you think these events are related?” Goodwitch asked.

“We put a dent in the major rings so I hope not,” Joanna whispered. “If Atlas gangs figure out how to turn Grimm into weapons…” Fiona didn’t want to think about those Imps agains.

“We’re already seeing some bandit tribes in Anima use similar tactics,” Goodwitch informed. One reason why Atlas was so crowded and industrialized was that Solitas made living outside of proper settlements difficult. Normal citizens without a protective Aura can’t even leave the kingdom without expensive equipment. “Extort them for protection by leading the Grimm to them and leave them once the main horde arrives.”

“They can’t all be connect,” Robyn said firmly shaking her head. “Twisted mines follow the same path every now and then.”

Goodwitch stared at the group for a long while, then smiled sadly, “I don’t suppose I can steal you from Atlas, can I?” Goodwitch asked.

“She’s mine,” Fiona blurted out, heart skipping a few beats as panic filled her for a second. She was so close to making things up to Winter and May. Just one last thing before they all continue with their training and studies, two years until they graduation. Robyn nudged her out of it a playful smirk comforting the little lamb. “She’s my partner for our combative final.”

“Ridiculous,” Goodwitch said with a deep scowl, “With how you all fought, I’ll see ensure James pass the three of you and accept you two into the Academy,” She looked at the students then at the detectives. The group blinked stunned until Goodwitch raised a brow.

“Thank you… ma’am,” Winter said softly. Even her eyes were wide.

Goodwitch only nodded. She turned on those high heels and practically marched away, “I look forward to working with you ladies again.”

“As long as that creepy as bird doesn’t break my shit!” Robyn called out after her. Robyn was practically bouncing, a large smile on her face as grabbed Joanna’s hands and practically bounced, “Heard that Joan! We’re Atlas students-”

“Your an Atlas student.” Joanna said pulling her hands free and pushing them firm on Robyn’s shoulders to stop her small bounce. " We don’t have the money for both of us to attend."

Fiona winced in sympathy, “I’m on almost five scholarships and it’s… not easy,” Fiona said softly. She needed to write essay’s attend tournaments, her workload was nearly tripped the average student’s. Another reason why she was so desperate to stay with Winter and May, another team would just hold her back. “I’m lucky i got teamed up with a perfectionist and a competitive idiot.” She nodded to Winter and May, both avoiding their gaze with an uncomfortable look. This wasn’t a conversation her elites usually hear.

Robyn scowled, gritting her teeth. Joanna smiled and patted her head like a she was pouting puppy, “We’ll figure something out Rob… Today is still our day off, right?” She looked at May who nodded.

“Would you two like a small tour of the manor?” Winter ask, already leading the group out of the foyer. They headed to the kitchen first, trying to walk past all the giant paintings of her family but Robyn stopped at the giant portrait. Winter tried to encourage the group to walk past but Joanna eyed the giant suit of armor and sword next to it. “My grandfather, Nicolas Schnee.”

“I read about him,” Joanna said, “When Robyn first suggested we go to Atlas Academy I laughed at her.”

“Yeah, I was so hurt I almost kicked you out,” Robyn mumbled. She turned towards Winter, “But you three know why we want to become Huntresses now.”

Fiona looked at Winter who pressed her lips tight. She only turned and walked deeper into the manor, forcing the group to follow. May didn’t leave her side, pressing into her shoulder every time a server passed with a tray of empty wine glasses. Their hands brushed every so often but neither of them made a move to hold on.

It was obvious why May joined. Winter was hung up on the fact that they only met their new friends yesterday.

“Same as you but a little different,” Fiona said, wiggling her ears for effect. “To help everyone, Mantle is just the start-” Suddenly hear ears perked up, flicking in the direction of the private area of the manor. It sounded like glass breaking.

“Damn it…” May mumbled. This time her hand finally slid into Winter’s, “I’ll check, you stay.”

“No.” Winter said, voice brittle and body so taunt it was ready to snap. Fiona hung back, letting May try and calm her not-girlfriend teammate. She also stopped Robyn from springing into action.

May stepped close, their heads leaned together to whisper as soft as possible. Fiona tried to ignore it but it was impossible with how quiet the hallways were. “You come, they come.” May said. Then her voice soften, “Please… Don’t put this all on me, Win.”

Winter blinked. Blue eyes shinning and cracking. Fiona would never say tears were in her eyes. After another squeeze Winter finally relaxed and let go of May’s hand. “Alright… Let’s go-”

“Stop! Please!” Silvio’s voice broke through the thick walls.

Immediately the group broke into a sprint. Winter was the fastest and Fiona was trailing behind her after absorbing her heels. A Glyph light the hallway. Before Fiona could stop her, a Beowolf roared, crawling out of it and slashing the door opened. She could hear two kids scream and another glass breaking.

Fiona only had a moment to take in the scene before the two kids ran towards them. Three adults and thanks to Fiona’s sensitive nose she could smell some alcohol on all their breaths. Weiss was in Winter’s arms in seconds and once Silvio stumbled out of Author Watt’s slacken grip, he was behind May.

“Let’s go.” May shoved Winter out of the room. She fought it, eyes on her mother and father. The Beowolf slowly growling.

“Please,” Weiss whispered. That finally broke Winter’s furious trance. She stepped back but left her Beowolf growling viciously it made Fiona’s ears twitch painfully low.

May lead them back to kitchens, Fiona could tell by the delicious smell and the clanking pots. It was the only life in the manor, the staff singing loudly and enjoying their work until the rich snobs came in and they’d have to act pleasant. When the group came in they immediately froze, nervous. They took one look at the kids and quieted down. The singing wasn’t as loud but still lively and cheerful.

Fiona watched some energy and return to the kids, a small weight lifting off their shoulders as Klein quickly appeared. His light brown eyes shifted from them to Winter, “Oh dear… what happened now-”

“Nothing.” Weiss said softly.

“Nothing new,” Silvio said with a scoff. He sat at the table, taking a dessert and stuffing it in his face before retreating into his Scroll. Klein sighed and replaced it with a fresh treat from the counter.

Fiona looked at Winter and May who gave her a gentle pleading look. The little lamb grabbed both Joanna and Robyn’s hands, leading them out of the kitchen. “Come on, their garden has real flowers in them,” Fiona said, trying to sound cheerful for the sake of the kids. Weiss didn’t smile and Silvio didn’t look up from his Scroll.

No one wanted to speak until they got the garden. Even then the heavy silence lingered, growing heavier as the trio watched the sunset on a bench. Finally Joanna sigh let out a loud sigh, leaning heavily into Fiona and pushing her into Robyn who easily bore the additional weight of two people.

“Maybe we should take Goodwitch’s offer and go to Vale?” Joanna mused softly. “It’d be cheaper too. Warmer. Friendlier.”

“But they don’t need us,” Fiona said softly.

Robyn came back to reality. Fiona and Joanna had to right themselves as she leaned forward and rubbed her face. “That is so messed up… Not even the rich has it easy in this fucking kingdom,” She was trembling. Voice on the verge of breaking and so damn angry. When Fiona tried bending down Robyn harshly turned away.

“I can smell you crying… sensitive nose remember?” Fiona whispered. She moved, taking Robyn’s other side so her and Joanna could sandwich Robyn in. Her hand hesitated, hovering above Robyn’s knee. Just as she was about to pull back Robyn uncurled and grabbed her hand. She held onto tightly as she leaned her head on Joanna’s shoulder and whipped away the tears with her other hand. “Now you know why they’re so protective of me… And why Winter wants to become a huntress.” Fiona said softly, rubbing comforting circles on Robyn’s skin with her thumb.

“What’s good is being an officer if I can’t even arrest a drunk huntsmen, let alone those three,” Joanna growled. She took a deep breath. Her arm was long enough to rest heavily on Robyn and Fiona’s shoulder. It was like a loose hold, so Fiona snuggled into both of them. For a long moment they all just sat there, letting their brains turn off.

Winter was the first to find them with a tray of food and drinks. She looked guilty but smiled seeing Fiona’s and Robyn’s hand tightly intertwine. Fiona haded how soft Winter’s voice came out, “I’m… I’m sorry you three had to see that.” She said. Fiona got up, passing the tray to Robyn and wrapping her arms tight around Winter.

“I’m sorry we can’t do anything they deserve,” Joanna said back. The three Mantle Rats invited Winter to sit with them on the bench but Winter politely refused, withdrawing a little instead. But she was here… and May asked her not to put it all on her anymore.

Fiona extruded a picnic blanket for them to sit on. Joanna and Robyn looked comfortable on the bench looked relaxed stretched out on the ground. After some thought, Robyn dropped her head onto Fiona’s lap. The little lamb smiled down at her, both enjoying and needing a sense of touch. Fiona selfishly let her heart beat faster, eyes wandering to Robyn lips and eyes as she played with the platinum strands of hair.

The cowardly part of Fiona wished Robyn didn’t relax the way she did, closing her eyes and humming softly in approval. At same time she’d hope to see it more. No wonder her two elite always got grumpy whenever their morning routine was interrupted.

“We’ve dealt with families with… similar situation,” Robyn explained, slowly turning her brain back on. “I can recommend some good therapist for your sister. Silvio too.”

“That’d… that’d be much appreciated. You’d have to talk to May about Silvio, she’s already helping him with… other things.” Winter said softly. She hide half her face behind a drink, her eyes meeting Fiona’s for a moment then down to Robyn and Joanna. “Thank you,” She whispered into her drink.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Robyn said with a small smile. She rolled onto her stomach and Fiona missed the warmth of her scalp and softness of her hair. “One more thing. Just pin May to the wall and fuck her already.” Winter blushed hard, coughing softly and trying to clear her throat. Joanna patted her back while Fiona giggled.

“I… I can’t-”

"Can’t? You practically fucking her through me," Robyn continued to press. Winter blushed harder, completely off balance and embarrassed by the topic. It was rare a sight, one that only May pulls off on a good day so Fiona jumped in.

“Technically, I was fucking you,” Fiona corrected, lightly flicking Robyn’s nose. “Because Winter’s too sweet on May to actually fuck another person,” She leaned forward and grinning at the Schnee. Winter tried to get Fiona to submit with a hard look. When Fiona started wiggling her brows a little Winter was forced to set her drink down or risk spilling it all over their semi-formal clothes. She barely remembered they were here for an Atlesian party.

“I don’t know if I should be upset that you two noticed before May did,” Winter grumbled softly. “But I didn’t think she liked me back until this morning.”

Fiona tapped her chin thinking back on their years together. “Honestly… I didn’t either. You? You were so obvious! The morning routines with the hair, how protective you were over her!” The pair might have edged each other to the extremes but that also meant they were always softer and much more relaxed when together.

“I have been hinting at it when since we were young,” Winter confessed. All the Mantle rats flinched. Joanna ran a hand through her hair, messing up the gel the Marigold styled it with.

“Well of course May don’t realize it!” Joanna said with an annoyed sigh. “You’ve been giving her mix signals-”

"How was this morning mixed signals?!" Winter hissed with a deepening blush.

“Just tell her,” Robyn said waving her hand.

“Tell who what?” May asked rounding the corner of bushes with another tray of food. “Klein wanted to make Fiona’s favorite since we haven’t snuck back in awhile.”

“Yes!” Fiona cheered taking the tray of fruits and sweets, strawberries covered in chocolates to fluffy cream stuffed puff. After throwing one in her mouth she teasingly dangled one in front of Robyn’s face. The women rolled her eyes, taking a bite of the strawberry and watching as Fiona finished it off.

May sneered, “Glad I haven’t missed much.”

“They’re trying to convince me to tell you about my undying love for you,” Winter said, in her default tightly controlled and dry tone. Before anyone could act surprised May threw her head back and laughed so hard her face went a little red.

“Yeah! Do it after Weiss’ performance.” May said with a bratty cute grin. Fiona tensed, a smile plastered to her face as she tried not to scream. Damn it May! “Announce our engagement so your father and my cousin can die of a heart attack!” She bent down, taking Winter’s hands and gently pulling her up, “Come on! Show’s starting soon and Silvio wouldn’t shut up about us grabbing front row seats.”

Within a few minutes the the theater was full and the lights dimmed to darkness. Fiona looked around. Her eyes spotting most of the military in the booths above the crowd. Goodwitch sitting irritably next to General Ironwood. Across from them senior Clover Ebi was sitting next to the freshmen Marrow. The other Faunus was busy looking around the theater too, a determine look on his face.

“There’s a lot of Atlas students here…” Fiona whispered a little uneasily.

“We do have two Atlesian scientist and the one visiting from Vale with his family,” Robyn said. Fiona looked back up the balconies. Sure enough she spotted the Vale scientist with his Faunus wife and daughter.

Unfortunately due to May and Robyn’s hassling each other, they didn’t get center seats, but from this angle Fiona was able to see just behind the curtains. At the side of the stage was a hooded figure in robs… Weiss next to them with Silvio a little ways off. Fiona strained her ears but it was too far.

The hooded not-Schnee figure took the center of the stage and from his Scroll Silvo activated the music. A slow piano piece fitting for the rich audience. Slowly the stage lights turned on, letting Fiona’s sensitive eyes adjust while gradually getting brighter for the humans to see, piano growing louder, picking up tempo.

“You are an ocean of waves, weaving a dream like thoughts, become a river stream,” the mysterious stranger sang. Her voice was lower than Weiss. A shock mummer spread across the crowd but the opening act wasn’t phased even as Fiona watched the military in the booths grow a little tense. They only relaxed when they realized another voice would join occasionally, Weiss standing beside Silvio, harmonizing into her mic. “Yet may the tide every change, flowing like time to the path, yours to climb.”

Fiona turned back to the stage, ears flinching a little whenever the music was too high for her sensitive ears. Whoever the mysterious singer was, she knew how to entertain walking the stage, posing and gesturing to the audience until the easily swayed like Marrow was at the edge of his seat and the reserved ones like Vine was absolutely enthralled. Robyn looked amazed, beautiful lavender eyes wide.

“Thou seek the light with an outstretched hand,” Slowly the opening act’s voice faded. Weiss’ voice growing louder but she hadn’t walked on stage yet, “A divine blade lies before you so command the wake of dreams, to restore the world, cut 'way the seams,”

Then the tempo picked up yet again, a drum encouraging Fiona’s heart into a powerful and steady beat. The mysterious singer reached out the audience, “Join in our prayer, in our song of birthrights and love,” She sang loudly. Weiss’ voice slowly appeared again, matching harmonizing so perfectly it had Fiona’s ears shuttering in pleasure, “Come the sun, illuminate the sky. Pray that we may quell the dark. Light take the throne. Lost in thoughts, all alone.”

Then the lights dimmed, the music slowed to pause. Fiona heard Robyn and Joanna catch their breath next to her. Fiona saw the mysterious singer rush to the side, encouraging Weiss onto the stage. She vigorously shook her head for a moment until Silvio whispered his own words of encouragement, gesturing to where Winter was sitting.

With a huff and a stomp she rushed to her position, the opening act helping her on the left and then rushed to their own position on the right side. It was then she noticed the slight shaking in her hands. As Silvio increased the lighting, Fiona could see the redness in her eyes she missed before.

Poor kid. Still having to preform after the bullshit three adults put her through. Fiona heard Robyn gasp softly, “This is all improved…” she muttered.

The verse repeated but this time the music didn’t slow. The drums became louder, drums and violins filling Fiona with a rush as she listened to every word, “Thou seek the dark with an un-sheathed blade,” Weiss’ voice was beautiful, it sent chills down her spine and the haunting familiarity of her assistant pulled everyone in like it was story, “Now a white ivory throne beckons so obtain the fate you sow on this path be wary friend and foe.”

