#for a long time it’s just … either one or the other watching you get speared while they j*rk *ff | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

loveinhawkins · 1 year ago

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Part 1 ao3

When Robin and Eddie return to the trailer, Steve is still unconscious.

“Fuck, should we be worried that—how long can someone…?”

Eddie trails off, goes to check his watch reflexively before remembering that it’s stopped.

Robin shakes her head.

“This kinda thing happened, um. Before. I didn’t see much, but I… I don’t think… Billy Hargrove was completely—well. Steve had to, like, crash a car into him, and I, uh, sorta blacked out? For a bit of it? But he just walked it off, I think. Eventually. Billy, I mean. Like his body wasn’t fully… Like he didn’t really feel it.”

Eddie stares at her, reeling. A dozen thoughts scramble to be heard, many not helpful in the slightest—namely that Billy Hargrove stalked the basketball court like there was something seething within him every goddamn school day, so he can’t even imagine what that combined with the uncanny strength of The Mind Flayer would bring.

And the real major concern is—

“But Hargrove died.”

Robin looks up from where she’s been checking Steve’s head. Her fingertips are flecked with blood.

“He didn’t die from—he wasn’t killed by. By a person,” she says jerkily. “So we… we should be fine to…” She eyes the cistern lid, but her face drains of colour again.

Eddie exhales. “One problem at a time.”

He grabs Steve underneath the armpits, Robin holding his legs up.

They take him to the bedroom. Set him down, back leaning against the cabinet.

Eddie finds the handcuffs and gingerly attaches one end to a drawer handle, the other around Steve’s wrist.

Steve doesn’t even stir at the touch. His head lolls down unnaturally.

“They better not be the shitty plastic kind,” Robin says. “I’m not having him escape cause all you had was a Baby’s First Magic Set.”

Eddie’s startled into a weak chuckle.

“Excuse you, Buckley, these are the bona fide, genuine article.”

It had become a joke in the first place, actually keeping them. A year ago, maybe two. A girl from Loch Nora with a college boyfriend had either naively or intentionally thrown an open invite party—Eddie had only gone out of curiosity, wanting to see just how impressive the living space was.

He’d barely lasted an hour there, because a shithead of a ‘concerned’ neighbour called the cops on young people ‘loitering sinisterly’—as if their precious hydrangeas were in danger of being uprooted and sold.

Eddie got grouped in with a select lucky few accused of stealing. He hadn’t been, but he figured he might as well try and get something out of it. It was either Callahan’s wallet or his cuffs; Eddie picked the wrong pocket.

Now he thinks he actually lucked out, in a grim kind of way.

They take stock of everything they’ve got: lighter fluid; a couple space heaters discovered in the RV, another one found next to Wayne’s folding bed. A few bottles of alcohol along with cloths and spears. One walkie. Lighters.

Rope.

Nancy had left with Dustin in the RV. The plan had been for her to drop him off at the Creel House before returning to the Gate at the trailer.

But Eddie caught the steely glint in her eye as she readied herself in the driver’s seat.

Dustin sat by the table. He pinched his bottom lip between his fingers and tugged, harsh enough to draw blood. His hand was shaking.

Eddie couldn’t look at him.

He turned to Nancy.

“You’re not coming back,” he said in an undertone.

It was only once he’d spoken that he realised it didn’t come out as a question.

Nancy grabbed him by the wrist, pulled him close to whisper in his ear.

“Going to another Gate. Where Fred…”

Eddie understood: it was a last-minute change that she alone was in control of. One that Steve didn’t know.

And if Steve didn’t know, then…

The engine rumbled into life.

Eddie got out—had one last look, hand on the door. There were tanks of gasoline wedged behind Nancy’s seat.

Dread chilled him. He wanted to tell her that she shouldn’t be alone. That when she burned it all down, she needed someone to pull her back lest she get caught in the flames, too.

He didn’t say any of that.

Because Nancy just looked at him with something close to sympathy, as if she could tell everything he was thinking; it was already clear that whatever he said, it wouldn’t make a difference.

It didn’t stop him from trying.

“Nancy. Be careful.”

She nodded. “You too.”

Eddie shut the door behind him.

He was halfway back to the porch when he realised that the RV hadn’t pulled away. He heard the door opening again, began to turn, and was almost bowled over by the force of Dustin’s hug.

“Hey,” he said softly, once he’d caught his breath.

He ruffled Dustin’s hair and then stopped near the end of the motion, kept his hand there. Just held him.

He didn’t say it was okay, because it wasn’t.

Dustin sniffed. He pulled back and finally looked Eddie right in the eye.

“We’ll get him back,” Dustin said.

His voice wavered in the middle. But his determination was much stronger than the falter had been.

Eddie put his hands on Dustin’s shoulders. Nodded.

It was obvious that when it came to Steve Harrington, Dustin would go to the ends of the earth for him. And here he was, doing the hardest thing in the world: leaving Steve behind.

Compared to everyone else, Eddie thought, his job was simple, really. All he had to do was prove Dustin’s trust in him.

Steve’s face twitches when Robin shuts the window.

Eddie watches closely, holding his breath.

One eye opens, barely a slit. Moves sluggishly before finding Eddie.

“Hi,” Steve says.

He sounds… normal.

“Hi,” Eddie echoes cautiously. “Are you—um. Are you…?”

He trails off, feeling immensely stupid. What was he even gonna ask? Are you okay? Like he honestly was expecting Steve to say, Oh, could be better, but the malevolent entity inside me is a fucking bummer, man.

“How’re you feeling?” he settles on, because Steve still hasn’t moved, at least seems in control, and Eddie’ll take any semblance of normality he can get.

“M’okay,” Steve says, after a pause.

He lifts his head up slightly, notices the handcuffs. Gives a faint nod of approval. With his free hand, he gestures vaguely to the back of his skull.

“Feels… distant. I dunno.”

“Good, uh, that’s good,” Eddie says conversationally, like that will take away the reality of what he’s currently doing: tying Steve’s legs together with rope.

Both of Steve’s eyes open, his gaze turns sharper, calculating, and Eddie tenses—

“Eddie,” Steve drawls. He sounds supremely unimpressed. He shifts his legs and the knot Eddie made goes slack. “Tighter, dude.” “Oh, I’m sorry, not of all of us got our Scout’s badge.”

“Here,” Robin says. She nudges Eddie out of the way and binds Steve’s legs; the knots don’t budge. She gives a half smile. “At least Starcourt was educational.”

Steve laughs through his nose, but he grimaces a bit, like something Robin’s said is distasteful.

She puts a hand on his knee, peers at him. “Still here,” she says.

It isn’t a question, but Steve answers anyway. “Still here.”

Robin ties his free hand to another drawer handle.

Eddie catches a glimpse while he’s turning on the heaters, and his stomach twists—unbidden, thinks of Christ on the cross.

Steve nods at the heaters. “Put ‘em closer.”

Eddie does. He keeps waiting for a change, ready to leap back, but it doesn’t come. The only difference is that the pulse point in Steve’s neck starts to jump rapidly when the heaters are tilted towards him, but even that’s nothing like before, nothing like the frenzy in the bathroom.

Eddie puts his palm in front of one of the grilles. It’s only just been turned on, sure, but he can’t help thinking that it’s not nearly strong enough.

He stands in front of Steve, Robin by his side.

No-one moves.

Then Robin speaks out the side of her mouth. “Should you still…?”

Her fingers curl, palm up, and Eddie realises that she’s mimicking fret positions.

“Yeah,” Steve says before Eddie can answer, and Robin jumps. “Should still work.” His cuffed hand twitches. “S’in… Vecna. Me. Not enough… can’t control bats, too. Not—not all of ‘em at once.”

His throat clicks as he swallows, like the words are getting stuck.

“Should follow. Like… like, um.” His eyes widen for a split second, as if in panic, before he swallows again and says, a little clearer, “Pied Piper.”

Eddie glances between Steve and Robin. “Okay,” he says eventually. He steps back while Robin remains where she is. “I’ll—”

“No,” Steve says, and this time the panic remains; he shakes his head urgently. “Not alone. Don’t—not alone with—with me.”

“Steve,” Robin says.

“No,” Steve repeats, and there’s a fierceness to the word—Eddie feels it thrum in his chest, and he somehow knows that it’s not from any unnatural force, that the power is being drawn from Steve alone.

“Buckley,” Eddie says reluctantly.

She squares her shoulders. Takes a step back, eyes never leaving Steve.

Something in Steve unwinds, relaxes. His head droops, almost like he’s falling asleep. A stark vein in his neck pulses.

“Good,” he murmurs. “Good.”

Robin pauses at the door. Her eyes dart to the heaters, then Eddie.

“Are they…?”

“Highest they’ll go,” Eddie says.

Robin bites her lip.

Eddie knows what she’s thinking: that Nancy said unbearable, and right now barely one corner of the room is being warmed.

“It just takes time to, uh, kick in,” Eddie says.

It doesn’t sound convincing—sounds like he’s free-falling, desperately searching for something to hang onto.

But Robin accepts it, Eddie thinks, because what choice does she have? What choice do any of them have?

“Eddie,” Steve says, just as Robin’s stepped out of the room.

“Yeah?”

Steve wets his lips. Swallows again. It looks painful.

“It’s gonna… make him mad.”

Fear seeps down Eddie’s spine.

“We’ll come back,” he says, because right now, it’s the only promise he can make. “We’re not leaving you alone.”

“S’okay,” Steve says. He’s starting to slur his words. “Better this way.”

They tumble through the Gate as quickly as they can, then immediately set up the trailer defences.

“We’re lucky this is here,” Eddie says when they’re done, as he picks his electric guitar off the wall, untouched by vines.

“Yeah,” Robin says. “Lucky…”

She abruptly gasps and runs from the room.

Eddie curses, follows her—flinging the guitar across his back.

But there’s nothing in the living room, no bats to fight—just Robin pulling something out from behind Wayne’s bed, laughing with a touch of hysteria.

“Jesus,” Eddie breathes, “you’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

Then he actually processes what he’s looking at. Robin’s brought out a space heater, a bulky kerosene-fuelled one, much larger than what they’d originally rustled up.

“But that—that broke last winter,” Eddie says, bewildered.

Robin doesn’t say anything, just turns it on. The effect is almost immediate compared to what they’ve been working with: the heater glows red-hot, and Eddie already feels the urge to take off his jacket.

“Eddie,” Robin says slowly. “It’s 1983.”

“Holy shit,” Eddie says. He grabs her by the shoulders. “You’re a fucking genius.”

Robin turns the heater off, drags it to a point just underneath the Gate.

There’s a couple more treasures they manage to stash away: a match box found on the counter, thrown into a deep cooking pot Robin snatches from a cupboard.

“Oh, you mean business,” Eddie says. “That’s the good pot.”

Robin grins, and it makes Eddie’s heart ache—he knows what they’re doing, forcing smiles to hide their shaking hands.

“And what goddamn atrocity befalls it in the future?”

“That’s between me and God.”

They’re up on the roof, Robin crouched by the amp, when Eddie hears the Walkie crackle.