The way they moved on stage, circling each other or stepping close and matching their steps was almost poetic. “May thy chosen path lead way, and grace you with virtue but surely balance awaits,” Slowly Weiss took the lead, the opening act smiling as Weiss’ hands stopped shaking. She looked directly at her sister in the front row, “So be it bliss or pain you gain beyond the route-way’s end. You’ll gain resilience and weakness. The trials, the thorn in your side becomes the greatest strength, in you.”

The song was a message to her sister, Fiona realized with a happy smile. She looked at the older Schnee. Winter looked proud. She reached over to her partner, grabbing her hand giving it a thankful squeeze. Fiona glanced at Robyn her own hand feeling stupidly empty. Until she notice Silvio and the hooded singer nodding at each other.

“Descend into the abyss thou see- Hey!” Weiss screamed as she was suddenly shoved into the orchestra pit. One of the musicians threw their instrument aside to catch her. The crowd gasped, all the military huntsmen and students shocked in their seats. The music changed, suddenly blaring through the speakers but the volume wasn’t enough to make Fiona flinch.

“The future is bulletproof the after is secondary!” The opening act sang. Finally the hooded opening act ripped off their hood. Fiona’s mouth hung open as a familiar helmet and gold horns standing on stage. I promise I’ll keep you all out of trouble, Glade said before they left Mantle. “It’s time to do it now and do it loud!”

“Are you serious!?” May screamed in the theater. Fiona looked at her elites. May was almost pulling her hair out and Winter jumped into the orchestra pit to check on her sister. Glade grinned, hard-light ears taking shape and floating above their helmet.

They pointed at May, “Kill joys! Make some noise!”

“Your fucking dead-”

“Na, na, na, na, na!” Glade stomped their feet in time with the rock music. Fiona barely pushed May back into her seat as the military moved in. Thankfully it was the students first. Vine swinging in with his semblance and Elm’s massive thighs launched her off the balcony and towards the stage. But Glade only smiled, never missing a beat, “Drugs, gimme drugs, gimme drugs, I don’t need it but I’ll sell what you got,” The pair was only able to make an entrance. The Dust in Glade’s clothes glowed a bright purple. A low warping sound ran deep in the room. Vine gasp a sudden weight pulling him down with Elm. It was enough force for the pair to crash through the stage.

The crowd sneered and laughed. “Bring what Rat in and they all come,” Someone said behind them. Fiona was pretty sure it was May’s cousin but she wasn’t about to ask the Marigold to check. Fiona only kept watching. Winter had snuck Weiss back behind the curtain and was now glaring at Silvio. It looked like she was trying to lecture them but the kids were smiling, busy watching Marrow clumsily climb onto the stage while Harriet appeared with a trail of lightning behind her.

Fiona laughed at the nervous looking boy, “Come on Marrow!” She cheered. Glade has yet to attack anything sentient and alive so he won’t get his ass beat but humiliation can be just as painful.

“You’re looking good for someone who almost died this morning,” Harriet taunted.

Glade only smirked, “But I’ll take what I want form your heart and I’ll keep it in a bag, in a box, put an X on the floor!” They continued to sing. Glade bounced around, light on their feet and motioned for the pair to come at them, “Gimme more, gimme more, gimme more! Shut up and Sing it with me!”

“Marrow…” Harriet ordered the kid.

Marrow took a deep breath, tail straightening as he concentrated, "Stay!" He hasn’t perfected his semblance yet but Glade’s singing paused, body moving slowly but still moving.

Harriet grinned cracking her knuckles before running forward. Just as she was about to reach them, the gravity Dust glowed bright. Harriet lost her footing but the momentum continued until she crashed into the wall. The audience laughed even harder. Robyn and Joanna roaring next to her.

The poor freshmen couldn’t hold his semblance and dropped it, panting heavily. Just as Clover was about to step onto the stage the lights shut off. Glade reach over, throwing Clover at Marrow. With a sharp whistle a wall of ice rose up, blocking all of Ironwood’s favorite students on stage. Glade ran to the side, grabbing the blind Schnees and Watt and running out of the theater. Before they disappeared they gave Fiona a pointed look.

The little lamb grabbed everyone and ran to the nearest side door. Klein gasped, semblance activating with a small scared sneeze and red eyes was looking at them. “Good, good, I was worried ya’ lot wouldn’t catch on,” Klein smirked, voice gruff and a little aggressive. Fiona giggled, she always like this one the best. “You… I can’t believe you’re in on this too!”

“Don’t blame me lil’ miss,” Klein scowled and growled back up at May, “Originally we were just gonna turn off the lights and sneak Weiss out, but the lil cunt made a friend and well…” Klein gestured to the theater and the loud shouts and yells. Ironwood was demanding the lights be turned back on and the crowd was starting to panic a little, “Best get ya’ out of here, eh? Rides out back, hurry on, now.”

Fiona new the manor well enough to get the group there. Robyn tried to stop laughing. It was a good thing Fiona was still holding her hand because she was sure Robyn would have been several halls behind them. There were other security guards around but they would see a server accidentally stumble into them or slow down the cart of food or equipment.

“I’m glad Weiss is still being look after.” May muttered softly under her breath. That finally got Robyn to stop laughing a sobering smile aimed at her elite.

A chauffeur waited patiently with the door opened for them. Winter didn’t jump, only gave them a small smile while the kids giggled to themselves. May was the only one still furious, “Where’s Glade?”

“They ran off while I was lecturing Weiss and Silvio,” Winter explain. “Said something about, 'How they weren’t paid enough for that,” She finished looking pointedly at the young adopted Watts. “How long have you two been planning this?”

“Sneaking out in the middle of the performance…” Weiss blushed and looked away. “A few… weeks?”

“It was suppose to be during my party but… then… fuck my uncle,” Silvio huffed. The mood died a little but Silvio was still grinning. “It was so worth it.”

“You two should have told me,” Winter said.

“You should come around more often- Ow!” Silvio winced as both May and Weiss punched him.

Winter took it in stride. She closed her eyes, as if concentrating to break the aloof and cool facade. She smiled, gently and earnestly leaning towards her sister and the young genius, “I guess you two will need to fill me. How exactly did two brilliant kids made a fool of the military? Hm?” They both grinned up at her.

May acted like a grump rolling her eyes but leaning heavily into her partner side. Fiona grinned at the scene, ears fluttering happily. Robyn sneered and chuckled, fingers playing with the tips of her ears while Joanna had an arm slung around both their shoulders again.

Fiona hadn’t realized she didn’t let go of Robyn’s hand until she was swinging their joined hands in the elevator. May set the kids up in another suite, talking a little more with the kids. Fiona and Robyn naturally gravitated to the balcony while Winter and Joanna collapsed onto the king sized bed with a deep sigh.

“What a day…”

“I’ll say. Fighting Grimm, sex in the changing room, a picnic and a show,” Joanna teased. The trio blushed hard and Robyn still made no move to pull their hands apart. This time she caught the women glancing at her lips. Fiona tighten her grip, fighting the urge to pull at the loose tie.

“I’m going to live variously through you two again.” Winter said. Fiona nearly jumped and the pair looked at Winter, lounging like a cat next to a bear that was Joanna. The Schnee looked pointedly at their hands, “Just make out already.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Robyn whispered, voice husky and slow. It sent a shiver down Fiona’s spine and she realized the women was quiet for awhile now. Fiona could almost feel just how long Robyn was holding herself back. At first the kiss was desperate and almost vicious. Fiona gasp softly when Robyn bit her lip and her tongue danced against hers. Both of Fiona’s hands was held in Robyn’s against the railing, as if this is how she wanted to take Fiona during their two rounds this morning.

With a dazed heart Fiona followed whatever mood Robyn wanted to give. Meeting her energy as best as possible. The frenzy kiss slowed to a passionate one. Finally Robyn let her hands go and Fiona let them wrap around her neck. The kiss might have slowed but it didn’t die. Fiona only felt the warmth in her chest spread, the cold metal of the rail worth the feeling of Robyn pressed against her.

“There’s no way you’d kiss May like that,” Joanna mumbled next to Winter. “It’d be a lot more sweet and chaste.”

“Shut up,” Winter mumbled softly. Robyn and Fiona broke apart giggling at their banter and at each other. Fiona swallowed trying not to think too much about how she wanted to keep those lavender eyes for longer than their academic years. How Robyn’s sweetness reminded her for her elites or how that Mantle attitude reminded Fiona that she wasn’t alone in their fight.

She didn’t want to fall but Robyn and the others were making it tempting.

Robyn leaned in again but not for a kiss, her nose nuzzled Fiona’s cheek trying to push her head to the right but Fiona fought it for a second and took a deep breath. Lavender and a fresh spring fields filled her nose, clouding her mind in a happy daze and settling her heart into a slow dancing rhythm. When Fiona finally opened her eyes she saw May on the balcony next to them. Face red and gold eyes wide.

“I want to do it right because…” Winter’s soft words floated through the open air. Robyn and Fiona giggled, watching May blush so hard it must have been painful but the smile on her face didn’t make her worry. Instead Fiona pulled gently pulled on that loose tie around Robyn’s neck and pull her down for a kiss.

This kiss was slowest yet. A practiced and gentle dance as Winter continued to speak, “Because I’ve loved her since I can remember.”

#robyn hill #springthyme #rwby #rwby7 #winter schnee #may marigold #fiona thyme #joanna greenleaf #happy huntresses #very happy huntresses #hellbore #Show Your Teeth #very seasoned huntresses

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aethelflaedladyofmercia · 4 years ago

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The Whole Truth - 3

(Chapter 3, and something has started to happen! Read the whole fic on AO3, or ask to be tagged as I post to Tumblr.)

Tuesday

Aziraphale bustled around behind the customer, who had been keeping him from his work all day.

Well, not all day, but for at least forty-five minutes, which was long enough. He had given her several hints to leave, yet she continued to wander about his shop, grabbing up volumes as if this were a common Waterstones.

“Look at this! A first edition, how marvelous.” She hefted the hundred-and-fifty-year-old book, riffling through it excitedly.

“Yes,” Aziraphale reached to take it from her hands. “It took me rather a long time to find, and I’d…”

“The illustrations! Exquisite!”

“Yes, they are very good, if you could just…”

“How much are you asking for this?” She flipped to the front cover, nearly tearing a page in the process.

“More than you’re willing to pay,” he said firmly, relieving her of the book.

“Oh, no, name your price! Money is no object.”

Behind her, a dark shape lurched through the door, hands in his pockets.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, we just closed.” He pushed the clothbound book back onto the shelf and gave her his most courteous smile.

“But I was offering you—”

“I have watched you walk around this shop, madam,” he continued, smile not wavering, “and in my expert opinion, you would take that poor book home and utterly destroy it. Now, please leave, I would like to go and speak to my friend.”

The door locked firmly behind the aghast woman, Aziraphale turned to the demon lounging on his sofa. “New way to chase them off, Angel? You’re rarely so direct.”

“Yes, it does rather take the fun out of it. Tea? Something stronger?”

“Whatever you’re having.”

“After that woman, I don’t think there’s enough brandy in the shop, but I’ll see what I have.” He hurried into the back room, humming happily. He selected a bottle from the corner of the shelf, hidden behind a few others.

“Is that…” Crowley lounged against the doorframe, dark glasses tipped down to reveal the shine of golden eyes. “That’s the Cognac you picked up last time you were in France. You said you were saving it for something special.”

“Did I? Oh.” Aziraphale stared at the bottle, and almost had to force himself to return it to its place. “Yes, I…I’m not really sure what I’m saving it for.” He stared at the rows of bottles, feeling oddly puzzled.

“Just grab that stuff we had last time.” Crowley wandered up behind him. “Look, this one, this was fine.” A dark sleeve reached over Aziraphale’s shoulder and plucked up the half-empty bottle of brandy.

“You would say that, Crowley. With your palate, I could serve olive oil and vinegar and you’d hardly notice.” He reached for the glasses.

“Ooh, what’s gotten into you, Angel?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Aziraphale sat at the little back table, settling himself comfortably while Crowley poured.

“I can always tell when you’re in a bad mood. Bit of cheek and all that. But today,” Crowley set down the bottle and sat across from him, first edges of a grin appearing on his lips, “you’re downright sassy.”

“I’m an angel, my dear fellow, I don’t sass.” He took a sip of the brandy – a little sharper than he liked, probably not aged properly. A little miracle fixed that. “As for my mood, well, you saw that customer.”

“Hmm, yes, how dare she come into a bookshop and expect to buy a book. The nerve.”

“Well exactly.” Aziraphale waved his drink. “It’s probably because I let that young man take home a few paperbacks last month. The word is out now. There’ll be no end to them.”

“That’s a right shame.” Crowley wasn’t even trying to hide that awful smirk now.

Aziraphale set his glass down sharply. “You could try to have a little more sympathy. I’ve only got three and a half days left to decipher that book. I don’t need nuisances. Every moment is critical.”

“Is it?” Crowley’s eyebrows shot up, drawing Aziraphale’s attention to a strand of hair that had broken loose from the gel’s hold. It looked ridiculous, hanging across his face like that. Aziraphale’s fingers itched to tuck it into place. “Well, perhaps I should leave you to it.”

“Oh, nonsense, Crowley, you’re never a nuisance.”

They both leaned back in surprise, Aziraphale taking another sip to try and hide the flush creeping up his face. What on Earth had made him say such a thing?

“You take that back,” Crowley said, sounding mystified.

“I only meant I enjoy talking to you,” Aziraphale found himself elaborating, rather to his horror. “I’m always glad when you show up. It helps me think.”

“Does it now?” Crowley leaned forward, elbow resting on the table, smile on his face predatory in some entirely new way. “Please, go on.”

“I – I – I – that doesn’t mean I have time for small talk.” He finished his glass quickly and stood up. “I need to get to work most urgently. But…er…” He really ought to give Crowley the hint to leave. It seemed a pity – he’d only just arrived – but already things were getting out of hand.

Already Crowley was getting to his feet, disappointment clear in the slump of his shoulders.

“I do…there are some odd diagrams of plant life in this book. I could use your help deciphering them.”

Crowley’s hand shot to his glasses, adjusting them, pressing them against his face. “Are you asking me to help you on an assignment? An actual research assignment from Heaven?”

“I…suppose I am.” Aziraphale caught his hands twisting, and quickly set them to smoothing his waistcoat instead. “I told you, I only have three days, and anything could be a clue. And I know research isn’t - isn’t really what you do, but I would nonetheless appreciate your assistance and —”

Your company. He barely stopped himself from saying the words, but they hung in the air anyway, filling the space between them.

“Angel...”

“You don’t have to stay,” he desperately tried to backpedal. “Especially not if you’re going to—”

“I’ll help.”

Simple as that.

Why was it suddenly so difficult to breathe?

Late in the night, Aziraphale bent over the book again, glasses perched on his nose. He traced his fingers across the strange characters.

There, that looked like – no, it was gone. Surely this word over here had Sanskrit roots…no, he couldn’t make it out. And that one? Looked like a name. A real instinct or a wild guess?

He bent over the book, surrounding himself in the smell of dust and spice.

(Thanks for reading! More around noon EST!)

@black-velvet-roses-tea

#good omens prime #good omens fanfiction #ineffable husbands #aziraphale loves crowley #aziraphale is a bastard #fluff and angst #good omens #crowley #Anthony J. Crowley #crowley loves his angel #ao3 link #ao3 #My writing #current wip #The Whole Truth #AZ Fell's Back Room #bickerflirt

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phagechildon · 5 years ago

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The Greater Good - Chapter 9

It’s been so long since I’ve updated due to personal issues, but I’m finally able to write Hijack again! And due to the long hiatus, this chapter is especially long sitting at around 19,422 words! I know the fandom’s dead but they’re so fun to write! I highly recommend reading on AO3 for a better experience since Tumblr refuses to copy anything that I italicized or bold -_- I didn’t have anyone else edit this for me due to the length and everyone being busy, so I’m sorry for the mistakes! READ ON AO3 - Rated M for Mature due to violence, death, dark and sexual themes

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Fandom: Hijack/Frostcup Story Summary: Jack, unable to handle the dark life he’s living, is now trying to redeem himself by using his skills and demigod powers to protect the innocent. Though he gets more than he bargained for when he meets Hiccup, who unknowingly holds the very fate of the world in his hands.

Last Chapter recap since it’s been a while: With Zootopia overran by Nightmares and half of them being sold into slavery, Hiccup volunteers himself to be captured in order to free the other prisoners. In the meantime, Jack confronts the Nightmares who are attacking the city, only to realize everything is going according to Pitch's plan - a plan to get Hiccup. Quickly resolving the issue, he flys towards the prisoner camp, hoping he isn't too late. However he's unaware that not only are the Nightmares there to capture Hiccup, but so is Callaghan's Army and the Outcasts. Everything's a chaotic mess and poor Hiccup just wants a break.

TW: Mentions of rape and sexual harassment is mentioned throughout this chapter. It gets sorta but not too bad at the part where I added *** . It stops when you see *** again. I added a very brief explanation of what happened at the end in case you want to skip it!

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“Shit-” Jack cursed as he hovered over the burning prisoner camp, the smoke so severe he was forced to use one of his sleeves to cover his mouth. The fire was so intense he couldn’t even see past the smoke and flames. He prayed Hiccup wasn’t down there, but he didn’t dare take a chance. He had to at least take a quick glance around.

Toothless hopped off his shoulder and gave him an agreeing nod. “I’ll go left you go right. We’ll meet on the other side.” Immediately the dragon dove down, Jack following suit. Despite how exhausted he was, he formed a thin yet durable layer of ice around his skin. It only gave him at least three minutes before he’d have to take a brief break, but it was better than nothing.

“Hiccup!!” He called as he landed, his eyes widening as he saw the Mother’s Arms soldiers laying in pools of their own blood. Hiccup wouldn’t resort to such bloodshed, and those wounds weren’t caused by dragons either. The cuts were clearly made by swords. What happened here?

Running further in, his eyes caught sight of men adorning different uniforms. “Callaghan’s army?” He mumbled, even more confused than before. They practically disbanded that army. The fact the few survivors were even here meant they probably tracked them all the way from the Hamada Village. But if Pitch made good on his threat, then that meant the Mother’s Arms, Callaghan’s Army, and the Nightmares were all in the camp with Hiccup as their collective target. He knew Hiccup can handle himself, he trusted him, but against three different armies?

“Hiccup!!” He cried out again just as he passed a Nightmare body, his fearful theory being proven true.

This was his fault. He should’ve realized the string of odd coincidences and connected the dots sooner. This was definitely something only Pitch was capable of. If something happened to Hiccup, he’d never forgive himself.

A rattling cage pulled him out of his thoughts as he looked around for the origin. “Hiccup?!” He instinctively called as he ran faster in the direction of the noise. Of course it was in the area most of the smoke was coming from.

The closer he got the more his eyes burned until he felt himself kick something metal.

Looking down, he saw a medium sized bird cage with a barely conscious chameleon in it.

Strange, he didn’t know Mother Gothel liked pets.

Very gently he picked the cage up and opened it. The small reptile looked at him weakly yet thankfully as it crawled onto Jack’s hand.

“I’ll get you out of here little guy,” he reassured as he dropped the cage, hearing it clank against something soft. Glancing down he saw the body of a rather high ranking Nightmare on the ground judging by the clothes, and beside him drag marks. There was something odd about the drag marks though. He wasn’t sure if he was looking too into it, but he could swear the left side leg was more square than the other, meaning the person who was dragged away could be Hiccup. It was definitely worth checking out.

Jumping up he rose above the smoke, seeing Toothless doing the same. “Over here!” Jack called, the dragon turning and flying towards him. “He was taken, but there’s tracks leading in this direction-” he pointed north. “Let’s get a Terrible Terror.”

----

His body still felt heavy as he slowly became aware of the rattling ground that made his teeth clank together. For a moment, he thought he’d heard Jack’s contagious laughter and soothing hum. Unfortunately he must've been half asleep because all he heard now was the booming laughter of someone he didn’t know.

“To think we’d have a princess to collect a bounty for too - this is our lucky day!”

A princess? Who were they talking about?

“Since she’s got some weird powers, we’ll force them to give us more reward money for our troubles,” Savage said, memories of earlier coming back at once. In an instant he paled, desperately wanting to open his eyes to confirm the horror for himself. His body was heavy though, so, so heavy, not even his eyelids would open. Whatever the Nightmares did to him was still severely affecting him, to the point where he felt his consciousness starting to fade again. This wasn’t like the poison, this was something inherently different. Perhaps it was the spell that made him limb as a doll? Whatever it was, he absolutely hated it.

A small noise rumbled from the back of his throat, but it wasn't audible to others. It was swallowed by a gag in his mouth. Of course they’d gag him, they knew he could call for help.

“Hiccup?” Rapunzel’s voice came over softly. The dragon whisperer didn’t realize how worried he was for her until he heard her voice as he relaxed just a tiny bit. He tried to respond, but all that came out was another soft groan. Oh how he just wanted to scream in frustration.

“You’re hurt - I’ll heal you as soon as I can,” she gently reassured, her voice so soothing he tried to solely concentrate on her. It made being paralyzed slightly more bearable. “They keep talking about hearing lots of horses gaining up on us. If it’s another army, we can use the chaos to escape.”

Escape? He wondered if she was able to get out of her ropes. Considering she was a woman and these were Alvin’s men, they probably didn’t take her seriously.

“I’d take your gag off, but they keep making sure it’s still on, sorry,” she apologized, to which Hiccup merely shook his head, the statement confirming his theory. Maybe the situation wasn’t as hopeless as he thought. Even now he could hear the thundering thuds of more horses gaining on them, making him take a deep breath through his nose.

He couldn’t move, but he wouldn’t be useless.

It felt like an eternity as they waited for something to happen. “Incoming from behind! Get the prisoners out of here!” Savage commanded. “Make sure that gag stays on the boy!”

“Yes sir!” Someone answered as the wagon moved even faster than before. He groaned as he felt his body rattle even harder against the wood, causing even further discomfort.

He still couldn’t move, still couldn’t speak.

“I got this,” Rapunzel said, only making Hiccup feel worse. If something happened and she needed backup - shit. He had to do something.

He heard the ruckus, heard the man gasp in shock, and heard her wrecking havoc. The wagon swayed left and right. He heard her gasp in pain, then rebuttal. Part of him started praying Jack and Toothless would show up with a Terrible Terror to save them - to save Rapunzel.

He heard the sound of horse’s hooves catching up from behind them, heard arrows being notched, Rapunzel cry out in horrific pain -

“Stop!” He cried out behind the gag as he sat up, ignoring the fact he couldn’t even move a few moments ago. His eyes opened and saw red leaving the blond’s shoulder where an arrow was sticking out of it as she continued holding the horse’s reins, trying to prevent them from crashing.

There were four on horseback catching up to them, getting more arrows ready, but Hiccup was faster. He dropped to the ground and rubbed his face against the side of the wagon, the gag being pulled down.

It was all a blur. He let loose a dragon noise, he couldn’t even remember which one.

The enemy let their arrows soar, but they never pierced. Instead they uselessly fell to the ground as Hiccup turned, seeing the riders tossed from his seats as the horses made a mad dash in the opposite direction. He squinted his eyes, trying to see what kind of dragon he summoned only to realize why he couldn’t see anything.

He summoned Changelings, and they were both wild and unpredictable.

His eyes met with Rapuzenl’s weak ones as he desperately shot up, his hand wrapping around the arrow and pulling it out of her shoulder just as the wagon tipped over -

And his world went black once again.

----

The Terrible Terror was struggling, and Jack was trying his best to stay patient. The dragon was obviously trying its best as he caught a few words such as ‘this way’ and ‘shit, why.’ Of course Hiccup taught him some of the curse words, dragons apparently loved using them just like humans.

“There might be a lot of people with them, making his scent harder to make out,” he said as his eyes grew heavy again, threatening to close. Toothless said something, but all he could frustratingly make out was ‘It’s-- if they know--- tracking him,’ which was no help since he couldn’t even make out what he meant.

Toothless groaned himself, knowing the theory may help Jack come up with something useful. They were using a lock of Hiccup’s hair, one of the most powerful forms of tracking material you can use aside from a fingernail yet this Terrible Terror was having a hard time pinning his location, which meant whoever had Hiccup was purposefully covering his scent. Callaghan’s army didn’t seem smart enough to do such a thing and the Nightmares didn’t even know about dragons. The only ones knowledgeable enough would be enemies of Berk itself.

Guess it didn’t matter if Jack was aware of this. This half human would stop at nothing to secure Hiccup, and that was just fine with Toothless.

However, he might have to force the demigod to take a break. He was looking even paler than usual; there was hardly any color left in his face. The stupid human hadn’t rest despite dispelling so much energy during the Nightmare attack on the city.

The sound of clinking metal made Jack tiredly look down, spotting a man and women surrounded by six people from the Nightmares. As worried as he was for Hiccup, he couldn’t ignore people in need.

Cursing under his breath, he instructed the Terrible Terror to stop as he dropped out of the sky. The two humans saw him at the corner of their eyes and gasped as he slammed into the ground, ice shooting out and hitting two of the men. Slowly he got to his feet, his staff forming in his hands as the little chameleon from earlier peeked out of his shoulder, shivering as Jack’s body heat left him.

“Stall me all you want Pitch, but I’ll save him,” he hissed, using the wind to quickly zip between the enemies and tap their chests with his staff. All at once they all fell, their hearts and lungs frozen over.

Merciless, but he was in no mood to think about it. Pitch was trying to take the one person who made him feel human and wanted for the first time in a long time. Of course he was in a fowl mood.

“Wow, where were you like, six minutes ago?” The brown haired man with a goatee laughed as he put his sword away. Jack blearingly looked over at him, cursing under his breath as his vision started going in and out. The women behind him with short black hair kept her sword out in alert, something he could respect.

“You guys… alright?” He took a step forward, the world moving around him before fading to black.

----

The floor was moving - it was galloping. His chest and ribs ached, his stomach unsettled. If he had eaten recently he probably would’ve thrown it up. Trying to adjust his position, he found, once again, he was tied up. This time he felt ropes around his arms and foot, a single rope connecting them so he couldn’t fall off the horse without getting trampled.

Perfect, just perfect. Whoever had him now didn’t seem to care about his safety much.

“Slow down, she’s starting to slip again,” he heard a man say. On queue he felt the horse slowing down, the decrease in speed only seeming to make the pain in his chest worse. “Let’s stop and change her bandages, Corona won’t pay for a dead princess.”

Bandages? Did that mean Rapunzel was okay?

The horses came to a stop. He felt someone shift the saddle he was draped against before someone landed somewhat lightly on the ground, confirming one thing. These weren’t the Outcasts. Their speech wasn’t harsh and they didn’t wear heavy armor, meaning they were probably captured by Callaghan’s army. Better than the Nightmares at least.

“What about the Dragon Conqueror?” Hiccup flinched. He hated that nickname.

“Cut him down, but don’t let him out of your sight. He should be waking up soon and we can’t risk him calling for help.”

“Uh… who would he even call out for?” He heard another ask as he too got off his horse.

“Who do you think called for those Changelings back there, hm? Those brutes?”

“Oh… guess you’re right.” The man replied. “I’ll do it then.” He heard someone approach him and tighten the gag around his mouth, making him aware of the rough cloth that was also shoved into his mouth to help prevent any kind of sound from leaving him at all. They were being thorough, unfortunately for him. Luckily for him, they weren’t too bright, he just had to wait for the right moment.

The middle rope was severed, allowing his numb arms and leg to finally separate. Like a rag doll the man pulled him off the horse, not caring as Hiccup’s legs hit the ground hard. Swallowing his pained groan, he felt the man drag him at least six paces away before dropping him.

“H-he’s hurt,” Rapunzel’s sweet voice rang, easing the dragon whisperer’s heart a bit. “Please… be gentle.”

“I’d worry more about yourself,” he heard a man snicker darkly, making Hiccup's eyebrows burrow in anger. “After all, we still have time before we get to Corona, and these nights get awfully cold.”

Oh hell no. No one spoke to someone like that and got away with it. Hesitantly he opened his eyes slightly, realizing he wasn’t blindfolded. They were in a forest of sorts with no river nearby, but that was fine. Gazing around camp, he saw around six men, all of which were watching what seemed to be the leader trying to intimidate Rapunzel who was just giving him death glares. The poor guy had no clue she could probably take half of them at once with her hair alone, but their diverted attention only made this easier.

His body still felt oddly heavy, but nothing compared to earlier. Wiggling his fingers, he pressed them to the dirt hoping to find something sharp to use.

“It’s futile,” he heard a voice say, making him freeze immediately. “Whether you get out of those bonds or not, you’re just gonna get captured again.” This voice… didn’t belong to one of Callaghan’s men. The sheer tone alone made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, unnerving him. This cold empty despair - could it really be someone from the Nightmares?

“Looks like you are smart after all,” the voice chuckled, but he heard no footsteps and saw no one. “I’d save your strength, you’re going to need it where you’re going.”

The response only egged him on, wanting to prove the voice wrong. It must be part of the stupid shadow that attached itself to him, he realized as he searched with his fingers more until they brushed something smooth and cold like metal. The quality didn’t feel the greatest, but the fact he found metal was so astounding he decided not to question it as he maneuvered it between his fingers a bit, making it press against the ropes.

He looked over at the men, seeing them getting closer to Rapunzel who only looked more agitated than before - so did the men. She probably said something to upset them, he realized.

He had to hurry.

A cramp coursed through his hand, nearly making him drop the metal. Cursing under his breath he worked past it as Rapunzel’s and his eyes met. Somehow he knew she was saying it was time to go and got ready to sit up in an attempt to help. He had no clue what she had in mind and hoped she had some sort of plan.

“Once I start, I can’t stop. If you touch, it’s your own fault,” she seethed in warning. The men only laughed as they came forward, making her close her eyes. “Wither and decay-” her eyes snapped open, the entirety of her eyes turning completely black. All the light seemed to be sucked away in the area as the horses immediately ran away, making the men nervously go silent. “End this destiny-” her long beautiful golden hair started wilting to black, the ropes around her wrists and legs dissolving into nothing. The grass and vegetation around her even started to wilt before dying within the matter of seconds. “Break these earthly chains, and set the spirit free.”

“Wh-what?!” The men gasped as they took a step back seeing the dying grass getting closer to them. “T-the hell is this?!”

“Set the spirit free.”

The sight was horrifying, but only urged him to work even faster. By the time she started saying it again he felt the rope budge and quickly pulled his wrists free. Knowing that probably made a sound he quickly sat up and pulled the rope off his his good leg, allowing the rest to dangle for now as the men turned.

“Shit, get him!”

Seeing all six men turn their attention to him, Hiccup quickly pulled the gag off and coughed out the second half. Tossing it, he hit the closest man in the face before he got up on his good leg. None of them came at him with swords, meaning they wanted him alive.

Why didn’t that make him feel any better about their situation?

One made a grab for him, to which he quickly side stepped and pushed the off balanced man to the ground. The attack made Rapunzel gasp as she said the incantation even louder, a horrible crunching noise making them all look to the ground as vines started rising out of the ground, their lush green color turning ashen black.