“Max is—bait’s still been taken,” comes Erica’s staticky voice.

“Uh, copy that,” Eddie says. “Sinclair. Henderson with you?”

A click.

“I’m here,” Dustin says quietly.

Eddie breathes out. “Good. Stick together.”

He sets the walkie down and yanks off his guitar pick. He thinks of Chrissy, her body contorting. Of Patrick, dragged from the water.

Steve’s hands clenched around the sink.

“Showtime, Buckley.”

The noise is explosive. It barely takes a few seconds for the bats to start coming; Eddie watches the horizon as his fingers fly over the strings.

Underneath everything, he can hear Robin counting out bars like she’s in band: One, two, three, four. Two, two, three, four.

Prestissimo.

“Eddie, two more bars!”

He nods in acknowledgement. Feels his heart pound as if in time with the music.

“Now!”

They run. The bats circle dumbly round the roof, some clustered onto the still ringing amp, like moths drawn to light.

Pied Piper.

“Go, go, go!” Eddie urges.

It’s tricky getting the heater through, but they manage it between them, an awkward handover across the Gate.

And then Eddie’s falling, landing next to Robin, breathless. They sit up as one, give each other a speechless high five.

Robin moves first. But she stops midway to Eddie’s room—like a reversal of when he was first brought to a standstill, seeing Chrissy’s eyelids fluttering erratically.

“Eddie,” Robin says. “You—you closed the door, right?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, mouth dry.

He knows that for certain because as he shut the door, his last glimpse was of Steve leaning the back of his head against the cabinet drawers, eyes closed.

Now the door’s ajar.

Eddie strains to listen, but he can’t hear anything.

He feels Robin’s hand dart into his. He squeezes tight before letting go. She picks up the heater. He’s got the cooking pot under his arm.

Together, they open the door.

The space heaters they’d left are broken, cracked down the middle. The handcuffs are dangling from the drawer handle, pried open, the ropes frayed apart—and the whole room is littered with…

Shards of wood. Snapped strings.

Eddie’s guitars. They’re shattered beyond repair, the red of the Warlock mixed with the dark wood of the acoustic.

And there, backed into the far corner, is Steve.

He’s cradling his wrist to his chest—it looks badly broken. Even from here, Eddie can see evidence of splinters embedded in both hands.

But above all, what’s drawing Eddie’s attention is that his shirt is off, revealing the state of his stomach, the bandages shoddily ripped away. The wound is oozing slow, thick trickles of black and red.

Steve doesn’t seem aware that anyone’s entered the room, just mutters indecipherably to himself, hair hanging down in front of his eyes.

Eddie manages to set the pot down silently—takes one hesitant step forward, cringes when he jostles a piece of wood.

Steve’s head jerks up at the sound. He stares at Eddie, a crease in his forehead.

“Who’re you?”

Robin lets out a breath like she’s been punched in the stomach.

“It’s…” Eddie clears his throat. Stays as still as he can. “It’s me, man. It’s Eddie.”

Steve doesn’t reply.

More wood scatters across the floor—Robin stepping forward frantically, “Steve, it’s me, it’s—”

Eddie stops her with a touch to the back of her hand.

“Steve,” he says, digs deep to find a calm tone. “Who’s this?”

Steve’s jaw works.

“R… R…”

Robin’s face shatters.

She sets the heater down. Turns it on full blast.

“Robin!” Steve gasps. “Robin, it’s me, I’m still—Robin, Robin, please—”

Robin takes another step—“Careful,” Eddie whispers, heart in his throat—and forcibly shoves the heater across the room.

Steve tries to dodge it, but he’s not quick enough; the grille slams against his arm, and Eddie inhales sharply as the skin blisters an angry, weeping red.

Steve’s cries are piercing.

But they reach a peak than taper off into whimpers; he presses himself against the wall, curls his upper body around his blistered arm.

He starts to sob.

They have to get closer to hear, stepping into the circle of heat radiating from the grille, Eddie just behind Robin; sweat pools in the small of his back.

“No, no…”

It’s a dreadful whisper.

They crouch down. Slow.

It doesn’t look like Steve notices: his eyes are shut tight, lashes damp as he continues to plead, “Don’t make me. Please don’t make me.”

Eddie can’t blame Robin for what she does next.

It’s instinct—he’d seen it in his peripheral vision at the boathouse, her hand reaching out to comfort, like she couldn’t stop herself.

No, he can’t blame her. Because Steve is hurting, sobbing like his heart is going to break from it, and he’s right there.

Robin’s hand moves forward.

Eddie sees the moment Steve’s eyes open, cold and inhuman, and Christ, for a millisecond too long, he’d forgotten that they had stepped into the ring with a cobra.

“Robin,” Eddie warns, too late, as Steve’s hand seizes her wrist.

“Don’t worry,” he says, and it’s almost perfect, almost Steve’s gentle concern, but there’s something off in the inflection, a misplaced note—“I’m not killing you first.”

He twists Robin’s hand.

She doesn’t scream, doesn’t even try to move, like she’s holding her breath just to stay silent.

“I can…” Steve breathes in and out through his nose. Predatory. “I can feel her.”

“Who?” Robin says.

A vague noise rumbles from Steve’s chest, like he’s searching for a name again.

“N… Nancy,” he says eventually. “She’s dying,” he says, off-hand. “She can’t breathe.”

Eddie reaches behind. Feels carpet beneath his palm. Steve doesn’t track the movement, eyes fixed on Robin.

“She will be like… like her friend. She will know how it feels to die alone.”

Steve grunts, and then…

Eddie has to bite down on his tongue to stop himself from making a sound; the skin around Steve’s stomach wound ripples, like there’s something bubbling up underneath, moving, alive, crawling up, up, up—mottled veins spreading, black as tar.

Eddie swallows back bile as his hand finds something solid. Wood.

He feels for the lighter in his pocket.

Steve leans towards Robin, baring his teeth.

“I will—”

Click.

“—consume her.”

The jagged piece of guitar burns in Eddie’s hand.

He throws it.

Sparks fly, land directly in Steve’s eyes, and he yells, lets go of Robin—with such an impact that she’s thrown across the room, landing slumped against the cabinet.

“Robin!”

But Eddie doesn’t have any time to help her, because there’s another click, a crackle, and the walkie comes to life, and it must be on accident because all he can hear is the sound of someone—Dustin and Erica—breathing quickly. Running.

Steve’s eyes narrow.

Eddie thinks of Dustin saying, “He knows where we are, he’ll know—”

“Shit,” Eddie hisses.

He tries, desperately, to turn the walkie off, but it suddenly feels like all the air leaves his lungs, and he’s pinned against the wall, Steve’s hand on his chest.

The walkie’s wedged between them. Steve’s somehow using his broken wrist to still Eddie’s hand, to keep the walkie turned on.

Eddie has no choice but to listen to what comes through the static.

It’s chaos. Heavy, frantic breathing; it’s like he can feel the kids clutching their sides as they run. In the distance, a car, the engine stopping. A door opens.

Jason Carver’s voice. “Did you see them?”

Behind Steve, Eddie spots Robin stirring.

Steve keeps staring down at the walkie.

An abrupt cry of pain, and another voice curses, says, “Shit, Jason, I think it’s broken.”

“El?” Dustin breathes.

Something in Steve’s face flickers, but Eddie’s too terrified to know what it means—tries and fails to turn the walkie off again, but he doesn’t even know what’s the right thing to do anymore. He just wants them to be okay, he just wants—

“Jason, no-one’s fucking there. You—you can’t even stand, I’m taking you to the hosp—”

A car door slamming shut. An engine starting up, fading…

Gone.

Dustin and Erica exhale shakily. Running again, footsteps pounding up the stairs, across floorboards…

The walkie cuts off.

Steve grits his teeth.

“Please,” Eddie whispers.

Robin’s up, moving so quietly—scooping the remnants of his guitars into the pot.

Another crackle.

“Eddie!” Dustin’s voice again, up close. “Max is—the music’s not working! I—I don’t know what to—”

There it is again: that flicker across Steve’s face. A ripple in a lake.

“Max,” he says.

The name cracks with emotion, and although his voice has been used before, an uncanny imitation, Eddie knows this is different, feels it in his gut; it’s him, it’s him, it’s him.

The snick of a match being struck.

Steve’s head tilts ever so slightly, but he doesn’t turn around. Like he already knows Robin is right behind him.

Instead—

Steve pries the walkie out of Eddie’s hand. Presses down on the button. Inhales.

“Run.”

The walkie drops with a clatter. Behind them, the fierce roar of flames; Eddie’s face stings.

He can feel Steve’s grip on him loosening, feels himself sliding down the wall.

Steve’s eyes bore into his—and although dark veins have spread across the whites, like spider webs, Eddie can still see the slightest gleam of something real in them.

Something human.

Steve’s lips move, cracked and bleeding.

Now, he mouths.

“Robin!” Eddie yells.

Steve lets him go, and Eddie sees a flash of Robin throwing the entire contents of the pot over Steve, raining fire upon him; Eddie covers his face from the scorching heat, scrambling to get away, relying on touch alone, and his hand hits something, the crunch of plastic, fuck, the walkie—

He’s by the doorway, gasping for breath.

Awareness comes in stages: the fire’s gone out, charred remains of the guitars on the ground where Steve once stood; Robin’s there, her hands red raw, and she’s looking at something, what’s she…?

Steve.

Steve dragging himself across the floor, his broken wrist pressed against his stomach. Crawling to sit next to the space heater, head tipped back against the wall, eyes closed. Breathing.

Just breathing.

Then, so faintly, Eddie almost thinks he’s imagined it.

“Railroad… Snow Ball… Muppet.”

Steve thumps the back of his head against the wall with each word.

Robin goes to him.

Eddie can only watch. He feels like he’s staring at a puzzle with too many missing pieces.

Despite everything, Robin reaches out with her hand again. She touches Steve’s knee gently, and Steve falls silent, stops hitting his head.

Robin smiles, tearful.

“You’ve—you’ve changed that song for me forever,” she says, choked up, and although Eddie can’t really understand, he senses the heart in it, the echoes of their story, of their love hitting him square in the chest.

“Do you remember,” Robin goes on, laughing through it, “the first time we were closing, and you—you got that whole bag of chocolate chips? Tore the corner and just, like, scarfed it. You looked like a chipmunk. It was—it was so gross. And you just said let’s see you do better, then. So we just kept eating them, and we had to pretend we had, like, a whole week where every order had chocolate chips just so we could get another shipment. You… you made me feel like I was five years old. That’s—that’s when I knew.” Robin takes a shuddering breath. Keeps smiling. “Right there. I wanted to be your friend.”

Steve just looks at her. He blinks, and a tear falls down his face, and Eddie can see it, like the sun briefly appearing through storm clouds, can see more of him breaking through, and for a moment, just a moment, there could be a chance, please, please…

Steve’s stomach spasms, and he groans, inhales short and sharp, twists away from Robin’s touch; the litany starts again, fever-slurred.