The men all stopped their attack as their faces paled, seeing the looming dark shadow wash over where they were standing.

With sharp gasps of fear they ran, forgetting about Hiccup and their gear. Honestly the dragon whisperer was just as nervous as he looked up to Rapunzel, feeling as if the soles of his shoes were getting thinner.

“Rapunzel?” He hesitantly called out. She finished the verse only to instantly collapse. The pure black strands slowly became golden again as she groaned. Instantly he hopped over, kneeling over her, afraid to touch her. “Rapunzel, are you okay?”

She opened her eyes a bit, seemingly drained. “Yeah… sorry about that,” she whispered. Very carefully Hiccup helped her sit up, that dark aura gone. He glanced at her shoulder wound, seeing the bandages turn a bit pink. The fall probably opened it again.

He reached forward, but stopped, recalling the disgusting things those pigs were saying. “Your wound-” the blond looked down, seeing the pink and groaned.

“I… can heal it, just, give me a minute,” she breathed, to which he nodded, respecting her space. For now he needed to find something to make a temporary prosthetic out of. Luckily one of them left their bag. Rummaging through it, he found some rope, bandages, and a knife, all of which were pretty useful.

“Maybe this means our luck’s starting to turn around.”

It took a few minutes, but he managed to make a prosthetic out of a rather chunky piece of wood and the other materials he found. In the meantime Rapunzel healed her wound and even healed a few of Hiccup’s.

“So… your hair,” Hiccup started as the glow left the golden strands. “Is there a story behind it?” Rapunzel couldn’t help but smile a bit nervously as she avoided eye contact, meaning it probably wasn’t a happy memory. “You don’t have to - I get it,” the dragon whisperer quickly stammered. “I just think it’s cool, even the darker side of it.”

The blond looked up at him in shock, which made Hiccup look away uneasily. Was that something weird to say? He wasn’t good at talking to normal people it seemed. Then again she wasn’t exactly normal. “I-I just think having both restoration and destruction seems very balanced and probably hard to maintain yet you seem to do a pretty good job-” Rapunzel’s laugh was his queue to shut up, more than thankful she put him out of his awkward misery.

“You’re the first person to call that side of me cool,” she said, obviously amused. The shyness from earlier seemed to disappear as she stood, her shoulder completely healed.

Thank goodness.

“I think it is,” Hiccup said again, this time more confidently as he sat back down and undid the makeshift prosthetic, folding the cloth up a bit more in hopes of making it slightly more comfortable before they started walking. “Sure it destroys things, and can probably severely hurt someone, but that power can sometimes be more of a blessing than healing.” He glanced up as Rapunzel rose a confused eyebrow, thankfully not seeming offended, so he continued. “Just look what you did for us. Healing wouldn’t have driven those men away - trust me, I know how stubborn they are,” he said, sounding annoyed and exhausted, which only made Rapunzel giggle again. “And if you’re ever trapped you can use that to literally ‘escape your earthly chains,’ so long as you’re the only one there.”

The princess gently tucked some hair behind her ear as she shifted her gaze to the ground, seeming to agree. “Yeah… I have used it for some instances similar to that. I was even able to save one of my friend’s dad. But you,” she said, her curious eyes moving back to him, excitement seeming to gleam off her. “You called those Changelings, didn’t you? The soldiers from both camps made it law to keep you gagged!” This time Hiccup’s demeanor changed, knowing there was no hiding it from her.

Was it really okay for him to be out here and not on Berk where he could keep the dragon’s secrets safe? More and more people were learning about the connection humans could have with dragons. Part of him couldn’t be happier as it was always his dream to see the two living in harmony. Yet the rational part of him knew that was also incredibly dangerous. Even if he felt like a prisoner on Berk, maybe… maybe it was for the best.

“Hiccup?” Rapunzel asked, snapping him back into reality. She was in front of him now, looking really concerned. He could trust her, he knew that as an absolute certainty. Yet as he opened his mouth, something stopped him - a chilling realization.

Someone was speaking to him earlier, someone from the Nightmares.

“Shhh,” he quickly hushed, going on full alert. Sensing his uneasiness, she grabbed a handful of hair and cautiously looked around as well. “Someone was talking to me earlier, someone I couldn’t see.”

“What? Who?” She gasped, confused.

“Someone from the Nightmares,” he glowered, hearing approaching hooves from nearly every direction.

Shit - they wasted too much time gathering themselves.

As much as he hated to rely on dragons he didn’t know how to fully train, Changelings were their only chance to ‘disappear’ for a while. Letting out a changeling call, he grabbed Rapunzel’s wrist and ran in the only direction he couldn’t really hear a horse approaching. Of course that didn’t mean anything.

“I know it’s probably hard to trust someone you just met, but if we want to avoid being captured again , you have to do what I say.”

Cold - it was starting to get so, so cold.

Shit. Were they Nightmare soldiers? If so, he couldn’t let them snuff out her light. In fact, he refused to let that happen.

Reaching around his neck, he pulled the ticking thing necklace off and held it out to her. “Here, take this-” he said, watching her grab it with a confused look. “Keep it safely around your neck. All you have to do is imagine someone or a place you want to see, and it’ll guide you there. If we get separated, I want you to use that to get home.”

Her head shot up after processing the words, looking hurt yet determined. “What? Separated? I’m not going to leave you - we’re gonna get through this together!”

But she had no clue what they were up against.

Something pulled the cloth free that was wedged between his limb and the half assed clump of wood on the makeshift prosthetic, making him groan in immense discomfort.

The horses hooves grew even closer, the sound of men commanding them to go even faster now audible.

“I’ll be okay, I have someone coming for me, remember?” He said, taking a deep breath he pictured Jack with one of his signature stupid grins as he felt something start tugging on the rope that bound the lump of wood to his limp. “If I can’t get out of this mess myself, I know he’ll save me. I believe in him.”

The trees, he could hear the leaves shake and tremble as something swooped over them, nearing them from behind. “Protect her, I beg of you!” He cried in dragonese. With all his strength, he stopped running and swung Rapunzel forward. With a cry she catapulted forward, losing her footing before she just - vanished. The trees screamed in agony as something pulled upward, barely missing them.

For just a moment Hiccup let out a choked laugh, not believing that worked as he turned, feeling the rope pulled free.

He couldn’t move, and that was okay.

As much as he wanted to disappear with Rapunzel, he had a feeling that wouldn't be wise. What happened back at the Mother’s Arms Camp, whatever that Nightmare did to him, he felt it somehow bound a Nightmare to him. If he himself accepted help from a dragon, the Nightmares would know, and that was something he couldn't risk.

“Okay, if that’s how you wanna play,” he grumbled as he quickly reached down and picked up the rope, retying it. The horses slowly came to a stop all around him as he stood back up, grabbing a rather strong stick that was at his feet. His breath caught in his throat as the soldiers weren’t wearing Nightmare robes, no, these were uniforms he’s never seen before. The base color was black with everything outlined blue - even the helmets. Red stripes were coming up from the chest plate, boots, and even the shoulder blades.

One of them with long black hair made their horse take a step forward, his posture straightening into one of authority. “You’re a hard one to get a hold of, but nonetheless, you are now property of Claude Frollo of the Josas Kingdom.”

Hiccup couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow as he let out a small laugh. “Property? Sorry, I’m no one’s property.”

The man’s glassy gray eyes narrowed, unamused. “You were stripped of your freedom when the Mother’s Arms healed then sold you. You are nothing but a tool and object in which our King will give you purpose.” Hiccup’s eyes widened, recalling something Mother Gothel said to him:

“Selling you to the Nightmares means you won’t have your free will for long, and selling you to Callaghan’s army means they’ll slaughter you considering the way they were talking. The other group of people are barbaric ruffians,” she tisked, her eyes narrowing. “I rarely like to work with their kind. However, I could sell you to the sex-crazed Warlord who’s taken a liking to your description, you’d at least stay alive with him.” The dragon whisperer couldn’t help but groan, feeling disgusted. These must be men who worked for that sex crazed warlord she mentioned. As horrifying as the revelation is, that meant that they really did not have a kingdom, and this man wasn’t really a King.

He could still get out of this.

“I have my own purpose in life, and it’s not to bemuse your master,” he growled as he swung the stick around, picking up momentum and getting in a fighting stance.

Eight armed soldiers against a cursed one legged viking with a stick for self defense - there’s been worse odds.

“Don’t struggle, our Lord prefers his toys undamaged.” The leader looked up to where Rapunzel disappeared, his eyes narrowing. “Where’d the girl go?”

So they were interested in her too - thank gods he got her out of here. “I donno, her hair starting glowing again and she just vanished.” He simply shrugged.

The man frowned more, seeming annoyed. “Don’t worry, our Lord has a way of making people talk. Now, fetch.”

The other men, still on their horses, moved forward, making him curse. One of them was getting a net, another was loading a dart in some kind of paper looking straw.

First thing first, he had to get rid of the horses. If there was one dragon call he knew that scared animals on land, it was the call of a dragon that burrowed deep into the ground. Hopefully there weren’t any nearby that could hear him. According to his observations so far, there were none.

Hopefully.

Taking a deep breath, he let it loose. In an instant the horses bucked in fright, the net falling from the man’s hands along with the dart in the others as the horses all ran. Some of the riders stayed on, four fell on their backs.

Goodie, the numbers were literally halved. Without wasting a beat, he leaped forward and kicked the helmet off the soldier nearest to him. Dazed, the soldier did nothing as he smacked him hard on the side of the face, knocking him out cold. A crunch from the stick made him bite his bottom lip nervously.

Three more to go - he could do this as long as the Nightmare left his prosthetic alone.

Picking up a few rocks, he threw one at a soldier near him, hitting the helmet hard. The man gasped as he quickly took it off, trying to silence the horrible ringing that started giving him horrible tinnitus. Swinging the staff around to gain momentum, he swiped it under the man’s legs, making the man fall right back on his back. A blur of motion to his right made him gasp as he swung up, deflecting the man’s staff from hitting him as he side kicked the other man in the head, hoping it knocked him out. He didn’t have time to check as he parried another strike that tried to trip him, slamming his own stick into the other man’s knees. With a yelp he fell to one knee, giving Hiccup an opportunity to hit him in the jugular.

With a choked gasp the man fell back, the wound bleeding a bit. He wasn’t dead, just unconscious thankfully as he picked up the staff the soldier was wielding and growled, finding it rather heavy. Realizing it would only slow him down, he dropped it and stared at the last man, the leader of the group, glowering at his laughing face.

“Who would’ve thought a defected tool like you had this much fight in them,” he smirked, obviously finding Hiccup’s offended face amusing.

“I’m resourceful, not defective,” Hiccup barked back, twirling the stick to gain some momentum. A crack made him wince slightly as he saw the first few inches cave, hanging onto the rest of the stick by a few strands. The man only seemed to chuckle at the image, obviously amused.

“Even your resourcefulness is defective, it would seem,” he said as he stood up straight, no longer in a fighting stance. It only angered Hiccup more. “Maybe he’ll make you a more useful tool after I give him the retrieval report.”

The dragon whisperer opened his mouth just as he felt something prick the back of his neck. Cursing under his breath he glanced behind him, seeing two men on foot with skid marks on their faces from falling from their horses a little further up. They were all glowering darkly at him. One of them still had the straw from where they shot the dart.

He still had some time.

Turning to the leader, he charged. The man merely chuckled as he took out a staff and blocked Hiccup’s swing, letting Hiccup press against him so their faces were a few inches apart. “Still fighting even though it’s hopeless?” He asked with a softening smirk. “You can feel it, can’t you? The way your head fogs over, the way your limbs start to get so heavy all you want to do is just, collapse-” he pushed heavily against Hiccup’s stick, the branch finally snapping in half. With a cry Hiccup stumbled back on his bottom, feeling the world spinning.

Shit - shit shit - not like this!

“If it’s any consolation, you’re the most challenging adversary we’ve had in a long time,” the leader said as he loomed over him. Hiccup bared his teeth as he closed his eyes and rolled forward between the man's legs. He nearly threw up, but the adrenaline kept him going.

With a surprised gasp the man turned just as Hiccup stumbled to his feet. With a loud roar of defiance, Hiccup swung one of the broken pieces of the staff against the man’s face. With a cry the man took a step back as Hiccup saw a little bit of red form on the man’s cheek as he regained his balance despite the way his eyes swam. There were three of them - no, there was only one of them, and he was rubbing the back of his hand against a rather deep scratch he made across his right left cheek.

Another prick - this time he felt it on the front of his neck as he groaned, feeling the liquid poor into him as he stumbled back like a drunkard. Shakingly he reached up and pulled the needle out, clenching it tightly in his hand with the pieces of his broken stick.

“Don’t worry defective tool, I forgive you for that,” the leader said, though he seemed less amused than before. “We’ll teach you the proper way.”

His eyes swam even more as his limbs started to shake. He didn’t want it to end here, he could handle this, he knew he could!

His good knee collapsed, forcing him to fall to one knee. Okay, maybe he couldn’t… for now at least. He wouldn't give up, he’d never give up.

‘I… believe in you, Jack,’ he mumbled as his world fell to black.

----

It’s cold, that’s the first thought that came to mind as he felt himself stir. Instantly he started to shiver, but it didn’t seem to matter. No cloth was brushing against his skin, making him blanch. He didn’t have any clothes on? And this smell - it was sickeningly sweet, it made it hard to think as his eyes slowly fluttered open. He was in a dimly lit room that oddly felt humid and smelled like weird oils. Then again, the sweet smell in the air made it hard to decipher what exactly he was smelling, let alone pinpoint where it was coming from.

Drugs, he realized after a frustrating moment. That sweet smell was probably some kind of drug that made it hard to think, let alone move.

Great. Just great.

Trying to move his arms, he groaned, feeling them numbly above him in chains. It was taking everything he had not to start coming to conclusions and panicking. If he succumbed to fear, it’d be over.

Taking a few deep shuddering breaths, he tried clearing his mind.

“They haven’t used you - yet,” he heard the same voice from earlier say, making him growl.

Oh right, with everything going on he forgot a Nightmare was attached to him. Wasn’t he lucky?

“Who are you?” He managed to slur out, hating how pathetic his voice sounded like this.

“Does that really matter?” The voice asked back. “The more important question is how are you going to get out of this mess?”

“You’re the reason I’m in it,” Hiccup barked back bitterly. “If you hadn’t touched my prosthetic-”

“You wouldn’t know the truth,” the voice finished for him, making the dragon whisperer roll his eyes.

“Oh yeah sure, what truth, hm? Enlighten me, oh messenger of dark despair,” he mocked.

The voice was silent for a moment before it hummed. “That’s a new one, I kind of like it. It fits quite well considering my message will bring you despair.”

“Oh, shocking,” Hiccup sarcastically remarked. “Try giving your message to someone who believes what you say.” Pulling on the chains, he groaned, not even sure why he tried. Metal, duh, it wouldn’t break that way. Damn the drugs messing with his usually logical brain.

“I had you captured so you could learn the truth the hard way,” the voice merely said. “Don’t worry, you aren’t in any danger. At any point in time, all you have to do is ask for help, and I’ll stop this - I’ll stop all of them.”

Hiccup’s eyebrows furrowed in suspicion, not understanding the other at all. Why would a Nightmare subject him to such a horrific situation, then claim to save him if he asked? It didn’t make any sense. “What truth are you talking about?” The dragon whisperer cautiously asked, knowing he was probably walking right into a trap.

The room grew even dimmer as the shadows started dancing along the walls. Hiccup had to squint his tainted eyesight as a figure started to hazily form. It was a tall man with gray skin and piercing yellow eyes with pitch black hair spiked upwards adorning a black robe that seemed to be made of shadows. For some reason the very sight of him made his heart beat faster in his chest as all his fears started intensifying.

What if he was already used? What if he was turned into a doll for someone else's enjoyment? What if he wasn’t strong enough and gave away all his dragon knowledge?

What if Jack gave up on him? - No, no he shut those thoughts down immediately before even more surfaced, making him glower at the shadow man infront of him. Whoever this was, they were powerful, maybe even more powerful than the Last Quarter Rank. But that would mean-

“You know what’s amusing?” The voice chimed in, cutting his thoughts off there. “Typically when someone is poisoned, I’m able to peer into their mind and form their Nightmares. But you - you’re different,” he said, the revelation slow yet horrifying. “No matter what I tried, you formed your own nightmares - nightmares I couldn’t even see. When you were conscious, I couldn’t even penetrate that thick skull of yours.”

Hiccup felt his breath catch in his throat.

He knew who this was.

“You even manage to break through my General’s influence and move when you were captured by the Mother’s Arms. Even though he was present to everyone else, you should’ve been frozen in place. Yet you weren’t.” His eyes narrowed. “Even after I had one of my men pour my influence into you, all it did was render you unconscious. Yet even in that state I couldn’t get so much as a glimpse of your dreams.” He came over to him, gently cupping his chin in his cold hand. “And why is that, hm? What makes you so special? I realized Jackson must’ve noticed this, after all, why else would he keep someone like you around?” His eyes softened into something darker, something that made him uneasy as the demon gently started moving his thumb against his freckled cheek. “Aside from being easy on the eyes, what stopped him from sending you away like he does to all the others?”

With a growl Hiccup yanked his head back, pulling free from the demigods grip. Pitch merely snorted as Hiccup felt rough cold fingertips against his bare sides, making his eyes widen in both fear and anger.

“Don’t touch me-”

“Don’t worry, I’ve already been inside you, remember what I said earlier?” He smirked, making Hiccup feel both disgusted and violated. He didn’t want to think of being filled with dark influence in that way. “Besides, as I said, I’m here to help you realize the truth, that there’s something different about you, and that’s the only reason Jackson’s keep you around.”

“Don’t call him that,” Hiccup snapped as he used all his strength to swing his body slightly backwards in an attempt to get away from his touch. The demigod merely smirked, seeming amused as he took a steps away, bringing his hands back to himself.

“Jackson senses something off about you too, and knowing his curious nature, he wants to figure out what it is-”

“If you’re trying to make me turn my back on Jack, you’re wasting your breath,” he snapped, not wanting to hear it. “Nothing you say will change my mind about him.”

Pitch curled his lip before letting out a short laugh. “Oh, trust me, I’ve seen how stupidly stubborn you can be,” he said as he started circling him. “No-” Hiccup felt his breath hitch as those lips were at his ear, that hot breath making him want to kick him in the family jewel. “I’m just showing you that Jack is scared of you.”

Those forest green eyes couldn’t help but widen in shock at the statement, unable to help it as he spoke his thought out loud: “Scared… of me?”

No, that wasn’t possible.

“Like I said,” Pitch said as he swung around to face him again. “Not even I, who is stronger than Jack, can read or control you, no matter how hard I try.” Holding a hand out, black sand swirled out and formed a horse. “Not even with this.”

Fear thundered in his chest as he tried to fight it. Of course it didn’t matter. There was nothing he could do as Pitch pressed it to his chest. His entire body went numbly cold, his eyesight fading in and out - but only for a moment.

“Say you hate Jackson, now ,” the demigod ordered, his voice full of power. Numbly Hiccup stared at the black horse that looked like a tattoo on his chest as he waited to feel his lips move.

But nothing happened.

“I can’t even read your thoughts right now, and I’m the leader and source of power for the Nightmares,” Pitch said bitterly as he waved his hand. The horse tattoo dissolved into black sand that fell uselessly to the ground, allowing Hiccup to let out a relieved yet confused breath.

That… didn’t make any sense. There was nothing special about him - he didn’t even have a god parent! He was just a typical human being!

Pitch came close again, his hand once again gripping him by the chin. “What makes you so special, Hiccup Haddock?”

He… didn't know. It made no sense - Pitch wasn’t making any sense! Jack never said he was scared of him, in fact, he always seemed scared for him. Unless… that’s why he tried so hard to make him go back to Berk in the first place…?

“You don’t know either, do you?” Pitch asked as he tilted his head up him. “They’re coming.” He glanced back at what seemed to be a door a little bit aways, but it was too dark to really see clearly. “They bathed you, took measurements, examinations, then lathered you in lotions and oils.” Hiccup’s eyes widened in horror, desperately trying not to imagine so many people touching and violating his body. “They’re probably either gonna dress you up for their so called Lord, or he’s coming to see you in your natural state to decide your fate. But don’t worry, what I said before still stands.” His thumb gently started rubbing his cheek again, feeling the freckled one trembling a bit in fear and uncertainty. “When you finally realize Jack won’t save you, just call for me, and I’ll stop them in their tracks.”

That again - that’s the part he didn’t understand. “What do you have to gain from this? I could just ask for help without giving up on Jack - you can’t see into my thoughts.”

“True,” Pitch chuckled, seeming amused. “But when I step in to help, no one lives except you.” Hiccup’s eyes widened in shock, realizing what he meant.

If he asked for help, Pitch would kill everyone, including the innocent people here. “I’d never ask for your help, no matter what!” Hiccup snapped, which only made Pitch tisk.

“Oh Hiccup, how naive you are about the world. These people are even worse than me. You see, their methods are… invasive in a different way, and the others you call innocent? They’re all looking out for themselves, and will do anything to save their own skin. And I mean, anything .” Slowly he stood up straight and let go of his chin. “You’ll see how the world really is, my dear Hiccup. I’m just a call away.”

The door slammed open, and in that instant Pitch was gone. Glancing up, he saw a few people dressed in expensive colorful silks carrying various accessories and delicate fabrics.

“He’s awake!” He heard a woman gasp. “Do it, quickly! They say he’s aggressive!”

“I’m not-” he coughed out as the sweet scent got more intense. The effects were nearly instant as the world got hazier. In the dim flickering candle light, he barely made out women who now had masks over their faces as they cautiously approached him, a few staying by an odd banal plant by the door.

Their hands were brushing his skin, making him want to snap at them to stop, but not so much as a groan left his lips.

“-many freckles, how strange-”

“No, how glorious!”

“Thin, some muscle but not intruding at all-”

“He’s rather feminine, like some of the female warriors.”

“And his hair, it’s brown yet sparkles red!”

“Too bad there’s a scar on his chin-”

“And that he’s... defective.”

Defective… were they talking about his leg? That didn’t make him defective, he was still capable without it!

Hands were on his hips, so many hands-

He tried to move, tried to tell them to back off, but his body wouldn’t respond. He lay limbless as they continued. Like this, he couldn't even start hyperventilating, the drug was keeping his body too calm. Even when he heard a loud thud and a battle cry a little bit aways, his body remained calm.

‘Relax… you can handle this,’ he shuddered to himself. ‘You just have to hold out until Jack gets here.’

It felt like an eternity, but those hands left him as they all went silent. Did they finally leave?

“What… a fine shell,” he heard an older voice muster. “The red matches his rare hair well, I can see why you had trouble picking between red and green, they both suit him well. Though the green would really make these exquisite freckles pop even under the veils-” Hiccup wanted to stiffen as he felt a cold hand brush against his belly button, though the drugs prevented him from doing so. “And the gold really brings out the color of his skin! Like this, he looks like a phoenix taking human form!”

A phoenix… really? That was something he definitely thought he’d never be compared to. Guess it was better than some other animals.

“These emerald jewels are really fine touches-” fingers forced one of his eyes open, his blurry vision making it hard to see the man’s features. “What a fine green! Yes, these jewels are perfect - he’s perfect!”

“Lord Follo, if I may interrupt,” the leader from the ambush said, making anger rise within Hiccup. Of course he was here. “Though I can see you’re quite excited to lay with this defect, may I remind you he took out the me and the scouts nearly single handedly? It’s too dangerous to let your desire rush things. If anything were to happen to you…”

“Your concern touches me, just as I desire to touch him-” those hands were holding his sides, those rough fingers running up and down them. They didn’t stop there though, they traveled further down to caress his ass The dragon whisperer willed with all his might to move - to speak - to do anything to retaliate.

But nothing - absolutely nothing worked.

‘Don’t freak out, there’s still a chance - there’s still time!’ Hiccup tried to reassure himself.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed since everything happened, but surely Jack was almost here. The demigod would never let something so horrific happen to him just as he wouldn’t let anything like this happen to him.

“-in your care until he’s properly trained,” the man said as Hiccup slowly tuned back into the world. “But I don’t want his body too damaged. Only do harm that can heal, no more defects on him, got it?”

“Yes sir, as you wish.”

“How naive of the Lord,” he heard Pitch say. No one else reacted, meaning he was the only one who could hear him. “That man just wants you for himself. I give it until tonight before he takes his turn with you.” He chuckled into his ear, making Hiccup squeeze his eyes tightly shut.

That won’t happen. Jack was going to save him, he was sure of it.

----

It felt like only moments after he fell that the world started coming back to the demigod.

“-don’t have time to babysit!” A female voice muffly yelled, obviously annoyed.

“I know but you’re forgetting two major factors!” The male’s voice from earlier hollered back, seeming just as annoyed. “One, this guy saved Pascal, he might have some information, and two, he’s a demigod, Cassandra, a demi- GOD . I know we’re more than capable of getting Blondie back on our own but having godly-like powers as back up would be nice!”

Oh, so that’s why they didn’t just leave him for dead, they wanted to use his powers. Sadly he didn’t have time to entertain them.

Very sluggishly he started to sit up, his entire body achy and sore. He hadn’t used that much power in so long, he couldn’t help the way his face paled. “How… long have I been out?” He instinctively asked no one in particular. The two strangers looked at each other, the female only seeming more annoyed and the male giving a nervous smile.

“Two days and a quarter?” The man guessed, though went silent as he saw the panic overwhelm Jack.

That was technically nearly three whole days. So much could’ve happened in three whole days, including Hiccup giving up on him if he wasn’t dead yet!

“Toothless-” he looked around frantically, seeing the dragon sitting between the two humans eating a seasoned fish. The dragon looked up at him with a face that read ‘finally’ before swallowing the rest whole.

“He’s fine,” the dragon reassured, trying to use simple words so the demigod would understand and stop panicking. A hyperventilating demigod was useless. “Need - --- dragon, ---- --- friends,” he motioned to the humans and the chameleon that was on the man’s shoulder.

The humans behind the dragon looked down at the reptile before back at the demigod, both shocked. “You understand this thing?” The man gasped. “That’s both amazing and horrifying! Then again, you are a demigod so I guess these kind of things are normal for you.”

Jack shook his head, not having time for idle chit chat as he stood. Toothless groaned, hating how impatient Jack was. If words weren’t getting through, he’d have to draw, which was the way Hiccup used to communicate with dragons until he perfected the language.

Grabbing a stick between his teeth, he started drawing in the sand, gathering everyone’s attention as he recalled what Pascal told them earlier.

The first drawing was of a camp. He looked up at everyone to be sure they were looking before drawing flames. Taking a step to the right, he made another drawing of Jack holding a cage with a blob in it, to which everyone deduced was the chameleon. The next drawing was of them flying over two stick figures who were waving for help.

“Hey, we never asked for help,” the female said, but Toothless ignored her and kept drawing. The next one was two stick figures helping one laying down, then of a weird circle creature that must’ve been the chameleon drawing like he was. He drew a stick figure with really long hair with the blob on her shoulder, then an arrow pointing to a figure with a square on his left foot who was obviously Hiccup. He then circled the last picture, pointing at it as he looked at Jack, hoping he’d get it.

Thankfully Jack was good at charades because Toothless was a horrible artist. “Is this girl a friend of yours?” He asked the other two, who both nodded.

“She was kidnapped by the Mother’s Arms almost a month ago and we’ve been tracking them ever since. She keeps leaving red herrings to throw us off,” the woman angrily mumbled as she tightly clenched her fists.

“We finally found their main camp, but a few of the escaped prisoners said another army took her and a man captive and headed in this direction.” The man said as he crossed his arms. “They’re pretty sloppy, they aren’t even trying to cover their tracks,” the short haired female pointed to the tire tracks of a wagon and horses hooves. If they weren’t taking any precautions, it meant they were in a rush. These two didn’t pose a big threat, which meant something else did.

“I went into the camp and saw at least three different types of soldiers in there, all of which are enemies. They were probably being attacked as they fled,” his eyes darkened, hoping beyond hope they didn’t accidentally hit the captives while trying to retrieve them.

Both of their faces paled, the male swallowing thickly. “What armies?”

The demigod diverted his gaze to the fire they set up for lunch, surprised they’d take such a risk and break during precious sunlight hours. Then again they probably had to since they were hauling him around. “Other than the Mother’s arms, I saw Callaghan’s army, and the Nightmares.” Both of them, even the chameleon stiffened in horror.

“The Nightmares…” the female mumbled, not wanting to think of what they’d do if they got a hold of Rapunzel. “We have to move, and fast.” Getting to her feet, she kicked dirt on the fire and picked up the bag close to her. “No more breaks until nightfall.”

The man groaned, looking miserable but didn’t question her as he picked up the other bag. “We walked all through the night! Without my beauty sleep, Rapunzel won’t even recognize me!”

Ignoring the comment, the lady looked to Jack, her dark eyes narrowing. “You don’t have to travel with us, but since they have both of our friends, we’ll benefit from working together.”

Jack pursed his lips, not sure if that was such a good idea. After all they were on foot, he could fly much faster and cover more ground. Yet it was using his powers that put him out of commission for nearly three whole days in the first place. Maybe it would be better if he conserved his energy just in case a powerful Nightmare did have Hiccup. He still wasn’t fully rested...

“Fine, but I’ll rally up some horses, it’ll take too long to go by foot,” he said as he let the wind levitate him. “What’s your names?”

“I’m Eugene Fitzherbert,” the man said, obviously happy the demigod was joining them. “And this is our ice cold demoness-”

“Cassandra. We’re from Corona,” she interrupted.

Corona, he heard the stories. Thankfully they were known as being a peaceful kingdom with trustworthy people, which made him feel even more confident in his choice to travel with them. “I’m Jack Frost, and before you freak out, no, the monster died years ago,” he reassured when he saw her tense. “If your friend’s with mine, she’s in serious danger. Keep following the tracks and I’ll bring you horses. We don’t have a lot of time to waste.”

Without another word he flew off, trying to suppress the panic that still made his heart race.

What if he needed to fly to him at full speed? He had no clue where he was, but it would be better than traveling by foot. Then again, he still felt tired… resting was the best choice so he could actually save him.

Right…?

“He’s fine,” he heard Toothless mumble beside him, making the demigod blink over at him. How would he know if he was fine? He wasn’t with him!

The dragon rolled his eyes, knowing what the stupid human was thinking. “Hiccup is stupid, but also smart and strong,” he said, trying to keep it simple enough that even Jack could understand.

The demigod bit his bottom lip. Of course he knew Hiccup was really smart and fairly strong. There was no doubt he was doing everything he could to prolong whatever they were trying to do to him. What really scared him was the capture’s motives and plans, and what they had in store for Hiccup.

----

It was so hard trying to process everything, from the broken skeletal figures who were forced to pleasure nobles to torturing innocent people for ‘fun,’ the dragon whisperer was relieved he still hadn’t eaten anything so he couldn't throw up as he was given a tour of ‘what’s to come.’