Eddie rediscovers the walkie. There’s cracks all through the plastic—it might not even work.

But Steve keens, pressing, pressing as blood flows through his fingers, as he trips up on the words, almost insensible now, and Eddie knows he has to take the risk.

His thumb pushes the button.

“Dustin,” he murmurs, “don’t tell me where you are. But if you’re—if you’re safe. Christ, please say you’re… Steve, he—he needs you.”

Silence.

Eddie closes his eyes.

“—safe. We’re all safe. I copy.”

Eddie thinks he laughs or something close to it. Maybe something else, too. He presses his forehead against the walkie. A benediction answered.

“Eddie?” Dustin says, and his speech keeps crackling, keeps threatening to cut out, but he’s there, he’s there.

Steve blinks, turns towards the sound of Dustin’s voice.

But Eddie’s not afraid this time.

“Railroad,” Steve repeats. Soft yet intentional, like he means it with everything he has left. “Railroad.”

Eddie passes the word on to Dustin. Waits.

Dustin takes a little while to figure it out—or maybe he solves it almost instantly, but here, time moves slow: just Robin and Eddie holding their breath, Steve only mouthing the words now. Barely there.

Dustin must push his button down mid-gasp, the words rushing out.

“That’s how we—that’s when everything—”

What follows is a garbled speech Eddie can barely make sense of, as static obscures every third word or so: about the junkyard and demodogs, and tunnels, and…

“D-different details, Henderson,” Eddie says with a choked laugh.

Fondness wells up; for a second it had felt like he was listening to Dustin in the middle of a campaign, on a tangent, and Eddie knows he just has to nudge him down the right path and then he’ll work it out, because the kid’s a goddamn genius.

“Stuff he can feel,” Eddie tries.

Steve looks at him, unblinking, and God he’s still in there, Eddie thinks, there’s so many thoughts, so much of him trapped beneath the surface.

So Dustin talks about Queen playing in Steve’s car, of how the fall leaves looked as they walked, of his shoelaces coming loose, and Steve getting down on his knees in exaggerated exasperation, you’re gonna fall flat on your face, dickhead, we’ve got enough going on.

Eddie takes the thread he’s been given, adds embellishments where he can—the crunch of leaves underfoot, the steady clunk of walking on the tracks, Dustin sometimes hurrying a little, just to match Steve’s stride—and as Steve finally blinks slowly, Eddie prays.

Can you feel it? Please go there. Go somewhere safe. Go somewhere it can’t find you. “What—what else did he say?” Robin says, when Steve lips stops moving, and his eyes close; he looks so tired. “Snow Ball?”

“Yeah, that’s—” Eddie pushes the walkie button again, so Dustin can hear. “Didn’t the Middle School have something… Did you do anything for it? Like put up decorations or…?”

Robin shakes her head.

Eddie furiously racks his brains for one detail, anything—curses himself for not paying attention, for shirking the ‘volunteering’ he was forced to do that December in lieu of detention; for viewing it all with a petty indifference, when for others, it must’ve meant so—

He releases the button.

“Did you say Snow Ball?” Dustin asks, before he launches into Steve shielding his eyes from hairspray, of the forest green gift bag his mom had passed into Steve’s hands, of Steve’s surprise, his shy smile—and then it’s Erica who takes over, calling over somewhere, “Lucas, remember when we came to pick you up?”

And the Sinclairs had stayed much longer than expected because Max’s folks were late in collecting her; and when Steve came to pick up Dustin, he’d noticed and stayed, too.

“He didn’t make a big thing of it,” Max says quietly, somewhere distant; Lucas adds that Steve opened up all his car doors so the tape he was playing could be heard: The Carpenters, some Christmas medley.

“He danced with Max,” Lucas says. “We were betting on how many times he could spin her in a row.”

“Ugh, shut up.”

Eddie can hear Max’s eye roll. Her smile.

“And,” Erica says, “he actually enjoyed dad’s small talk. Like, he was fully hooked on mom and Uncle Jack’s gift wrapping contest.”

Eddie smiles, covers his mouth just in case a traitorous noise slips out. The kids sound happy, and he doesn’t want to ruin that for the world.

Steve’s eyes shine, almost like he’s thinking the same thing.

Sorry, he mouths. I’m sorry.

The walkie dies.

Steve groans again, pushing down on his stomach wound. He’s trying to hide it from view, Eddie realises.

Robin keeps reaching for him. “Steve, don’t—let me help. Please.”

Steve shakes his head. “Can’t—can’t hold it back.” His voice is rasping.

“I saw you,” Eddie says, and Robin glances at him. “Last year. At school.”

The memory comes to him all at once, sparked by the kids and the thought of Steve chatting in a parking lot, so at ease.

“I was pissed ‘cause I’d just flunked—doesn’t matter. Was walking it off outside, and you turned into the parking lot, windows down, and you looked so fucking pleased with yourself cause you’d already passed everything. You must’ve had a free period, maybe a double, I dunno. I was,” Eddie huffs self-deprecatingly, “jealous.”

Steve’s head slumps against the wall. His chest rises and falls rapidly, laden with sweat. Eddie tries not to look at the marks—where the burning pieces of wood struck his skin.

Steve’s eyes find his. One long blink.

Keep going.

“You—you were wearing these sunglasses,” Eddie says, and Robin sobs, laughs, like she knows exactly the pair he means. “And you—the radio was on, but I—I can’t remember what was—anyway, you were kinda. Singing. Or, like, humming to yourself. And you were walking to the middle school, you kept throwing your keys in the air. You caught ‘em every damn time.” Eddie chuckles. “Do you know how annoying that was? And I—I just kept watching, ‘till the bell rang, and I just didn’t get it. Didn’t get why you looked so… so happy. But I—” Eddie swallows. “I know now.”

Steve’s mouth tilts, not quite a smile—he’s trying, he’s trying.

“You were gonna go see the kids, huh?” Eddie says. “Surprise them or something, I don’t know. You can tell me later. Promise me? And you—” His voice threatens to go, but he pushes through it, because if there’s one thing Steve needs to hear, it’s this.

Just this.

“You were happy. Because you loved them,” Eddie whispers. “And they loved you.”

Steve breathes in.

And he rises up so suddenly that Robin falls back in alarm. He hits the space heater as he goes, and while it still blisters his skin, he doesn’t cringe away, more deliberately leans into it—

“Quick,” Steve mutters. “He’s mad, he’s mad, we don’t have much—”

And he lies down directly on the bed frame, his stomach still oozing that viscous black and red; Eddie’s stomach drops.

He feels strange, like his body already knows what’s coming before his mind’s caught up.

“Quick, quick—”

The smash of a bottle as Steve fumbles it, spilling alcohol on the floor—he tries again, reaches for lighter fluid and douses the whole bed frame in it.

“Robin,” he says, “Robin, please.”

She’s watching Steve’s every move with wide eyes; Eddie just looks on helplessly.

Fucking move.

“Robin!”

“Steve, I—” She shakes her head, uncomprehending—more like she doesn’t want to understand. “I don’t—”

Steve doubles over, picks something off the floor. Eddie’s distracted—stupid, stupid—watching in horror as more black veins spread up, across Steve’s shoulders, the strained muscles in his neck, and too late, he realises that Steve’s holding a lighter in his hand.

Click.

Steve drops it.

Sets the wooden slats ablaze.

He cries out, back arching—the flames lick higher, higher, and Robin’s screaming Steve’s name, running to him, like she can pull him from the flames…

There’s something else in Steve’s hand.

Robin’s trapped where she’s stood, a broken piece of glass to her neck—and Steve’s struggling against it, but his hand doesn’t move, as beads of blood dot Robin’s skin—

Eddie doesn’t know when it happened. Just knows that he’s holding a spear, and it’s on fire too, flames creeping up…

“Eddie!” Steve says. “Finish it!”

His skin writhes, contorting; Eddie thinks of Chrissy again, of Patrick—and a faint memory of Will Byers, vanishing without a trace.

It was you, Eddie thinks numbly. It was all you.

The glass presses closer still against Robin’s neck. She gasps—

And Steve begs.

“Kill me!”

The stomach wound heaves like a living creature, gaping and monstrous.

“Give him back, you son of a bitch,” Eddie breathes.

He lunges forward.

With all his strength, he digs the spear straight into Steve’s stomach; the flames surge, engulf—

Steve screams.

A black mass pours out of his mouth, and Eddie thinks he’s screaming, too, but he can’t hear anything, can’t hear anything but Steve, the torture in his voice, fuck, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, and the mass hits him; he flies through the air, feels his head smack against something solid.

Then nothing.

He comes to in the living room. Blood dampens the back of his head.

Sits up. Blinks dazedly at the ceiling. The Gate… the Gate’s gone.

Bedroom. Has to… Steve, Robin. Bedroom.

He shoves himself up, wobbles. Forces himself on.

He knows he’s lost time when he nears the room: a chill hits him from the broken window, and the flames have been put out.

Robin. Robin kneeling by the bed, burns all up her arms.

“—open your eyes,” she’s saying. “Oh my God, oh my God.”

Eddie very deliberately doesn’t fully register who she’s talking to. If he does, he’ll freeze, useless. He will never forgive himself.

“Band lungs, Buckley,” he croaks, and then he falls beside her.

Starts compressions.

You’re not going, you’re not going. You’ve got so many people to see again. No. You’re not going.

He tries just to count out loud, but even as he’s doing it, something crumbles, something breaks apart irreparably inside of him, “Don’t you dare leave, don’t you…”

Robin. Two breaths.

“I wanna talk to you, Steve Harrington, and you’re gonna fucking be there to listen, do you understand, do you…”

He loses track of what he’s saying completely, lost to wilder and wilder promises, but it doesn’t matter, nothing matters except this, except the desperate push of his hands, the crack of Steve’s ribs, Robin’s long breaths; and God, Eddie would give anything, anything at all, would tear his fucking heart out if it would help, if it meant that Steve would—

“—just breathe!”

Something jolts underneath his fingers; for a moment, it destroys him: it’s back, it’s—

“That’s it,” Robin’s saying, “there, there, that’s—”

Eddie’s head sinks down to his knees.

Wretched coughs. Gasping.

“He can’t—Eddie, he can’t breathe.”

Eddie staggers over to the window. Makes the hole bigger, again and again. Glass slices through his palms.

“That’s better, huh?” Robin’s murmuring, and Eddie can’t look at her, can’t look at who’s in her arms; if he does, the proof will shatter, and that can’t… he has to…

The phone rings.

Eddie goes to it. His arm lifts, heavy and delayed. Like he’s in a dream.

On the other end, a terrified voice.

Mike. Mike Wheeler crying.

“Did it work?”

“I—” There’s a high-pitched ringing in Eddie’s ears; he shakes his head. “I don’t—”

“I-is Nancy there? Where’s Nancy?”

And there’s that gut feeling again, the one that pulled Eddie out of the RV in the first place; “Hang on,” he says to Mike, and he lets the phone fall, pushes the front door open to stand on the porch, breathing in shallow, frigid breaths.