He was fairly certain he recognized a few of the people the man called ‘handlers’ by their clothes and insignia. One had the Hamada Brother logo on their bag who looked strikingly familiar to someone who was working on the Safe House with them. He couldn’t be too sure, but he definitely recognized some people from Zootopia. It was hard not to, and he’d rather forget what he was seeing them do.

There was a man he nearly skipped over in his head. It was the same man who was telling others at a pub about a thief who had kidnapped a little girl, then proceeded to say it wasn’t his first victim. Jack nearly froze him and his buddies as they left.

Now Hiccup wished he had.

The most sickening part of it all aside from how brainwashed these people were were the dead bodies. Some deaths looked purposeful while others looked like it was done ‘in the moment.’

Burn - he wanted all these filthy people to burn. Even when the victims were finally free, he wasn’t sure what they’d even do. That didn’t mean he’d give up on them - he’d never give up on them.

“Lord Follo reserved you for him and I, so luckily you won’t be put on that kind of duty,” he said, and sadly Hiccup didn’t need him to elaborate. “You’re fairly strong, I’ll have you start corpse duty.”

Finally the man set him down, Hiccup just realizing they gave him a prosthetic as he stood on wobbly drugged feet. Glancing down at it, he saw it was mostly covered by fabric, probably because everyone here thought it was some kind of horrifying defect.

Disgusting sexist prejudice assholes. Yet they saw nothing wrong with their whole operation they were running. Made perfect sense.

As much as he wanted to make a fuss, he didn’t dare do it with innocent people nearby. He merely did his job no matter how hard it was to really move his limbs, the medicine still heavily affecting him. Besides, they gave him corpse duty. There was no way he wasn’t going to honor the ones who perished here. Some were even younger than he was.

At some point his eyes met with a woman with long tangled blond hair with golden hooped earrings and a matching necklace. Despite doing what she was told, her face was filled with burning determination. All it took was meeting her eyes for a second to know she was an ally.

Pitch suddenly chuckled softly in his ear, greatly confusing him. Before he could even ask what was so funny, he felt arms grab him. Instinctively he moved and elbowed them in the chest, which only caused another person to grab his attacking arm. Something pricked his neck, making him hiss under his breath.

Not again.

“Oh defect, fighting back is a big no.” Hiccup gasped as what felt like fire started streaming through his veins. This wasn’t the same numbing drug from last time-! “No matter what someone does to you.” His handler whispered into his ear, chapped disgusting lips brushing the skin. The dragon whisperer turned to him with a glare as another man punched him hard in the side, knocking the breath out of him.

“Now now, Lord Follo said to be gentle on the defect’s body. He wants to keep it in pristine condition... for now.” The man huffed before storming away, making his handler chuckle. “The man just wanted a feel. After all, you have everyone looking at you, including the slaves.” The dragon whisperer couldn’t help it as he glanced up, seeing it was true. “I’m surprised they didn’t beg to have time with you.” Hiccup tried to shrug him off his burning and crumbling body, but all that did was make him go weak in the knees. The handler merely propped him up by the hips and held his chin in his hand in order to force him to look at all the onlookers. The blond girl was looking down, ignoring the commotion and continuing her work. “They all want you, even the slaves. Maybe Lord Follo will allow it after he’s grown tired of you.”

“I told you,” Pitch only said to him, making Hiccup struggle even more despite the pain. “Can you hear them? They slaves are trying to talk their owners into requesting you so they can get a break. Cruel, but smart on their part.” The pained dragon whisperer tried to ignore him as he focused on the pain, but his voice just wouldn’t go away. “You’ll end up just like them… mindless, numb - a perfect shell.”

Despite the agonizing burning attacking every nerve, Hiccup moved down and bit the man’s hand hard , making him cry out as he slammed his head against his. Sadly he didn’t even feel the pain as he merely elbowed him in the family jewel, his handler’s howls of pain echoing as he felt another dart hit him in the arm, pulling him into unconsciousness.

Anything to get out of being subjected to that kind of torture. He’d rather feel physical pain than be subjected to that hell anyday. If he kept acting up, maybe they’d prolong it long enough for Jack to find him.

----

They covered a surprisingly good amount of ground in the short time they had the horses, which made Jack hopeful. Toothless was even flying a bit ahead of them to warn them if he saw anything to give Jack some time to rest.

“So who’s this friend of yours? I think you mentioned her name’s Rapunzel?” Jack asked the other two, trying to fill the awkward silence between them. They were obviously weary of him, not that he could blame them. He was still weary of them too.

For a moment they didn’t answer as they shared uneasy looks, making Jack groan. “Fine, I’ll go first,” he intervened. “My friend’s name is Hiccup Haddock. He purposely got kidnapped to free the people the Mother’s Arms kidnapped from Zootopia.”

Eugene couldn’t help but burst into laughter, and if Jack didn’t know any better, he could’ve sworn he saw a small smirk on Cassandra’s face. “I’m sorry, did you say his name is hiccup ?” He managed out between chuckles. The demigod merely smiled a bit as he nodded, watching as Eugene laughed some more. At least he was getting some reaction out of them. “I’ve heard some pretty unfortunate names but man does that one take the cake!”

“Fitzherbert,” Cassandra warned before tossing a glance over at Jack. “That’s a pretty ballsy move.” “I know,” Jack said with a proud fondness he couldn’t hide. “From what I saw at camp, most of the prisoners did escape, but Mother Gothel must’ve told the warlords about him, which is why he didn’t.”

Cassandra seemed to flinch at that as she avoided complete eye contact. If Jack didn’t know any better, he’d think she felt guilty with the way her back was slouched and the way her eyes were cast a certain way. Eugene looked over at her sadly, as if wishing he could comfort her in some way, though didn’t know how.

“What does her telling them have anything to do with what happened?” She managed to ask after a few moments.

“It’s complicated,” Jack started, not really sure how to explain it to them without going into detail. The less people that knew the better. “The Nightmares are after him because he’s my friend. They want to use him against me. As for Callaghan’s army, he sort of came up with a way to rid them from a village, but now they want his knowledge to repeat it for their own benefit.”

Was that too vague? The other two simply nodded, leaving him to believe it surprisingly wasn’t.

“I bet him and Varian would get along,” Eugene said with a smile, as if trying to lighten the mood.

Not really knowing how to respond, Jack let out a small awkward chuckle. “Probably. He gets along with just about anyone.”

“Princess of Corona,” Cassandra suddenly said, making Jack blink over to her. “She was the host for a powerful magical item called the sun drop since she was born. It… was supposed to be gone, but… so was she .”

“She?” The demigod asked, noting the dark tone in her voice.

Eugene looked between the two as Cassandra rode a little faster, trying to separate herself from the conversation now. “Gothel,” he quietly clarified, keeping his eyes on her to make sure she was okay. “Her mother.”

Mother?! The demigod couldn’t help the way he glanced over at her again. He hadn’t seen Gothel recently, so he couldn’t really make out the similarities.

“Long story short, the sun drop and moon stone were sent back to where they belong, but somehow Gothel came back even though we were sure the bitch was dead and poof, Rapunzel’s hair became enchanted with the sun drop again.”

There was a very complicated story behind that, he was sure of it. “What does the sun drop let her do?”

“Honestly? It’s all a bit confusing, but she mostly uses it to heal.”

Jack decided to stop there as he saw how uncomfortable the topic was making both of them. At least he had a better idea as to who was with Hiccup and what kind of danger she might find herself in. If the Nightmares found out about her power, they’d want to snuff out her light. And if Callaghan’s army found her? They’d enslave her to heal all of them. Thankfully they wouldn’t kill or sell her though.

And if she could heal, that meant there was a pretty good chance he was free from the knife wound and Nightmare poison.

“Hey Jackass!” He heard Toothless wail from ahead. Without warning he jumped off the horse and let the wind carry him, his eyes narrowing as he saw Toothless start to veer off the path.

Catching up to him, he felt his breath catch in his throat. Bodies of soldiers lay dead with their only wagon in pieces, but they weren't just any soldiers. No, they bore the insignia of a horned viking helmet with spikes jutting out of the top.

“The Outcasts,” Jack hissed as he landed, quickly looking through the wreckage. Toothless dropped down next to him and helped, letting out a whining noise a few seconds after.

“Hiccup,” the dragon mumbled quietly, making Jack look up from where he was searching, only for his heart to stop. In the dragon’s mouth was Hiccup’s prosthetic - there was no mistaking the unique design.

So many scenarios ran through his mind, so many horrific ones that always ended with Hiccup’s death. Desperately he shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut, recalling the night of their separation:

“I’m well aware of the risks of war, I can do this,” Hiccup said, giving Jack an encouraging smile. “If they take my prosthetic, I’ll find a way to make a temporary one. If they hurt me, I’ll make them think I’m weaker than I am. If they starve and dehydrate me, I'll exaggerate my condition to convince them to give me a larger portion – I’ll be fine Jack; there’s a benefit to having a fishbone like body.”

Right… Hiccup knew what he was doing. Even without a prosthetic, he was a force to be reckoned with, and even if he couldn’t cause chaos, he knew how to stall until Jack got there. He had to believe that in order to stay level headed right now.

Bringing the prosthetic close to his lips, he clenched it tightly. “Hang in there Hic, I’m close, I promise.”

Numbly he looked around the scene a bit more carefully, trying to capture the full story. Among the bodies he saw not only Outcasts, but Callaghan’s army too. It was safe to say The Outcasts smuggled him out of the burning camp only to have the other army swoop in to try to take their prize. It was impossible to tell who was victorious though.

Toothless gently dropped the prosthetic infront of him, looking up at him sadly. The dragon was worried too, he saw it in the way his body trembled slightly. “He’s fine, I know he is,” Jack reassured as he gently pet the dragon behind the ears. The reptile closed his eyes as he let out a few whines, only to stiffen.

The demigod instantly froze too, straining his ears to listen. “Dragons,” Toothless sniffled into a hiss. Jack strained his ears even more along with his eyes, not picking up on anything.

They were being watched though - he could feel those hypnotic eyes bearing into them.

“Ready to exit stage left?” Toothless didn’t know what that meant, but jumped on Jack’s shoulder anyway. Green acid shot at them from four different directions, the wind pulling them out just in time.

“Wow, okay, maybe we should’ve waited-!” He heard Euguene’s voice and cursed under his breath. Looking down he saw speedy taloned footprints being pressed in some loose dirt heading straight for Cassandra and Euguene who just rode up on the scene.

Shit, invisible dragons-! “Changelings - run!” Jack cried. They both commanded their horses to turn

The footprints quickened

They were out of time.

Taking a deep breath, the demigod commanded the wind to press on their backs, shooting them and their horses into the air. It took a lot out of him to do this, but it was the only way.

Their screams followed them up next to Jack as he willed them and himself forward, straining his eyes and ears in case one of the dragons realized where they were.

“Th-thanks for the save,” Cassandra said, finding Eugene’s bluing face amusing despite the near death experience. “Did you find anything?”

“Hiccup’s prosthetic,” he said, putting it in his pocket as he willed them forward, trying to get as far away as possible. “They were captured by people who knew him well, meaning I probably can’t track him,” he cursed under his breath. If Terrible Terrors couldn’t find him, maybe they’d have to rely on a Rumblehorn. Hiccup mentioned they were the best trackers when they first met. The only problem was he had no clue how to find one, let alone train one. Toothless was really helpful and capable of convincing a Terrible Terror to help, but a Rumblehorn? Probably not.

“How are you tracking him?” Cassandra asked, an idea forming. “Was it with that other dragon?”

“Yeah, but I bet they masked his scent knowing I’d be tracking him,” he grumbled, frustrated.

“What if we used Raps’s scent?” Cassandra proposed, gaining Jack’s interest. “If they’re like most enemies we come across, they probably don’t see her as a threat, meaning there’s a chance they didn’t cover her scent.”

The demigod hummed in thought, honestly not knowing if the Outcasts and Callaghan’s army were known to be sexist or not. They were both pretty dumb, he remembered that much. “Let’s try it. They both weren’t there, meaning there’s still a good chance they’re still together. Do you have something important with her scent?”

Both Eugene and Cassandra thought for a moment before Eugene’s face lit up. “Oh Cass, do you still have the flower hair clippy thing you got for her?”

Her eyes widened as she quickly reached into her pocket, a sad smile befalling her face as she stared at the beautiful pink flower clip she got for Rapunzel right before she was kidnapped. “She wore it for a whole day.”

“That should work,” the demigod said as he delicately took the clip in his hands. Now all they needed was another Terrible Terror and hope Hiccup was still with her.

----

When he woke again, he was back in the cell from before, his hands once again chained above his head as the drugs made it hard to think.

Great.

“Do you see how hopeless your situation is now?” Pitch’s voice whispered against his ear, making him groan.

Not this again. He wouldn’t let this go on.

“Actually, it gives me a sense of hope,” Hiccup mumbled, feeling the medicine wasn’t as strong as last time. The demigod couldn’t help the way he laughed, finding this amusing.

“Hopeful? That looked hopeful to you?”

“Yes,” he said as he pulled on the chains a bit, finding they were just as tight as last time. “Because I know I can do better this time.”

“Oh, so that’s what this is about,” Pitch mumbled, sounding bored. “Everyone thinks they can be a hero-” “I don’t want to be a hero,” Hiccup interrupted as he pulled even harder at the restraints. “I just do what I think is right.”

Pitch couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped his lips. “Is there really a difference?”

“Well, literally speaking, the word means protector or defender, given it’s a greek word-”

“A chatty bookworm too, no wonder he likes you so much,” Pitch interrupted, amused.

Hiccup rolled his eyes, wishing he’d just leave him alone already. “I don’t care what people label me as, hero, annoyance, useless - it doesn’t matter. What matters is I stay true to what I believe in, and I certainly don’t believe in you.” Darkness swirled in Pitch’s eyes as that teasing smirk finally fell. The room grew dimmer as the King of Shadows turned his back to him, making the dragon whisperer slightly uneasy.

“You really think you can help these miserable bags of flesh?” He asked with a mocking tone. “You, alone, against a whole army?”

Hiccup bit his bottom lip, knowing this was Pitch’s true presence. “All of them? No, but I can help some, and that’s all that matters.”

Pitch turned to face him again, his annoyed frown slowly lifting into a small challenging smile. “Fine,” he said, snapping his fingers. The hold around his wrists suddenly vanished. With a surprised gasp he fell to his hands and knees, somehow stopping himself from falling flat on his face. “I’ll give you a chance to save these lost souls, but don’t expect me to help you unless you beg for it.”

Hiccup slowly sat up, the medicine nearly making him throw up now that his body was physically moving. “I don’t need your help,” he said as he slowly gazed around the room. Despite being drugged the whole time, he made sure to be attentive. In every room he saw today, including his own, was a banal looking plant. Most castles loved to show off plants with beautiful flowers, so why were they using these boring looking ones?

Unless they had some benefit.

Crawling over to it, and with some difficulty, he finally managed to grab a few leaves. Throwing one in his mouth, he swallowed it and stuffed the others in his waistband, hoping they wouldn't fall out. If something happened and he couldn’t get to one of the other plants located around the castle, he wanted to be sure he had a few for backup.

“So you noticed the drug suppressor, I’m impressed.” Hiccup merely ignored him as he kept focused on his goal.

Now for the hard part - he had to find the girl with wild hair from the courtyard. With so many chains on her, she was probably still undergoing training like him, meaning there was a chance she was nearby.