There’s something coming out from behind the trees.

Closer and closer, and Eddie almost assumes the worst.

But it’s Nancy. There’s ash in her hair, and she’s drenched, coated in black sludge; her teeth flash as she smiles, a pocket knife gleaming in her hand.

“I made my own Gate,” she says.

Barely missing a beat, she tilts her head to the side to throw up. She wipes her mouth with the back of her sleeve, spreads more thick tar across her face.

Underneath everything, there’s a scarlet ring around her throat.

“Your brother,” is all Eddie can get out.

Her eyes blaze white-hot.

“Mike,” she says, clutching the phone so tightly, like she would do the very same if she could hold his hand. “It’s gone, it’s all gone.” And then, louder, louder, trembling, “And whoever’s fucking listening on here, get us help. I know you’re there. I won’t stop. I won’t—”

Eddie knows she says more. She must do.

But he can’t stop staring down at his hands. At the blood.

He steps forward—almost sways, and Nancy catches his wrist.

“Don’t go outside without me. Don’t talk to anyone apart from us, Eddie. Okay? They won’t touch you. I won’t let them.”

Eddie thinks he manages a nod. He believes her. Her jaw quivers, but her head’s held up high: if a gun was pressed to her head, he knows the bullet wouldn’t take.

The phone call continues, but the sound is muffled, underwater.

Eddie comes back to himself in the bedroom doorway.

Robin’s still by the bed.

Steve’s lying there, eyes closed. His stomach’s still bleeding, slow, slow, but the veins have gone, they’ve…

“Eddie.” Robin reaches out a hand to him. “Come on. You… you can feel him breathing from here.”

Why don’t you hate me?

He should leave. He should leave.

He doesn’t deserve…

But Robin keeps reaching, and Eddie’s on his knees next to her, a coward, you’re a fucking coward.

“Here,” Robin says.

She guides Eddie’s hand. Places it on Steve’s sternum, above the awful wound, above all the pain Eddie caused—

There. A rise and fall.

Just breathing.

Eddie’s breath catches.

“I thought—” He shudders. “I thought I’d—”

Robin must sense it before he does, before he even really knows it’s happening.

“You’re okay,” she says, and she pulls him into her embrace—keeps one hand on Steve as she does.

Good, Eddie thinks. He needs to know you’re there. He shouldn’t be alone.

He turns his face into Robin’s shoulder, and weeps.

#flayed steve harrington #body horror cw #pre steddie #steddie #steddie fic #steve and robin #eddie and robin #steve and the party #steve and dustin #eddie and dustin #eddie and nancy #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #dustin henderson

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ambrosialdesire · 2 years ago

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what are your thoughts on yandere levi 😩

my thoughts are: HELL YES

assuming that this is captain levi you're talking about, he's an already pretty terrifying force to be messing with in the first place, whether you are part of the corps or the enemy. to add on the yandere trope onto his character, you're in deep trouble LOL

ngl for me, it really varies on what kind of yandere he is depending on who he's interested in. for now, i'm only going to be explaining the instances and scenarios of reader either being a survey corps low-ranked soldier, marleyan captain enemy, and civilian.

i didn't mean for this to be so long but levi's been one of my favorites since middle school (literally was insane for him back then before reiner's s4 glowup lolol)

this is written as a gender-neutral reader sorta, no pronouns are used but it's slightly implied that this is a fem reader.

tw: manipulation, abuse of power, inappropriate touching, possessive behavior, implied non-con, implied mind-breaking

if you're part of the survey corps but serving as a low ranked soldier compared to levi, he constantly abuses his power over you. it doesn't show at all that he likes you, it's him mostly making you do things for him like you were his personal secretary. he takes you out of training to clean his office instead (he'd make you do it over and over again if it's not up to his standards), takes you away from your lunch group so you can boil his tea for him, sometimes just pulling you out of anything you're doing just to hang around him. at first, you were excited to take any job from him, after all, levi's one of the top soldiers in the corps. it was completely out of respect for the man until you begun to realize that he's just using you to only do "desk-jobs". you start getting sick of doing meaningless jobs for him but you're terrified of even saying anything about it to humanity's strongest soldier. levi's never going to be the really touchy type in any of my renditions of him being a yandere, but you've occasionally felt his faint touches around certain parts of your body as if a ghost had brushed past you; other times, he sternly grips your forearm or shoulder whenever he's in a not-so-pleasant mood. since him and erwin are buddy-buddy, he turns an eye with his behavior towards you, telling you that he would report the mistreatment to the higher-ups but really just throw away the files. he doesn't want his best soldier to falter anytime soon and you being a little special treat to satiate his appetite is nothing short of a itty bitty loss in the ranks. he's manipulative, wavering the threat of forcibly having you dishonorably discharged when you don't do as you're told. you wouldn't want your family to know that you're a shameful excuse of a soldier, would you? so be a good little pet, get down on your knees and beg for his forgiveness by any means necessary.

if you're a marleyan enemy soldier, especially a captain like him, FUCK there's so much tension between the two of you. his paradisian devil soldiers made a complete mess that night, killing many of the underlings and your coworkers, incapacitating the warriors as if they were nothing short of pests. you saw the absolute speed of that man who tore through one of the hinges of galliard's jaw and completely cut down jaeger's beast titan form, swearing nothing but completely hatred for that demon. levi thought you were interesting the moment he spotted you witnessing his attacks, eyes wide with admiration but stewing with disgust at the same time. there was a certain kind of fear that he's never seen before and the two of you shared a long stare before you took a shot, barely missing your intended target: him. a frustrated scream ripped out of you as you had to powerlessly watch them leave through one of the many blimps in the air. you didn't realize that he soon shot his ODM spears towards you, zipping in your direction and kicking you down to the ground. it was like he teleported in front of you as he stood over your body but you were soon knocked out with the butt of your own rifle. you woke up tied to a chair, hair being pulled back and gaze focused on the blinding light above you. he started asking questions, hitting you around like a training dummy but you refused to budge no matter how much pain you were in, spitting and laughing at his face. one of his comrades told him that it was useless trying to make you spill out anything, that they already knew everything that they needed to know from the marleyan defectors and zeke. part of his motivation for this (at that point in the anime) is because he's so sick of losing everyone important in his life so having someone to control, knowing what the outcome is because their future is strung by his own hands, it made the pain easier to deal with. on your side, for some godforsaken reason, he refused to let you go or kill you. oh no, no, no. he wants you to break. he wants that terrified, but idolized look in your eyes again. levi wants you to completely forget the person you are and who you served, only becoming his sweet and obedient marleyan prisoner.

if you're just an average citizen, it's a slow build-up of when levi began to take an interest with you. it was on accident but he starts to occasionally spot you whenever the scouts come back from outside expeditions, eyes wandering over the injured with a sullen expression. he couldn't decipher whether you felt simply ashamed of their loss again or that you felt bad that they had to keep doing this to themselves. that's usually only the few times where he sees you, usually trying to keep to himself and ignore the other bystanders. you were always there however, as if his eyes were automatically always darting to the same spot when he looked over into the crowd. when hange forced him to get out of the stuffy corps building and out into the city, he found himself staring at you while you serve drinks out to customers. it's filthy the way you brush your hand against theirs, winking at them to rub it even more. it was reminiscent, as if he was back watching an underground whore working for better tips. it felt strange seeing you outside of something he was used to, especially if it's something as deprecating as this back-alley bar. levi couldn't stop himself from standing up and trudging over to you when some pig put his hands on you, more so from what you're obviously comfortable with. it felt like he was back in the underground, the way he dug his fists into that sorry son of a bitch's face, fighting the group of men that he was with as well. hange eventually joined in as well, cheering in joy as they threw a beer glass into some guy who was sneaking up behind him. as the fight started to get more insane, he snatched you away from the scene when the moment was right (he may have left hange behind but they're more than capable of handling themselves in a fight). you thanked him profusely and offhandedly mentioned that you were definitely not working back there again after what happened. it could've been the traces of alcohol in his system or the adrenaline, but he kissed you right there. you pushed him away of course, completely shocked that the humanity's strongest had literally just kissed you unwarrantedly. he wanted to take his time to get to know you, he really did. yet levi realizes that he's no different from the disgusting man that he had just beat his face in, his grip around your arm tightening as he forces you against the grating wall in the dark alleyway.

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dearlittlefandom-stalker · 2 years ago

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Imagine being one of the Roman soldiers though. Imagine having to do what you thought would be a normal execution one day.

Three convicts, two of which are thieves. As for the third… I mean, yeah some people say this guy is the “messiah” (whatever that means, you’re no Jew) and there is talk of miracles and the religious nuts really seem to hate him, but you have him nailed to a cross all the same, so what? If he is a god then he can join the club; Caesar knows that the Romans have enough gods to fill their pantheon and then some. Most likely he’s just a man with some hefty delusions that cost him his life.

But then earthquakes happen. Weird but can be written off as chance, right? Then the sky goes dark midday. A blood moon rises.

That ain’t normal.

Feelings unlike anything you’ve ever felt arise in your gut. The man cries out with a loud voice “It is finished!” and dies immediately after. You shiver. Uncanny, that is.

“Surely this Man is the Son of God,” a fellow Soldier exclaims beside you. At this point you might agree, but the spear still pierces through his skin all the same and you think (hope) that whoever this God-Man was that he isn’t your problem anymore, seeing as he’s dead. Hopefully you can forget the whole thing. (Somehow you feel that this scene will haunt you for a long time)

But the debacle is not over with the burial, as you had assumed. The religious nuts get real anxious and noisy, so to shut them up Pilot has a watch set to guard the body of a dead man. A dead man.

You personally have seen many dead men in your time, but never have you seen one move. Never have you seen or heard of people particularly wanting to touch dead bodies, either. You almost say as such when you are one of the men assigned the last watch, but decide you’d rather like to keep your tongue than chance losing it. You expect it to be rather a boring job, all told.

And it is. Until these, these beings of light and lightning descend on top of you from the Heavens and the last thing you can think before you know no more is whatever god whose body I’ve been guarding please spare me

You wake up, despite all your expectations to the contrary. You almost wonder if it would have been better if you died.

Those religious nuts come to you and your fellow guards and give you some coin along with a fake story to tell. They offer to save the skin off your back so you are not put to death like others who’ve been killed for less. You go along with the story because to be honest there is still a part of you that hopes this was all a dream. But the borrowed words taste like ash in your mouth and the coins jingle in your pockets with all the weight of a chain.

You go through the rest of the day (and night, and the next day and night) after the event in a haze. Your feet walk where you know not and you don’t care to correct them.

But then you see Him.

The same Man you saw die.

The same Man whose body you guarded.

This Son of God, in the flesh, you see stand in front of a crowd with your own two eyes and you can scarce believe it but all the same you know more than you’ve ever known anything before that this is real, that this Jesus is truly not just a god, but The God.

And so you decide to follow Him.

Just imagine that for a minute.

#Good Friday #The Gospel #roman soldiers #Bible #Christianity #He is Risen!#Jesus Christ #story #my writing #personal #Resurrection Sunday #Easter Sunday

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hoarah-babylon · 6 months ago

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I had to make a BIG post going over everything that's got my brain whirring after watching the story trailer - it's all my speculation and personal opinion so don't take it as fact yada yada IT'S FUN SPECULATION TIME

(I'll put it under the cut bc this is gonna be a LONG one)

“Miquella the kind spoke of the beginning. The seduction. And the betrayal. An affair from which Gold arose. And so too was Shadow born."

My interpretation of this scene is that we are seeing the creation of the Golden Order by Marika. She plucks grace from something dead and fleshy, and holds it up to the Greater Will, beckoning in her new age. It would make sense to me, considering the voiceover, that this is a dead god that has been betrayed by Marika so she can pursue her Order and claim power. It does like quite reminiscent of Kos from Bloodborne to me. The fleshiness of the corpse also reminds me of the godskins/snakeskin. However, I don't believe this is the Gloam Eyed Queen. From my understanding of the timeline (mainly thanks to @eldenringslut) the GEQ didn't come about until later on during Marika's reign - if we are seeing the creation of the GO, and my understanding of the timeline is correct, I don't think it would make sense for this to be the GEQ. I can't deny different aspects of this do allude to things related to her though - the dusky sky, the godskin-like flesh. But I almost think that would be too 'perfect' for it to fit together like that, especially with how much people want to know more about the GEQ, I think fromsoft would want to keep us in the dark and surprise us. Whatever we are seeing here, Gold and Shadow seemingly came about at the same time.

We get our first look at what appears to be Messmer's army. They appear to all wield spears which ties into Messmer's whole Impaler thing, along with the shot of the person(?) impaled on the steps. I wonder who these people were, if they had to stay in the Shadow Realm after the battle was done (if it is?). I find the design on the helmet interesting - at first glance I thought it could be a tree or roots, but actually doesn't it kind of remind you of the black tendrils that shoot out of Messmer's flame? I think it could be either, or both, or maybe it's a chicken and egg situation and they're related somehow... my first thought when the initial gameplay trailer came out was that the dark tendrils in Messmer's flame could be deathroot or something similar to that. Maybe I wasn't far off?

We get our first shot of Messmer here. His pose pretty much solidifies to me that this is his army - this is the pose of a character commanding an army. It's so classic fantasy, the composition and everything, I love it. Messmer is awesome. I'm obsessed with the snake-like flames flying above the carnage.

"What followed was a war unseen. One that could never be put to song. A purge without Grace, or honour. The tyranny of Messmer's flame."

My take on this is that once Marika had won her battle/betrayed the God we see her pluck Grace from, she had her opponents banished and/or wiped out at the hands of Messmer. I have to say, it does surprise me that it seems Messmer was around and fully grown at the creation of Marika's Order. The implications there leave me with so many questions. Who is his other parent? Marika is Numen, and they seldom give birth. This is not an insignificant thing for her to have a child, especially if the theory of births being governed by the Erdtree/Golden Order is to be believed, and this must have came about before then. It would also go against the idea that Messmer is the full brother/secret triplet of Miquella and Malenia, considering that Miq + Mal were not born until Marika had left Godfrey for Radagon. I find that detail so intriguing... especially because I was so on board with the butterfly theories.

No idea who this is, but they're cool and that definitely looks like the kind of weapon we'd be able to pick up. It just looks like a PVP weapon, know what I mean? Very reminiscent of Vyke as well imo, similar pose to the box art of him along with the billowing cape. This reminds me, I'm noticing an emphasis on hair in this trailer too - I never took much note of Marika's hair before but in this trailer there was a lot of emphasis put on how long it is, how similar it is to threads of Grace, and Miquella's hair too. It's making me think of the bible story of Samson but let me not go too off the rails

Here we have some of the coolest shots in the trailer imo. This posits the Lion/Omens as enemies of Messmer to me - which to me supports the view that Messmer is aligned with Marika. The Lion/Omens always came off to me as if they were making a mockery of the GO - positioning themselves as enemies to Marika/the GO. We get another good look at his Flame, with the tendrils. They almost remind me of thorns actually. That final shot looks like a victory scene to me. It also really hammers home the Impaler thing. The man knows his brand!

Then we pan up to see what hangs above this burned city - this 'shadow tree'. THIS IS MARIKA'S RUNE.

I think we are seeing the origins of her rune as part of the modern Elden Ring here - Grace/blessings dripping from the bough of this tree. I have to say given the imagery relating to motherhood on the run up to the DLC, the rune does look vaguely yonic, especially on the seals. I think references to motherhood are in this trailer too - Marika taking something from a fleshy orifice with a voiceover talking about seduction, I can't imagine that wasn't intentional. So far the main character we have seen is her child, after all. The whole story of Elden Ring revolves around Marika's children. I have a feeling Marika's relation to motherhood and childbearing is going to be a big theme in the DLC.

I remember when the first gameplay trailer dropped, people theorised that this was Ranni's rune, and I was happy to believe that because of the similarities to Rennala's rune. But now I believe it's Miquella's rune, for several reasons, one being it reminds me of Malenia's rune, and they are twins after all. Although Rennala and Malenia's runes are oddly similar, it just makes more sense to me that it would be Miquella's, considering we are following in his footsteps. I think these rune spikes are going to be our DLC equivalents of sites of grace.

"And so kindly Miquella would abandon everything. His golden flesh, his blinding strength..."

Abandoning his flesh is very reminiscent of Ranni... but why would he need to abandon his flesh? Perhaps after Mohg stole him away? Though I have to say, I'm warming up the idea that Mohg never actually had Miquella, he just thought he did. That might not make sense considering that body in Mohg's palace is how we get to the Shadow Lands, but I don't know, something about it doesn't sit quite right with me for some reason. The line 'his blinding strength' is a bit odd. I can't take credit for this next idea, I saw it on twitter, but someone suggested that this is referencing him potentially abandoning Malenia - his strength, his blade. For Miquella to abandon Malenia though, it doesn't exactly align with what we know of his character. This is the person that turned his back on the GO because it could do nothing for Malenia's sickness. He'd need a really good reason to do that to her. Maybe it was his only option? I'm so intrigued about why Miquella is even in the Shadow Lands to begin with. What are his motivations? Perhaps it's something to do with his proclivity to want to welcome all, especially those outside of Grace, I suppose those in the shadow lands fall under that mantle.

"Even his fate."

Now THIS is super interesting - our first look at St. Trina! In her usual purple - associated with sleep. It does also look like she's sleeping here, sinking... What on earth does it mean to say that Miquella abandoned his fate as we are shown an image of St. Trina? Was he meant to eventually become Trina fully? We don't know much about her, but we do know Trina is an aspect/alter-ego of some sort of Miquella. Considering his parents were one in the same body, it's not a stretch to assume this could be the same case here. But in Marika/Radagon's case, it doesn't seem completely intentional - with the Ring shattering, I always got the impression they each fought to be in control of their singular body. Perhaps Miquella/Trina worked together rather than against each other? The queer part of me can't help but think of some kind of allegory to transition and Miquella having to walk away from it for whatever reason... but I really don't know enough to figure anything out from this.

I saw someone point out that this shot of Trina looks like Trina's lilies too, which is super cool (sorry I don't remember who that was).

"But we are not deterred. We choose to follow. Will you walk with us?"

I'm honestly surprised to see all these characters that we saw in the previous trailer just hanging out, I assumed they'd all be enemies of different factions. But here they look like allies, and from the voiceover they sound like it too, asking if we will join them. I think the voiceover is one of these NPCs. Seeing the fighting guy second on the left has got me super excited, what if he teaches us the hands-on combat we saw him do in the first trailer? I also think the crouching character on the right is the one we saw sleeping in the purple area (Trina?) from the last trailer:

Anyway, these are my thoughts, I hope they resonate in one way or another. I can't wait to come back in a couple months and see how wrong I was <3 yayyy

#i spent 2 hours putting this together and i'm meant to be sleeping #the brain rot is SO fucking real #i'm too tired to proofread so if i spelled anything wrong no i didn't #loreposting #elden ring #sote #shadow of the erdtree #messmer the impaler #numen #marika the eternal #marika #miquella #st. trina #elden ring shadow of the erdtree #elden lore #fromsoft

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moonlit-imagines · 28 days ago

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Preferences: Karaoke with the Avengers

Avengers x reader

warnings:

a/n: this was on a gif imagine list but i really thought this would be funnier teehee. also. um. all these gifs being mainly from that one scene of AOU is sending me

prompt: anon 🥀: “imagine karaoke night with the avengers”

Bruce would need a LOT of courage to go up and sing for a crowd, but he’d gladly do a duet if you were the lead. “Hang on wait, you start.” He’d tell you, awkwardly holding the microphone and standing slightly behind you. You’d laugh and start the song off, waiting for him to get comfortable before you started dancing around with him. The crowd went wild.

Avid karaoke spectator. Loves to watch, loves to laugh, claps as hard as he can anyways. Nat gets him to sing every once in a while—something really serious that brings the crowd to tears. You always record and save it for a rainy day. “Y/N, delete that. That doesn’t leave this room.”

Nat loves karaoke! She’ll sing solo, duets, group songs, any genre, you name it! But if you sing with her, you better do it right and you better do it on key. “Y/N, you’re going too high.” She’ll warn. “I told you I couldn’t hit these notes!” You’ll tell her, insisting on the other song you picked. It was all fine in the end, though, so long as you bought her a drink.

Sam can SING. Let him do his thing, he’s amazing, everyone can’t wait for him to get on stage. He has to swat the ladies away. At least, that’s what he claims. He’s not too much of a spotlight sharer, and he always asks you to hold the camera. You get the right angles. “That’s it, remember to zoom in at the end so I can do my wink, okay? We’re gonna post that.” Genuinely enjoys karaoke and loves the hype.

Steve will sing something old, everyone will pretend to fall asleep and he’ll call them mean. You always clap for him, and he’s even invited you up to sing some golden oldies, which shocks most people when you play his counterpart so well. It’s the closest he can get to an appropriate setting where he can dance the way he did when he was younger, and you always entertain it because it lifts his spirits.

Thor only knows one song, perpetually complains that there are no Asgardian songs on the playlist. His one song is something really silly like Maroon 5 or Imagine Dragons, but he sings it well. He refuses to learn any other songs, one will do just fine. And the more he drinks, the more times he goes up in one night and sings that same song. You’d think it’d be exhausting but its actually really funny. “Another!”

Tony Stark goes one of two ways—vintage dad rock (Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin, etc.) or early Y2K pop (Britney Spears, Lady Gaga). Either way, you’re in for a show. “Y/N, what am I singing tonight?” He asks your preference, but no matter what you say, he’ll do the opposite.

Wanda is a showtunes girl, she loves to live in that fantasy—even if it’s only for three and a half minutes. Any musical, you name it, she’ll do it. These require some backup vocals and maybe a partner here and there. Be careful, because she’ll just pick someone and they have no choice but to sing with. “Wanda wait! I don’t know the words!” You protest with her hand in yours as she drags you up to the stage. “You know how to read, silly!”