“I bet you won’t even find a way out of this room,” Pitch mocked from the shadows, but Hiccup ignored him again. Like mentioned before, the dragon whisperer made sure he paid close attention to everything that happened, meaning he noticed something Pitch obviously didn’t.

Taking a deep breath, he struggled to his feet. Surprisingly the room didn’t spin like before and his feet remained fairly stable considering he couldn’t walk at all moments ago. Maybe the plant’s scent had some clearing properties too.

Stumbling the first few steps, he clumsily made it to the door and pressed his ear against it.

Silence - he didn't hear so much as clinking metal, let alone anyone talking. For once the odds seemed to be in his favor.

For some reason that didn’t comfort him at all.

“It’s useless-” Pitch stopped as the door slowly crept open when the freckled one pulled, making him growl. “What idiots,” he grumbled as he stepped back into the shadows.

Hiccup was more than relieved he finally shut up as he looked down the hall, seeing no one but dozens of cell doors. Frustration started slithering in his heart. There was no way he could check all these cells without someone hearing him, and he couldn't exactly call out either.

There had to be some way to find her before they realized he was missing.

Maybe he should start with the first cell and see what came from checking it. When they were forcing him into clothes, he could’ve sworn he vaguely heard a shouting female further away. With how thick these walls were, there was a good chance she was in the room next to his.

Yeah right, like he’d have that much luck. Whoever was in the room though might have some valuable information.

Taking very light steps, he very slowly started to push on the door. Just like his, it wasn’t locked, leading him to believe the soldiers were far too cocky.

That would definitely come in handy.

Peeking his head in, he couldn’t believe his luck. There chained to the wall just as he was, was the girl with long trusseled blonde hair with golden hoop earrings that matched the green beaded necklace along her neck and wrist. The closer he got, he realized her ankles were chained to the floor as well.

“Freckles?” She asked as her ferocious expression melted into confusion. “How’d you get out?”

Hiccup took note in the way her face was scrunched at the sides, giving him the impression that her pride was hurt. “It doesn’t matter,” he quickly whispered as he slid into the room and closed the door behind him. Pressing his ear against it, he listened again.

No one. Good.

“I’m Hiccup,” he said as he slowly made his way over, trying his hardest to prevent his prosthetic from clinking too loud against the floor. “And you?”

His answer made her narrow her eyes in suspicion as that rather frightening expression from earlier came back. “How do I know you aren’t a trap?” She asked, obviously not letting it go.

“Cause why would I want to be here especially wearing this?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. The girl couldn’t help but nod, seeming to believe that answer at least. “Still, how did you get out?!” She tugged on the chains on her wrists and ankles in annoyance. “Not even I can get out, and I can get out of almost anything.”

“Oh for the love of-” he rolled his eyes before taking a deep breath, trying to calm himself. They didn’t have a lot of time and she was wasting it on questions?

“Someone helped me,” he said, glaring at the darkest corner of the room. “Even though I could’ve gotten out myself.”

The girl couldn’t help but snort. “Someone helped you? That’s not suspicious at all!” She mocked.

“I’m cursed, does that work?!” Hiccup finally snapped, losing a little bit of patience. “This will probably have a really bad ending unless my friend gets here soon, but I refuse to sit back and let myself be treated like this.”

The smile slowly fell from her lips as her eyes never left his face. She must’ve found it convincing because she let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine, I trust you… for now,” she said. “But if your cursed ass gets us killed I’ll murder you!” “Sounds fair,” Hiccup couldn’t help but smile, relieved she was smarter than to put up too much of a fight. “I’m gonna look at the chains a moment, okay?” He warned as he came forward, studying the metal. It was surprisingly made well, which is probably why they felt cocky enough to keep the doors unlocked. Only a key could get these open.

A key or a dragon, but he couldn’t use the latter with the demon in his shadow.

“I need a key,” he sighed, looking back at the door. “I’ll be right back-”

“No need,” she said, making him look back up at her in confusion. Her smile turned into a proud smirk. “I have two keys, mine and one of theirs, cause I’m just that good.” With a few violent shakes of her hair, Hiccup’s eyes caught sight of a black key that looked familiar somehow, though he’s never seen a black key before in his life.

Without even realizing it, he took it, holding the smooth metal in his hand.

Was this metal? It kind of felt like it, but it also faintly felt like something else, something like… “Gronckle iron?” His eyes widened as he pulled it even closer to his eyes. The recipe was lost to them after Fishlegs couldn't remember what he fed his dragon. The fact that there’s a key made of it meant someone out there had the recipe!

“Uhm, earth to Freckles,” Camicazi called out, her tone sounding almost disturbed. “You still around or?”

Shaking his head he nodded. “Sorry, I guess I geeked out,” he nervously laughed as he didn’t even bother grabbing the other key. He just brought the black one up to the shackles and found it fit, probably even better than the original key.

“Thank the GODS,” Camicazi groaned as Hiccup undid the last chain that was around her neck. The girl wasted no time rubbing at her wrists and neck, her expression darkening the longer she did. “Just wait until I put all of them in chains!”

“Wait-” Hiccup quickly said, noticing her anger was getting the best of her. “Don’t forget about the others. We have to free them before we do anything reckless.”

Camicazi stopped rubbing her wrists as she glared up at him, once again annoyed. “We have to knock some heads together if we want to save them anyway.”

“True, but I have a plan,” Hiccup quickly said, making her raise a skeptical eyebrow. “But there’s a hiccup - or rather two.”

“Anddd what’s what?” She asked, crossing her arms skeptically.

“I need the castle’s layout and patrol patterns,” he bit his bottom lip, hoping this wouldn’t come to a dead end.

Her devious smirk gave him hope.

Hiccup swallowed the dread that was crawling up his throat, knowing that at any moment his good luck was going to run out. Not only did Camicazi know the layout of the castle, as she nearly escaped four times, but she also learned the patrol patterns because she was trying to plan another escape attempt. On top of that, no one seemed to notice they were gone.

All hell was about to break loose, he could feel it.

“There,” Camicazi said with a triumphant smirk as they lowered the next barricade against what barely qualified as a castle gate, successfully locking the training soldiers outside. “That takes care of half of them for a while.” Already they - or rather Camicazi - took out the watch guards single handedly. Hiccup was still in complete awe as she practically floated up the walls like some kind of vengeful spirit before knocking them out.

‘I once battled a brute three times my size and stole his underwear without him even noticing!’ She boasted earlier, to which he believed her. She was definitely a thief not to be reckoned with.

“Okay, that just leaves the patrolling guards inside the castle, which we’ve estimated to be at least forty.”

Camicazi couldn’t help but let out a soft snort, finding his unusual calmness amusing. Then again, they did have a pretty solid plan. “Forty against two, I like the odds,” she smirked as they very quietly started making their way to the halls. After a while he was walking by himself as they neared the first set of guards.

Four of them, all drunk and laughing about some story he couldn’t even hear. Not that it mattered. His eyes glanced up at the ceiling where Camicazi was crawling along the beams, her predatory eyes scaring even him. Like this she looked like a lion waiting for the right moment to pounce on her prey.

As soon as they walked in front of an open door, she dropped down, a rope keeping her tied to the beam as she used the velocity to kick the four into the room. Drunk, they easily stumbled and fell, to which Hiccup quickly ran and closed the door, slipping the barricade on just in time.

“The hell - let us out!!” One of them cried as another banged on the door. Hiccup glanced up at Camicazi, seeing her already up the rope and making her way further down the hall.

They repeated this process until they couldn’t find anyone else in the halls, only having trouble with a group of five who weren’t drunk. Yet even they proved to be overpowered.

The duo peeked out from one of the hallway door frames into the center room, both out of breath as they observed the area. They closed off all exits and entrances except for two. One was their escape route while the other had too many people gathered around it. Barricading it would’ve given them away. “You know, you aren’t that bad,” Camicazi said, making Hiccup smile a bit as he glanced over at her panting form. “For a boy, that is.”

“Thanks, you’re not bad either, for a girl, that is,” he smirked right back, forcing her to stifle back a laugh. Hiccup’s smile slowly fell though as he glanced back at the room, seeing all the brainwashed innocent people being used as nothing but puppets. They were hardly fed, their ribs were sickeningly sticking out and their eyes held little to no light. Images from the town they found in the forest came back, making clench the staff he stole from a guard.

No, he refused to let history repeat itself. This time he’d save them.

“What I said earlier still goes,” Hiccup said, gaining the other’s attention. “I want you to focus on getting the others out of here. If I get overpowered, leave me behind-” “Freckles-”

“I mean it.” Hiccup punctuated as he looked her in the eyes, letting her see his burning determination. “I wasn’t lying earlier, I’m cursed. There’s someone from the Nightmares watching me from the shadows, someone who probably won’t let me leave.”

Some of the color drained from her face as she physically tensed. “Oh,” she said, silence filling the space after. Hiccup bit his bottom lip uncomfortably as he avoided eye contact. Of course she’d shut him out after hearing that. Who wouldn’t?

“I’m still not gonna leave you,” she said after a few moments, making Hiccup look back at her in confusion. Camicazi was smiling this time, a smile that was warm and not teasing, something so foreign to her face it was odd to see. “I’ll focus on everyone first, but if something happens, I’ll come back for you.”

“No, you can’t do that,” he said, unable to stop the smile of fondness that crept to his lips, feeling horribly touched. “I appreciate it-”

“No butts,” she said stubbornly, that playful smirk returning. “You freed me, I owe you one.” She turned to jump back to the ceiling, but stopped as Hiccup gently grabbed her wrist.

“You don’t owe me anything,” he soothed, catching her eyes again. “My friend’s a demigod, he’s coming to save me, so don’t worry, okay?”

Someone screamed bloody murder, pulling them both back into the moment. It wasn’t unusual for this area, but it would be the last time.

Giving each other an understanding nod, they went to their respective positions. There were only five guards in this area who were armed. The others were neglecting their duties and using their ‘toys.’ Hopefully this wouldn’t take too long.

Eating another leaf he had stored in his hip, he glanced up at Camicazi, seeing she was ready.

The master thief jumped down from the beam and kicked two of the guards hard in the chest, successfully knocking their helmets off. Hiccup ran over, his staff swinging as he slammed it into the back of their heads.

They didn’t move.

‘Three more,’ he breathed, feeling an uneasy chill in the air. This wasn’t Jack’s cold, this was Pitch’s. Of course he wouldn’t let him leave yet.

Screams and cries broke out at the scene from the captives. A few of them stayed silent, some thoughtful, some thoughtless.

“We’re leaving tonight!” Hiccup hollered as loud as he could, readying his staff as guards started running up to him. “If you want your freedom, get behind me!” For a moment, no one moved as the guard charged him. Hiccup easily side stepped as Camicazi swung down and kicked him hard in the face, knocking him flat on his back. Twirling the staff, Hiccup struck him in the sensitive area, forcing the man to let out a guttural howl before going silent, unconscious.

A few started coming forward, both males and females alike. They were hesitant, uneasy, but they were taking the first few steps towards freedom.

Hiccup glowered as he saw a man grab a woman who was looking hopeful in their way, wrapping his disgusting fingers around her throat. “You’re not going anywhere fucking bitch!”

“Cover them!” Hiccup hollered as he ran over, only to skid to a stop seeing another woman hit him with a food tray. The man’s hands fell from the other’s neck, allowing her to quickly scramble from his lap. The women with the tray slammed it hard against his skull one more time before they both ran over.

That’s when chaos broke out. The handlers tried forcing their merchandise to go with them and sneak out the back door, but the other victims wouldn’t allow it. Left and right light started swimming in those dead eyes as they fought back. Camicazi jumped down from the ceiling and fended the handlers who made a mad dash for the line of women who were waiting for freedom as Hiccup helped attack the handlers who tried to get away. The whole time something was nagging at the back of his mind, something he didn’t want to admit bugged him.

He hadn’t seen the Commander or whatever that man was who captured him - the one who was supposed to be handling him. Considering he was high ranking, he could be leading the training session outside the castle.

“Don’t move, or I’ll cut out his throat!” One of the handlers threatened. Hiccup pivoted around on his heels and growled, seeing the man backed into a corner with a knife at the slave’s throat. Within seconds the fear left the slave’s face as he slammed his hand hard on the other’s family jewel. With a howl of main the man dropped the knife. With a shrug the slave ran free. Clenching his staff Hiccup ran forward and swept the man’s feet out from under him before slamming it into his chest.

Thud - Hiccup and Camicazi looked up towards the large doors they closed earlier and cursed. They had less time than they had hoped for.

“Everyone follow me!” He heard Camicazi holler. The captives nodded and followed, glancing over at a few who stayed where they were in fear.

They couldn’t move, they were scared to hope.

“Come on,” Hiccup gently soothed over at twins who seemed frightened out of their mind. Images of finding the little girl and her brother came back, to which he quickly shook the thought away. “If you don’t want to lose each other you’ll follow her, got it?” He pushed a little more, seeing more fear fill their eyes. But they still didn’t move.

He refused to leave them here. “I’m sorry, but you have to go.” Reaching down he pulled them both up by the front of their shirts and gently pushed them in the direction of the line. “Follow them.” Hesitantly the two did as they were told just as something sharp pierced his neck - again.

Cursing under his breath he quickly ate one of the leaves as his eyes met those cold gray ones that were filled with both rage and admiration.

Speak of the devil.

“The defect’s behind this? I have to say, I’m surprised,” he said as he clenched his own staff. He obviously didn't want to hurt his merchandise too badly. “That girl was locked up tight this time, meaning you were the one that freed her.”

“Does it really matter?” Hiccup asked, feeling a nervous bead of sweet trail down the side of his face. The leaf didn’t seem to do anything against whatever was injected in his neck this time. It was starting to get cold. “You won’t get past me.” He said, his eyes narrowing with determination flaring from his eyes. By now the line of slaves was out of sight, thank the gods. Now he just had to fend this man off for as long as he could.

----

Jack made sure they were safely away from the Changelings before setting them all down. All the horses instantly collapsed, reveling in the feeling of dirt beneath their hooves.

Cassandra and Eugene both dismounted their horses, seeming to be thankful for land again too.

“What the hell happened? There were no dragons!” Eugene finally managed to complain.

“Changelings,” Jack and Cassandra said at the same time, making them both look at each other, amused. “They’re dragons that can camouflage against anything.”

Eugene tapped a finger against his chin as he tried to wrap his mind around what happened, his eyes glancing down at Pascal who looked back up at him. “Oh, so like a chameleon, I get it!”

Jack let himself sit down for a moment, feeling more drained then he would’ve liked. “They normally don’t inhabit open areas like that,” he mumbled to himself, wondering if Hiccup had something to do with that.

“You’re right,” Cassandra agreed, crossing her arms in deep thought. “I’ve only encountered them in areas with a lot of cover. Maybe the enemy has a base camp somewhere in the forest. That would explain why the dragons were chased into the open.”

Oh right - that could be a thing too. He really hoped Hiccup called for them though. At least that gave him hope that he was okay.

“A flying human?” He heard Toothless question, horribly confused. Glancing up, Jack couldn’t help but squint, not believing what he was seeing. The dragon was right, there was definitely someone in the sky, but something wasn’t right. It didn’t really look like they were flying, it was more like they were being carried.

Wait… something bright was trailing behind it, something golden?

Getting to his feet, he willed the wind to pull him up. The closer he got, the more he realized that yes, this was a female with really long blond hair but she wasn’t flying, she was being carried by a Changeling!

Could this be Rapunzel?! Since she was with Hiccup it made sense why a dragon had her, although it didn’t explain why the dragon whisperer was nowhere in sight.

Toothless fluttered up next to him as they stayed a safe distance away, not really sure what to do. “I don’t want to hurt it, but I don’t know how to ask it to let her go. Can you?”