BONUS: Vision is the karaoke machine 🎤

taglist: @locke-writes // @captainshazamerica // @summersimmerus // @prettysbliss // @simp-legend // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @beth-gallagher22 // @mymelodymia // @deanzboyfriend // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 //

#bruce banner #clint barton #natasha romanoff #tony stark #steve rogers #sam wilson #wanda maximoff #vision #avengers #avengers x reader #bruce banner imagine #clint barton imagine #natasha romanoff imagine #tony stark imagine #steve rogers imagine #sam wilson imagine #wanda maximoff imagine

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unholywriters · 7 months ago

Text

Tigers Prey

Warnings/kinda: degrading, harddomhongjoong, mentions of blood, names {whore, cumsleeve, cumtoy}

MINORS DNI.

Summary: y/n is known for being a trickster within their sector and ran into general Hongjoong, who started to get curious of them and ending up cornered him into a deal, but of course, it wouldn’t;t be this long if y/n won.

Word count: 11.7k words

This one is a very long one and I feel like i have missed a lot of things when it comes to warnings or tags and if so please to tell me and I will dit it and make sure everything is up to date. I wanted to make this long because I enjoy writing long and descriptive pieces of writing but I do get too off tracked and end up writing more then needed and feeling like I either started to rush or I was writing to much of a scene that I felt the need to hurry and get to the other scene before it was just more then needed to be or just less. But overall I hope you guys do enjoy it and want to read more while I try to figure out how to work tumblr and make my account fitting to my linking and reflective of my writing!

Who doesn’t love a little good menace in their sector every now and then hm? Someone who can make you laugh and feel slightly better about all of the situations that are happening around the place you have to call home, right? Well, welcome to sector 8, one of the furthest sectors from the dune empire. Where the most ruthless were known to be created here and if they ever got out of those crimson red walls it was over for everyone who was in their line of sight. During the day, it was said that the emperor would send out some generals to look over the sectors. Mainly just to come back with a daily report and see if anyone needed to be in prisoned for their actions or harsh statements against the royal house. Something not a lot of people would walk away without having a scar to tell the story, if they ever got t walk away at all. But since no one truly seems to mess with sector 8, their left alone to do as they pleased, slightly having a lot more fun than the others simply due to the fact that it takes a long time to get down here. Having to walk through the quiet yet busy streets of the first 3 sectors, then walking through sector five where all of the clothings are made by hand per request, it’s always so busy there no matter what time you go. Sector 6 is more so if hunting per says, where the spears and arrows are made, sometimes the Royal guards will come down there to get their own weapons made and crafted.

“Your getting old their old man! Come on we’re not even halfway through the sector yet!” His voice cheered as he ran with a small bag of treats. It was just some corn that he would hold over a fire in order to make popcorn at home. But that was it, something that only costed around 2 coins, 2 for a small bag and 4 for a large bag. The vendor was an old-time friend of y/n’s someone they could always joke with, and people would know it by now and never saw a problem with it. So why would anyone go out of their way in order to make it worse? “And you’re jumping around in order to move somewhere else!” The man yelled back in a Happy yet playfully annoyed the while watching y/n jump around on the dirt.

His smile was enough to make even the most stubborn of me and women smile and feel joyful. To lose that would be like losing the sun after so long of enjoying its warmth. But today was no regular day, there was no warning for it either so no one could prepare for this. But there was a. Dangerous jingle slowly getting closer to the sector, one that brought fear and made many people hold their heads down. And when the post watchers saw the man in the blood red kimono, they knew what they had to do in order to keep everyone safe. One of the smaller watchers had run to a bell, listening to the music be loud as people were banging on the drums and rang the bell, looking like it was part of the music before it was all slowly coming to a stop. Leaving the lively and busy streets to be quiet and with people holding their heads down and the large wooden gates slowly moved opened.

Showing the man with a scar over his left eye that had a whole story behind it. The tiger general, a man who looked short enough to be so king and cheerful, someone who would lend you a hand if you asked for it. Was someone who could cut you in two before you could ever begin to beg for help. His hair was was long silky black, it almost moved like water with each step he took. Being held high in a ponytail yet it still reached to his lower waist. His clothes were always clean without a speck of dust of them. Sewed to fight his body in a way that looked so tight, yet he was able to move with such ease and grace it didn’t look like a tiger but a swan. He didn’t have much of anything on him but his sword. They saw there was enough blood from his battles to make his own sword, making it the first sword made out of blood.

The sound of the bell had reached everywhere, making y/n’s smile fade before hiding with the corn vendor, yeosang. The two were around the same age. With yeosang only being a couple years older than y/n, but also more protective of him. Yeosang knew how scary the general could be and never wanted y/n to meet that fate. The vendor was towards the edge where the forest laid bare and untouched by many people. The wooden vendor looking beaten and old, but it did the job it needed to do and that was enough for yeosang. He made sure Y/N was hiding in a spot close to under it since he didn’t have a back side. There were a little hole people could hide if they weren’t supposed to be out. A spot yeosang dug up first before ever making his little vendor. “Yeosang…why- “y/n started, wanting to pout and whine before looking at the shush tester on yeosang face before letting the old rug cover up the hole underneath his feet. Everyone could hear the sound of his men behind him. The sound of the armor clanging together was enough to make everyone return back to their jobs lookin scared and worried.

“Now now why is everyone so tense? I was just hearing that amazing music and joy from back there.” The general started, showing a twisted little grin while looking at each vendor, seeing how everyone was more tensed. Shoulders were raised and they were more focused on their jobs then before. After all some had to skin the fish, some had to take out the bones, some had to peel the corn and peas, cleaning the shows and making the instruments to create such beautiful music that rang loud. But not loud enough for the royal court to hear from their home. People always used to say that the most innocent and colors are the most dangerous and poisonous to be around. One touch and smell and you’ll be dead before you can even realize it.

“Now now proud people of Dune, I won’t bite you... without a reason.” He stated, watching how some kids were staring at him, but their mothers and fathers were trying to hide them without looking fearful, some kids were still playing with a ball made out of bamboo in order to entertain themselves. “I’m just here for my daily check up, come now.” Watching his guards check the vendors, even the corn one but found nothing, just like always, right? Y/N was there, listening to his endless taunts that always had some remains of fear control with each step he took. Making a crunching sound that sounded like the bones he broke and grinned. “Sir, there is nothing strange here.” One of the guards' states, listening to the general do. A taunting clap, it was slow, yet hard and powerful. “Good for them, maybe they can get some of the leftovers too from the palace. Oh, they would love that now, wouldn’t they? He taunted, knowing that he would give them almost next to nothing. Not to be rude, but just to see who would take it in the most brutal way possible. Who was willing to kill for their next meal?

“Anyways, let’s get going, we still have people to check on, don’t we boys?” Laughing at the end of his sentence, he turned on his black heels before marching his way back home. Yeosang looked down and slowly helped y/n get out of the hole, dusting them off but still trying to keep them hidden. But the general could smell someone new here, someone who didn’t have that scent of fear but knew causing a scene was not his style, at least not in the denser sectors. But of course, what’s the fun in confronting them when everyone can see you, hear and even feel you? He has to do this in his own way, hiding his face so no one can see him and try to give up covers. But for now, he needed to head back, the tiger general simply walking back home. He preferred it more then getting on his horse and letting everyone just see him.

Plus, it helps him learn about people, he can read them better this way and even now. With those trying to hurry and get out of his way so his path is clear, he can see those with fear, lust and even excitement in their eyes. Something he grew used to after so long of being here with everyone, and having to learn about people in order to find out who’s who and what could they have possibly done in order to get on his radar in a bad way. “Yunho, when we get home, take me to San unless something happened to where the emperor needs me, alright?” looking over his shoulder with his head tilted back, looking up at the taller male.

Yunho was a man of few words when out in public, his posture was straight and stern with eyes that had no life in them. No color, no emotions in them whatsoever. His hair was kept long per the general's orders. It was kept in a long ponytail as well, the hair was always frizzy whenever he went out, some say it acts like a cat's fur or when all of the hairs stand up on your body and point to a direction. His lips were almost always in a line whenever he was out f the walls of his only home. His clothes were sewed by hand with a color as bright as the sun, with different colors like red, and a difficult orange color to get ahold of when the sheep were cold or there wasn’t enough to feed them. His sword was always kept within its obi sash. With a bright yellow tie on the handle of it. He was one of the very first that the general took in under his own rule when he was invading another kingdom years ago.

But returning back to y/n, they were sitting on the vendor table, flipping a golden coin while kicking their dirt covered feet. Watching yeosang close for the night. It was clear he was on edge, yet y/n was more so carefree, after all the generals didn’t see them so why should they be worried about him? “You’re getting yourself tensed up, it’s gonna give you away you know?” y/N started, trying to lighten the mood as they always try to do but it was clear that yeosang was more worried this Time. The guards were looking around so closely and intense that it was enough to shake him. If it was any other day he would be just fine, trying to joke around and see who can smile and just feel more relaxed as the sun started to set. “Y/N… he had Yunho with him, that alone is enough to make people want to bow to their knees and hope they don’t get dragged away for public humiliation.” Yeosang stated, letting out a stressful sigh, knowing y/n just wanted to make things better, less tense filled and more relaxed before anyone went to sleep. But it just wasn’t working.

“I know you mean well, I truly know that you do, and it makes me happy to see.” He started, looking over to his friend who had a bittersweet expression on their face, it was hard to remained positive when the threat was constantly looking at you in the eyes. With nothing more then blood lust in them in a way that would make anyone shake if they could, not even just shake but tremble even. Setting the copper coin on the table, y/n had jumped down since yeosang had blew out of the candle, it was one of the last ones on the street that was still lit. They still had to walk down the furthest side, the upper parts of the electors were for the shops and materials for those to see and to buy. The very back was where the living sections were. It was hard to be there when everyone was almost just stacked on top of each other, all squished in the three houses it took since there wasn’t enough wood t make more. Sure, they were surrounded by the forest, but if anyone were to cut from it without a Royal order, they were killed.

y/n would walk yeosang over to his bed since they were further apart, everyone had assigned beds and spaces and to switch or move without permission resulted in a slap on the back. “Get some rest and please, if you sneak out don’t you date go to far out understand? I keep hearing someone walk when I try hard enough and-“ “Yeosang you’re stressing yourself out and then you won’t be able to sleep an then you’ll be cranky in the morning before you get to close. I’ll be alright.” Yeosang could only look at his friend, something felt wrong, too wrong for him t comfortably be able to sit down and rest the way he needs to before the morning comes. Holding his blankets he watched y/n skip to the robe, since everyone was still resting or trying to fall asleep. But y/n is a night owl, why fall asleep this soon when there’s still time to kill?

Walking passed the last sector house, there stood nothing in their way. It wasn’t like they would go dar, they were simply just there, enjoying the cold and crispy air around them before taking another crunchy step forward into the think grass. The moon was covered by the clouds, yet it always made for one of the more exciting nights. Walking passed some of the taller trees, y/n was simply walking down the stone made path they made simply by leaving stone rocks so they could make their way back to the pot before it was too late, after all everyone needs to have their own little rest now, don’t they? It wouldn’t be any fun if he was just as tired as everyone else now, would it? There wasn’t much to swing from sadly and since it was dark there was no telling if anything or anyone was in the trees just watching them or if there were any traps still set by the guards. But that’s part of the thrill, isn’t it? Not knowing who or what’s out here and if anything could kill you or injure you in a way that it would take a while for anyone to see or hear you? Let alone find you. “Hm… I could’ve sworn the lake was as lot closer, why does it feel so far away now?”

Looking around and trying to listen the sounds of little water ripples, there was nothing close that could make any sound. There was only silence, too quiet. Yet there was just a pair of eyes that burned like a predator watching their prey in the dark night. Watching how helpless they look, knowing that there’s something, just someone there watching them and their every move yet trying to find their predator was the hard part. Because where are they? Are they on the ground with them? In the trees watching them like a bird would. Maybe if y/n didn’t move then no one would be able to find them, right? After all, if you stay still, they’ll hav do to look for something else if you can hide good enough, right?

This was making the person smirk watching y/n look around, it was like the moon was out and this person could see every move y/n was making. How their shirt hair was moving around in a slightly frantic manner, their eyes darting around while they simply just stood there in their torn up and dirt covered clothes. It wasn’t that far, but y/n had to get back, and so they started to walk before it turned into a jog. There was someone moving after them, making quick running sounds to sound like a tiger chasing their prey finally after waiting for what felt like hours. But just before Y/N could make it, seeing yeosang holding up a candle to try and bring them over, yeosang’s eyes filled with horror after seeing who was behind y/n/ But he couldn’t scream. Because just as y/n was tackled to the hard ground, his mouth being covered by a cloth and his body being held and squished by someone else. Someone had covered yeosang’s mouth, letting the candle fall onto the ground before they stomped on the ground. The only sounds were their muffled struggles and muffled cries as the two struggled to get free from their captors. Who could they be? Who could be here this late just waiting for something horrible to happen? For the time to strike and take them away.

Y/N was lifted up over a shoulder, his legs were tired and so were his arms, but yeosang was freer. “Try to fight and your friend will get hurt too, understand?” The guard said in yeosang’s ear, feeling the wet tears fall on his hand before yeosang quickly nodded his head, being dragged along the sides of the crimson red walls. Yeosang was panicking, he couldn’t see but this man sounded cold and serious and whoever had y/n was more ahead while he could see his body thrashing around. It was a sight he never wanted to see in his life. But why was he taken? Why wasn’t he just threatened to keep his mouth shut or he would be killed in front of y/n as a punishment for them to understand.

“Please…Please what is-“ “You wait. To speak.” The guard said, making his grip tighter around yeosang before they were walking through more sectors. People were asleep and even then, those who were awake were keeping their eyes closed. Yeosang could only whimper in the painful way, feeling his side while his lungs gasp for air. But y/n is stubborn and refuses to go without a fight, this isn’t the first time they’ve been tied up, but they can get out. It just takes time and trying to not alter the man, it could only be one, but y/n is willing to take chances, after all why give up so early and easily when there’s so much more fun to have? By the time had reached sector 4, y/n had managed to break free before jumping on the sides to jump on the wall, getting on top before looking down with adrenaline and fear in hi eyes. He looked down to see the general, with a burning passion in his eyes that would make even the scariest kids sit down and never look him in the eyes again.

The look was screaming murder, but his grin was showing interest. But he also saw yeosang under the circle shaped lantern. He was scared but he was also being dragged by a guard. Someone who was more buff then the actual general himself. His eyes were filled with tears while his body was shaking. The guard had very short hair, he was new and was able to keep his hair as short or long as he wanted to until he’s been with the general for a year, then he would have to keep it long and learn to fight with it. The guard's eyes were filled with something unlike the others. He was trying to make his eyes stone cold like the others he’s around, but it wasn’t guilt in his eyes either. His clothes were black, they had to be the training clothes that most of them had to wear. But it wasn’t the time to be staring. Yeosang was trying to shake his head, telling y/n not to do this, it’ll only make things worse for the two of them and that’s something he didn’t want for him. “Take your choice home, I get to have some fun it seems. If tell the emperor I’m playing with my prey.” He said, watching the guard not before having to throw yeosang over his shoulder before walking back.

Yeosang wanted to scream, telling y/n to stop but the grip only made him gasp for air in pain before y/n started to run along the walls. Listening to the sounds of the general getting faster and faster, but so was he. If he kept going, he would be caught in no time, having to struggling more against someone who would make it harder to move and harder to do anything in that way. So just before the arms wrapped around y/n, he had jumped down into the water. The running was fast, but it was also said to do so, by the time the general had climbed up on the wall he was already running. It was tiring but the adrenaline was pushing them through. Staying in the water and trying to hide the water bubbles, it was too dark in the night to see anyone or anything, but they needed to go. “Smart move to be under the water. I can’t see you since this water is still murky.” The general teased, walking around some before jumping down t the shallow end, slowly moving his shoes while listening and looking around.

“But someone as such as you aren’t ready for water like this. It burns your eyes awhile your lungs just…scream for air. Yet if you come up too fast for air the water will give it away before your gasp for air. You’re at a loss here, little cub.” He taunted, letting himself have a nice chuckle before walking around more, almost disappearing while walking in the water, not even making a sound. y/n’s eyes were burning, they were floating but couldn’t come out for water, not without giving up, but they were close. Feeling the dirt get closer before slowly crawling out. There weren’t any sounds coming from the water, not a drop, not a little trickle before taking off in the woods. He had to leave yeosang even If he never wanted to. But there was not getting caught today, not now and not ever. Running through the woods, yet then finally hearing the faint sounds of someone running after them. It was almost in a taunting type of way, chasing directions ever so slightly in a way that was to throw y/n off before they were tripped over a rock.

Rolling down the hill before hitting a tree, letting out a painful cry of pain before slowly opening his eyes only to see the general standing above them, not even out of breath or tired to say the slightest. If anything, all he did was a simple head tilt before crossing his arms. “I enjoy these types of people. You know how to make it fun, you almost got away from me, twice.” HE started, watching y/n try to move away, but where could they go? “Tell you what, little cub, since it’s clear you’ll just keep trying to run and get away from this, why not make a deal with me, hm?” He started, leaning down closely but not so far as to where they would tip over the edge and fall over to join them, but even then, the general is a gentleman, he sticks to his word. “Why in the hell would I trust you! You took away yeosang who literally has never done anything wrong in his own life!” y/n yelled, watching the man let out a little chuckle that sounded like a man who’s lost his own mind only to have rebuild it again.

“Well, yeosang was wanted by someone for a while but he won’t be hurt, not by hand that is. Now back to you, stalling will just make me change my mind ruin you in ways n one would live through.” He stated, softly titling his head to the side some before holding up one hand. “If you could make it back to the sector within 2 days, it would’ve been three if you waited. Then you will be let off and able to visit yeosang as you please. But if I catch you before then, you have to come with me with no fights. You’ll be my bride.” He finished, he could see the horror written all over his face, either one sounds horrible, but what would be the point if y/n was caught? Being stuck in a room like a dog waiting for someone to come and feed them water? “If I win, I get to see yeosang and the sector gets treated better!” “Say that and I’ll make it one more day when the sun rises. Do we have a deal?”

It took a while before y/n could respond, it was obvious anything but a yes or a no would lead to less time, soon y/n wouldn’t have much of a choice in the matter. “One…Two…” hearing that countdown made y/n start to run, stumbling some while getting further away, only taking a left turn to hopefully throw him off, after all he still needed to get somewhere safe to rest. He only has about one day, but even then, so much can happen during that time. And that’s something the general was hoping for. After all who doesn’t enjoy a good game of cat and mouse. Running as fast as they could for a a while it was clear how far they were from home. The woods were denser, yet it was still quiet, but the sun was rising. There’s no way it could already be daytime this quick right? It was just dark, and everyone was resting!

But the day was hard, it was like every move was the last before getting caught by the general. From walking further to the trees to trying quiet, slowly moving around to find some water. Y/N was out of breath and tired, you could see some scars from falls and some bruises from the falls and crumbles, with the hopes that the general didn’t find him. But he still had to make it home, make it before anyone else could find him and take him a way. He knew the way, he just needed to turn around and make a run for it. That’s all he needed to do, and he was free from this mans twisted game. So, there he was, trying the withering piece of cloth around his waist before running through t he tall grass. Knowing he was close to home, he had to be right? He didn’t go that far like he thought he did.

His feet were burning from bleeding and all the rocks and sticks that poked him, his lungs were burning, and his stomach was growling so loud it felt like he was giving himself away it the man who was never too far but also never too close. The sky was still bright like it was just early morning, it felt like forever when not being home, not messing around with everyone and not even being with his best friend, it all was coming to and end and hopefully y/n was winning. But they couldn’t make too much noise when running, but one thing they weren’t used to, was the weight if everything crashing on them. “No…No please… I’m almost there…”

Y/N gasped, seeing everything get blurry and dizzy but he could see the sector. Where the guards were waiting and so was yeosang, who looked fearful yet almost broken. He was shaking as he saw his friend trying to emerge from the forest, but they were losing. “No…. Y/N YOUR THERE! BEHIND YOU!” He cried out before feeling the hand on his shoulders squeeze them harshly. Ignoring the people watching them since no one was allowed to help him get free, he had to get there before the general did. But he failed, and the last thing he saw was yeosang fall to his knees in pain before everything around him went dark. His body hitting the itchy grass while his feet were covered in more blood while everyone was watching. Hopping Y/N would get up and give out one last push, but there he was.

Walking behind y/n wit his hands behind his back yet that same large grin on his face while swaying side to side in a teasing way. “Oh, so close yet so far, it’s hard to run when your feet are bleeding oh that’s not good for your friend now is it, yeosang kang. Or should we change it to Choi?” The general taunted, picking up y/n like they weighed nothing and kept walking closer to the guards, all of them being men he has trained himself, all six of them. He was humming while rubbing y/n’s back in a slow manner, almost like he was waiting to dig his claws into it and tear into some of the flesh just to leave the perfect kind of marking. “After a deal is a deal and when they wake. They will be in my chambers, and I will be there to watch him. You, however, have your studies to attend to, Choi.” The general let out a twisted little chuckle once again before walking through the old village. Watching people hang their heads down with their hairs hiding their faces.

They lost two people today, one of them being someone who caused them laughter and someone who was either shy or sassy, sometimes even both. The youngest guard was holding yeosang’s hand and making them walk besides him. No one could look, but only in that sector. Once they made it passed the others of course people were staring, after all they started to think he had caught two criminals, and they were being taken a way from their sentencing. Which would be the case if the general wasn’t so interested. “Please… his feet are turning blue...” Yeosang whispered as they made it to the second sector. “Jong-ho did the little kang say something” The general asked, titling his head over while walking up the stairs leading to the crimson red doors. Jong-ho, the youngest general had looked over to yeosang, watching the older man trying to keep his shoulders high but it was hard when the stare was so…empty yet dark. Maybe it was only an act around the others, right?