Toothless groaned, knowing this would happen. Flying up further up, he grew nervous. Would this wild Changeling even listen to him?

“Hey,” Toothless cautiously called, hoping he gained its attention. He couldn't see it, it was invisible! “Did the dragon whisperer ask you to protect her?”

For a moment, he didn’t think he’d get a response and nearly jumped when he did. “Yes tiny one, he begged me to keep her safe. Why do you smell like him?”

“Toothless is his guardian. Is he okay?” He asked, fearful for the answer.

“I do not know. I took the girl and left. There were many men around him, though I’m sure he’s fine considering-”

“Toothless knows,” Toothless interrupted, glancing down at Jack, hoping he didn’t hear that. “What did they look like?”

“Black clothing with red stripes and a little bit of blue. They didn’t really say anything while I was there.”

“That’s enough, thank you,” he said with a tired sigh. There was never a dull moment with Hiccup. “Let the girl go, we’ll reunite them.”

The dragon’s camouflage slowly faded, revealing the dragon that hovered with her still clenched protectively in its talons. Without another word she was suddenly airborne. Jack wasted no time catching her, nearly sneezing as her hair smacking him in the face.

“S-sorry!” Rapunzel cried out as she desperately wrapped her arms around him, afraid he’d let go. The fear was short lived however as her excited curiosity got the better of her. “You’re flying!” She gasped in excitement.

“I’m aware,” Jack said as they started to slowly descend, finding it difficult when the hair kept smacking him in the face.

“Without a dragon!” She squealed, only to stop mid way. Fearing something was wrong, the demigod looked down at her, though his eyes caught sight of the necklace she was wearing.

That was Hiccup’s! “The ticking thing!” He gasped, looking at her almost desperately. “What happened to him?”

“He pushed me away!” She snapped bitterly yet worriedly. “They were coming from everywhere and he called for help, but the dragon only grabbed me! I have to help him!”

Jack’s eyes narrowed, wondering how that could've happened. A Changeling that size would’ve had no problem carrying both of them, so why didn’t Hiccup go with her?

“Did you see any of them?” He questioned as Toothless landed on his shoulder. Rapunzel looked down in guilt as she shook her head.

“No… sorry. The dragon picked me up so fast I got disoriented, b-but we can find him with this thing!” She quickly held up the necklace, to which Jack nodded. They never tried it out before, but if it was Hiro approved he trusted it with their lives.

“The Changeling ---- black ------, red ------, and blue ------- humans.” Toothless said, hoping beyond hope Jack would get some of it.

It was enough, and the news literally made his blood turn ice cold.

Too late - oh dear gods they were far too late-!

“Can I see the necklace?” He asked urgently as they landed. Rapunzel nodded as she slipped it off as he set her on the ground. Instantly He pictured Hiccup sitting with him at a campfire, laughing and calling him an idiot as the ticking thing’s arrow moved, pointing forward.

“I’m going with you,” Rapunzel said, motioning for her friends not to hug her yet. “He saved my life, now I need to save his.”

Jack’s gaze darkened as he nodded, grateful. “Good, because where he’s at, he’s going to need your healing.”

----

He felt himself start stirring again, and just like the first time, he could hardly move. Every inch of his body was sore, the lingering effects of the earlier drug taking a drastic effect on his body. Then again it was probably designed to do that.

It was odd though, he wasn’t chained to the ceiling, no he was looking up at it.

“Honestly I’m impressed. You managed to get most of the slaves out, but then you got yourself captured again,” he muffely heard Pitch say, making him groan. “The Lord wants you to suffer for what you’ve done. And this man? He believes the worst punishment is having your own body betray you.”

Hiccup’s eyebrows knitted together after a few moments, confused. “Wh-what?”

Footsteps could be heard rushing towards his room, which made Pitch smile. “Just remember, I can stop him at any moment. Oh, and once he’s finished with you, there’s a whole line waiting for you.”

Hiccup’s eyes widened as Pitch was replaced by his handler who was wearing a black silk robe.

Oh - oh no.

*** “You’re finally awake,” he smirked as he climbed on top of him, the floor - no the bed beneath him bowing down a bit. “Everyone wants you to themselves after what you did, but the Lord gave you to me to punish.” Cold hands crawled over his partially clothed chest, making Hiccup’s stomach flutter, much to his horror. The man sighed at the reaction before dipping down. Without warning lips pressed against the exposed part of his chest, making him gasp in fear.

No - oh gods no he refused to let this happen! And yet, he couldn’t move - he couldn't even lift his pinkie off the bed-!

“S-stop-” he somehow managed to cry out.

The man’s face was suddenly back, those gray eyes fogged over with that damned disgusting smirk on his face. “Since I found you, you belong to me first defect-” lips pressed hungrily against his as those hands went to his sides, running up and down them as if wanting to memorize him.

“Stop - no - Jack-!” He desperately tried crying against the man’s lips, which only allowed the man to push his tongue into his mouth as one of those hands went to his nipple-

“NO!” He screamed as he slammed his head into the other man’s. Somehow it only seemed to spur him on more as he straddled his waist and ground down, making Hiccup miserably whimper.

‘Ask for help Hiccup,’ the demon chuckled as he felt the tongue break through his lips again.

No - he hated this, but he Jack would come - Jack would save him, not Pitch!

Moving his head slightly forward, he bit down hard on the invading tongue. When the man cried out in pain and tried to pull back, Hiccup only bit down harder , determined to bite it off.

‘Jack - I need you please PLEASE where are you?!’

A blinding white pain erupted though his body stemming from his private area, his mind literally going blank as a harsh ringing erupted in his ears.

“You BITCH!” He heard the man painfully wail as the weight against him left. Hiccup’s eyesight slowly started to come back only to realize tears were trailing past his cheeks, making him whimper.

He still couldn’t move, it literally took everything he had to move his head and bite-!

But this is what he asked for, wasn’t it? When he stood up to Jack and told him he’d take whatever came his way because he could handle it, that included this, right? So he shouldn’t complain, he should be able to take-!

...this was his fault for being so naive... wasn’t it?

“You made me BLEED!” He felt a blade press into his side, pain flaring and forcing him to let out a pained cry. “Do it again, and we’ll see what I do next!” Fear flooded through his veins as the man plunged into his mouth again, biting hard on his tongue and drawing blood.

‘Just give the word, and I’ll kill him for you Hiccup,’ Pitch said softly into his ear, those cold yet soft fingers in his hair such a sharp contrast from the horrific pain that was engulfing his tongue and side. ‘Do it, before your body isn’t yours anymore.’

The man left his lips as Hiccup was forced to swallow the mixture of their blood as he was picked up by the hair and turned around. “I’m going to make you feel hell!” The man grabbed his hips, not even caring that the knife was still in his side as Hiccup’s fear hit its peak.

It was hot, the room was hot, the man’s movements seemed to slow as the man grabbed his head and pushed his head into the mattress-

Jack wasn’t there-

Toothless wasn’t there-

He was all alone and he couldn’t stop this! All this time he thought he was ready to face the world, but not this - definitely not this-!

*** “Help-” The door slammed open just as the plea left his lips, the whole room becoming ice cold.

Cold - it was cold - was this Jack - please let it be Jack-!!

It was, and the absolute look of pure murder written on his face was petrifying. The demigod didn’t even lift a finger as an icicle slammed into the man’s side, the same area Jack could see a knife lodged into his precious friend’s side. The man yelped in pain, yet Jack was there before he even realized what happened.

“How. Dare. You .” The whole room froze over in an instant as he grabbed the man by the throat and threw him to the icy ground.

Hiccup let out a relieved sob as he curled up on himself, not even realizing that unlike the rest of the room, he was being spared from the cold. It took all of Jack’s restraint not to let his powers run wild, but thankfully he had someone he wanted to take his anger out on.

“Wh-who the hell are you?!” The man gasped as he felt ice starting to crawl along his skin. Jack’s eyes turned all white as darkness started to seep from him, a darkness that made the man cower against a wall in pure terror.

This man tried to violate Hiccup’s sacred body. This man dared to stab and beat him - made him whimper and cry, and who knows what else he did to his precious one-!

“I’m your worst nightmare ,” his voice deeply rumbled, not sounding like himself at all. The man quivered and whimpered as he felt his veins slowly freezing, looking up at him in pure unfiltered terror.

“Wh-what - a-are you doing to me?!” Jack took a step forward, the ice only seeming to slow as it started to cover his organs. The demigod didn’t speak as he came even closer, making sure to completely freeze something inside the man that made his eyes roll up into the back of his head. “S-stop… I-I b-beg you…”

The room went even colder as anger shot through Jack. “Did you stop when Hiccup asked?!” He snapped, picking the man up by the hair. “Did you stop when ANY of the asked?!” An icicle formed at the man’s lips, all the sides and edges themselves spiky as Jack’s face grew so dark he wasn’t even recognizable. “I want you to take this, all of it, slowly.” The man’s eyes widened as he felt it enter his mouth, the spikes already tearing up his mouth.

A small surprised gasp left Jack’s lips as some darkness fled when he felt a weight press weakly against his chest, shaky twig like arms wrapping around him.

“D-don’t…” he heard Hiccup’s shaky voice beg, the grip around him tightening. “Please… this… isn’t you.”

The otherworldly glow left his eyes as he quickly turned around and pulled Hiccup into his arms, horribly shocked the auburn managed to get off the bed. He was heavily drugged, he knew that the moment he saw the scene. So how the hell did he manage to get up and make his way to him?

“Hiccup,” he softly whispered as he held him carefully in his arms, mindful of the knife still in his side. “I’m so, so sorry it took me so long to find you,” the demigod practically whimpered as he made sure not to make him feel overcrowded in his arms.

The dragon whisperer merely shook his head as Toothless flew in, uneasily landing next to them upon seeing the scene. Something really bad happened… and something wasn’t right.

“You came-” Hiccup gasped out as he weakly clenched the front of Jack’s shirt and buried his face where he could, unable to help the way his body trembled.“You came, I-I thought you wouldn’t-!!”

Jack couldn’t help but laugh at that as he glanced down at his precious friend. “You thought I wouldn’t? Come on Hic, you know I’ll always be here for you… even if I’m slightly late.” His eyes went to Toothless, seeing the dragon uneasy. “You’re hurt-”

Toothless let out a roar, but Jack was ready this time. He gripped Hiccup’s wrist tightly as he felt the end of the bloodied knife barely poke against his clothes. Furious anger coursed through him as he looked down at Hiccup with such sad eyes.

This is how Hiccup was able to move off the bed despite being drugged.

“He’s not yours,” Jack hissed as he felt Hiccup push even harder against the knife. Bile rose in the back of his throat as he twisted his friend’s wrist, the cry of pain going straight to his heart as the knife clamored to the floor. “Let. Him. Go.”

Pitch chuckled as he formed from the shadows by the bed, seeming more than pleased. “On the contrary Jack, he finally is.” He smirked. Freckled hands wrapped around his throat, making Jack gasp in shock more than pain. “Do you know how hard it was to finally gain some control over him?” He said, quite pleased as Toothless growled at the demigod of darkness. Of course he paid the dragon no mind. “You really know how to pick’em, don’t you?”

Jack hated to do it, but he let his ice run along Hiccup’s hands as a warning. His freckled face wavered, but his grip didn’t. “I refuse to hurt you Hic.”

“No matter what I did, I couldn’t control him. He had to invite me in by asking for help. Even now that he’s under my direct control, I still can’t tell what he’s thinking or look into his past. I can only feel his emotions-” Pitch stopped as his look hardened against Hiccup.

The grip around his neck slowly faltered until those freckled hands left, tears streaming down his cheeks. “-orry - I’m… so sorry-” Hiccup’s eyes opened, revealing pitch black sand desperately swirling in them.

“What?” Pitch hissed as he held a hand out, applying more force. The auburn let out a sharp cry as he tried pulling himself away from Jack slightly, but the demigod didn’t dare let go. He absolutely refused to let the shadow master touch him.

The said dark demigod growled even more, applying more and more force. “Why?! I had you - I finally had you!”

Toothless landed on Jack’s shoulder and reached a paw out to Hiccup, which only made him whimper more. As soon as he touched him, black sand shot out from him - from his eyes, ears, nose and back. Jack literally watched as the nightmare mark on the back of his neck literally dissolved into sand before his very eyes, the sand crawling back to PItch in defeat.

“What…?” Jack even found himself muttering, but only for a second. Composing himself he let out a burst of ice, creating a wall in the room to separate them from Pitch.

“This isn’t over Jackson,” Pitch said, though his voice wavered a bit. If he didn't know any better, it sounded like there was a pinch of fear in his voice. “I’ll make him a Nightmare, the most fearsome Nightmare yet, and it’ll be all your fault!”

Jack ignored him as he quickly gathered Hiccup in his arms and flew as fast as he could out of the room, though knew Pitch wouldn't follow. Not when he had no clue how to bend Hiccup to his will.

The wind made Hiccup shiver, the blood seeping from the wound not helping either. “You’re gonna be just fine,” he whispered into Hiccup’s hair, trying not to dwell on what just happened. They’d have plenty of time to reflect on that later.

Finally finding the exit, he saw the Coronians eyes widen in excitement before they saw the blood. Instantly Rapunzel came running forward, gathering strands of her hair as he landed, gently setting him on the ground.

“You’re gonna be okay Hiccup,” she gently soothed as she wrapped her hair around his chest. Light gently flowed from her into him as Jack looked over to see Cassandra, Eugene and a girl with wild blond hair giving food and water to some of the slaves. They looked so confused and broken… almost like the people of the village they stumbled upon.

Hiccup could’ve ended up just like them.

‘No - I’d never let that happen,’ he swore to himself as he looked up at Rapunzel, seeing her looking for more wounds. “His mouth-” there was blood seeping from the sides of his mouth, making more anger course through him.

“Hic, I’m gonna open your mouth so we can heal it, okay?” He whispered very gently. Both of them didn’t move until they saw him give a slight nod, though both grew angry when they saw what the source was. Part of the left side of his tongue was nearly bit in half. It took everything the demigod had not to storm back into that sickening place to torture the man more.

Rapunzel whispered soft warnings to Hiccup before healing his tongue, her eyes looking for more wounds. They didn’t see any… but who knows how he was doing mentally.

“Do you feel anymore pain?” The princess softly asked, to which Hiccup shook his head no. She couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. “Good. There’s nothing I can do about the drugs, I’m sorry. We’ll have to wait for them to wear off.”

“You’ve done more than enough,” Jack gratefully said as he looked back down to Hiccup, watching with a heavy heart as those foggy forest green eyes held a glint of fear in them. His body was still shaking… that was to be expected though. Hopefully the drugs would wear off soon.

“Don’t worry Hic, I won’t leave your side,” he mumbled as he took off his cloak and draped it on his body. Hiccup shivered but closed his eyes, trying to regulate his panicked breathing. Jack bite his lip, knowing there wasn’t much he could do.

Or maybe there was. “Hic, I want you to focus on me, on my words, okay? Remember… I want to be a bard, so… just focus on me, my story, and my voice until you fall asleep.”

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Authors Note: I hope you guys enjoyed this super long chapter! =D I didn't have an editor because I didn't want to bother anyone and it's really long so I apologize! Tumblr doesn’t like to copy and past any italicized of bold words I do and it’s really hard to find them all so on tumblr I left it alone, sowy =/ For those who didn't want to read the *** part, the only thing you missed was someone inappropriately touching and trying to rape Hic, but Jack came just in time! But Hic called out for help and Pitch used that moment of invitation to possess Hic - or rather, tried to possess him. I hope you guys liked it!

#phage writes #hijack #frostcup #the greater good

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