“I’m not sure, did you?” he asked, looking down to the older male. “The more we stand here the more he’ll bleed, now we can’t have that now, can we?” The general was enjoying his taunts, seeing the look of fear, confusion and anger written all over yeosang’s face before walking up the stairs, allowing some of the blood to trickle down to the stairs before reaching the tall red doors. There were so many gold dots on the doors in order to make every animal that each of the 7 generals presented with the dragon above them, symbolizing the emperor. Watching the doors slowly open, the general walked inside before looking in the red eyes of the emperor. The emperor of the lakes, and the blood that runs in them. Seonghwa Park. He stood there close to the entrance, the sun slightly lighting up his honey tanned skin along with his long purple hair that seemed to only get longer as the years went. They saw so much blood was spilled on his eyes during all of the fights. His clothes were always the best, of course. A rare blue made from the closest sector, with white clothes and his favorite light blue robe to make him stand out.

“I see you’ve finally returned, Hongjoong. Nurse, attend to the…” “Bride or cup, emperor park.” Hongjoong, the general answered while letting the silent nurse slowly take the man and quickly walk over to the emergency med tent. Leaving the men to their own conversation while yeosang kept his head down, after all without permission. He wasn’t allowed to look at the powerful man in front of him, he could only listen to his chilling, yet soothing voice speak through the walls around them. “Clearly their a bride. You never play with your pretty this badly unless you want them alive under your terror.” The emperor said, watching Hongjoong walk closer to him till they were walking side by side with jong-ho tailing along, waiting for his dismissal. “Why of course, someone the people are willing to hide from me? How could I grow curious of a feisty cub who thought running form me was the smart answer?” he questioned, watching the older man smirk in approval.

“I taught you well it seems, now what about little jog-ho? You let him keep a prize?” “Oh, you know, he grew curious to know who was hiding them and had a feeling the little corn stand was a little more…loose then the others and decided to ask me a question. If he was right about the stand, he could keep the owner, and if he was wrong, I was free to punish him. Good thing he was right, hm?” Jong-ho could only nod his head in agreement, something yeosang never knew about. He was a target from the start of it all whenever they had their last visit, which was around months ago, and even when he thought he was being careful he was wrong. Maybe it’s true that none of them are human or yeosang wasn’t as smart as he thought he was. Yeosang could only look over before they stopped walking, they were inside the locked doors of the red palace, or blood palace as most call it out of the ears of those inside.

The infamous red color was everywhere, with each hall being dedicated to each member, with the largest being only for the emperor, of course. Leading to his main house where his living quarters where along with any concubine he picked. Both male and females, no one was safe from his eyes once he picked you. Hongjoong was next to his, somewhat, the tiger was painted above the hallway with eyes brighter than his own. “Jong-ho, you’re dismissed. Hongjoong, the boy has been taken to your room, you’re lucky they aren’t sick.” Hongjoong gave a deep bow before walking down the dark hallway, enjoying his to be dark and barely lit before entering his room. It was a grand room for anyone to be able to enter with his rather large circular bed in the middle.

The sheets were as white as snow, opposite of how he is rather with red covers and pillow covers to match it. After all, like this he could hear everything from every corner that there was around him. It was easier this way sine it also never messed with the wooden floors he had. To the right was a door to his bathroom that was slightly opened, he had given his maids permission to clean him, well the butlers rather. He never let the girls see what was his to see under all of those clothes. After all, why would they? His bathroom was almost as large as his own room. With a matching ceiling and floor to his own room. The tub was sunken into the floor with buckets there to let out all of the water and simply use it for the plants within the garden, after all water can never truly be wasted if someone is careful enough. There mirror was slightly large in frame, but it was there, along with wooden carved cabinets with the freshest towels for cleaning and for drying. In the hot filled water was y/n, still asleep but getting cleaned in ways he never was before.

His hair was even cleaned and picked of anything that was still left in there, like bugs, dirt, any lice if possible. He was getting scrubbed so hard anyone would find it uncomfortable, but it needed to be done, the water itself was so dirty but there was progress being made. Even his teeth were being brushed yet he was still asleep, it was estimated h would be asleep for a couple of hours, enough for everyone to get things done without a fight and having to witness the brutality of the general, something no one liked to have dealt with anymore. “We’ve cleaned him as best as we could general, this will help with his recovery.” One of the butlers said, looking over to the general's feet while scrubbing y/n back still, hearing his slow claps of approval which made everyone slow down. “Wrap him in a towel and let me dry and dress him. Afterwards someone will take his measurements and make the clothes for him, along with the dress, he will be wedded to me within this week or the next, whenever the dress is done and the flowers are ready, understood?” He said titling his head to the side and watching everyone nod while doing their request fast and the way he liked.

Soon y/n was back in his arms, still limp like a rag doll, but they were alone once more with no one to hear them, or really no one to stop them. Hongjoong was gentle with the drying part, caressing every body part and making sure it was all dry before getting them dressed in a rather large shirt, it was all he had. Letting the male rest on the round bed while he simply stared at him. To think someone like this had caught his eye after so long of not being interested in anyone, no matter who tried wit their own creative way no one was able to. Yet here he is, looking over his prey like it was too perfect to eat, but not perfect enough to spare the torture.

“So... I had lost the bet then, haven’t I?” Y/N asked one of the maids, watching them take the measurements as needed before slowly nodding her head. It was all she could say, after all what could she do? Hongjoong had ears and was on the move, listening to every word somehow being spilled among people in ways some would say is the world of a demon. “He brought you here 2 days ago to be exact.” “Two days ago? I was out that’s long?” “Your body was extremely weak due to all of the sudden movements and possible high nerves and tension. You never had the time to rest and calm down the way you needed to, when you passed out it was the only way your body was able to recover from the stress and fear of it all. Now, what color would you like the dress?” She held up a wooden board with the strings attached to it all stretched out, not giving y/n much time to recover from the shock of it all.

It was clear she had to hurry, not because she was scared but because she knew that the general would send her out if she wasn’t fast enough to get the information she needed. She had all the measurements, all the numbers needed and now she just needed the color. Which wasn’t much there could be made with the little amount of time. “Does it truly matter what color it is? Won’t he just make it a different one?” “He said this is among the few things you have control over sir. The ones on here are the ones we have enough to make the dress with.” There was blue, red, gold and purple, white was used too much for some weddings if possible and Hongjoong wasn’t going to allow such a basic color, he needed something bold, something fierce and show to show his own marking without even tainting the actual body. “Then I guess… purple will do.” y/N answered, trying to swallow the pride in his own throat while standing tall.

He lost the bet fair and square and even then, this is the home of the emperor, running away would end in death before anything could get out of those walls alive, even with a limb attached correctly still. The maid simply bowed before holding her items and leaving the room, allowing y/n to look around at the place. The windows were always uncovered to show the sky and the moon when it rose, along with the best view of the garden, well one of the best views of the garden. There was a wooden stand with Hongjoong armor on it with one of his many swords attached to it. The closet was small since he never wore much, but he had one made for y/n to be another large extension since he had an extra room, he never saw the purpose of.

“Ah, I see you’ve accepted the deal terms and didn’t put a fight. Good, good, little Choi was so worried about you. It almost made me pity you.” Hearing that voice was like a low roar brushing against someone’s ear before realizing who it was. The two met eyes and it was like a wave of dread washed over the room with y/n trying to remain unafraid, something that would only unfold in ways he never knew were possible. “A deal is a deal and I lost fair and square, what could I have done to make a difference?” “Steal a pair of shoes.” He added, walking into the room and allowing the doors to close with a loud bang as always. Watching y/n try so hard to be brave in front of him, like it will make a difference in it all. “I don’t steal from other sectors. I would’ve been taken much too early.” “And we would’ve had this part over with, don’t you think?”

His smirk was annoying, taunting at the most with a pleasure for this, he could see the anger trying to boil out, the rage of a cub trying to take on the bigger tiger to make a stand, but the cub knew better then to do so. It would mean death without fail. Hongjoong had walked closer, talking long strides over while watching y/n’s shoulders only get tenser and tender with each passing step. Till he was at their level, trying not to flinch as the general pushed some of the hair away from their eyes to be able to stare more directly into y/n’s eyes. “You have a sharp t tongue, something that can be toned to make people listen. But you don’t know when to let the venom sink in, you get too heated and tense, it’s almost like teasing a predator with their food. You give in too easily.” Hongjoong said, in a tone that was almost caring and gentle, something no one hears in public.

“But, as my partner, you’ll be able to learn when to let the drops of poison fall into the preys hands and watch them fight to survive. After all, you hav to learn how to survive me. And that’s never easy. Don’t you agree?” His eyes showed interest for once, but it was twisted, his hand was slowly wrapping around y/n’s neck and squeezing it, not enough to choke him but enough to make him gasp for air while still having a smaller airway to it. “I’ll break you so perfectly no one can put you back together, not even Choi can. You’re mine to ruin, mine to paint and mine to do as I please till, I know you’re ready. You’ll learn just like your friend will have to.”

“You’re insane general. You’re so twisted you think this will make me break? I will never.” Y/N spat back, trying to seem like he had some kind of control of the situation, but it was working, it will never work against someone like this. “Oh, but you already have my dear, you’re trying to get the high ground from me, trying to dig those baby fangs into my neck and let out venom but it’s nothing more then a tingle, a little feeling that fades away. Let me teach you.” He mentioned in a tone that no one could ever be certain was genuine, like eh would actually teach him how to be like him. Like yn would ever allow themselves to ever sink down to their level in such a way. “Now that your awake and well, we can finally start to plan things, who knows maybe even little yeosang can finally see you after having to wait so long to make sure you’re safe and sound, somewhat.”

“Y/N…” slowly turning around the two finally met after what felt like a week durning this time. Y/N was standing outside of the red gates, the look in their eyes was a mixture of dim bravery yet defeat at the same time. Wearing a simply red dressed stitched with gold jewels and bells that rang with each movement, the dress was made to fit and hug yeosang’s every curse and highlight every part that was visible for the public eyes to see, even yeosang’s birthmark under his right eye was shown for those to see but not to touch with their own hands. He was the only person allowed to visit y/n before the start of the wedding. This was the first time the two of them were meeting after so long of not ever being able to see each other due the situation. Y/N’s tired eyes reached yeosang’s own tired eyes. The bags were slightly hidden due to the blush and makeup from everywhere else. The dress was the color they requested, knitted by hand with purple with golden beads sewed into it, the front and back parts had traces of tiger claws in the designs with the gold shoulder pieces.

“We can run ourselves out of this situation, can we yeosang.” Y/N asked, seeing the look on his face answer the whole question without having to say a single word. “Y/N… of course we can’t. This isn’t out territory anymore. This is something not even I can help hide you from.” With hints of soft crackles in his voice, yeosang could only give you an air hug, since touching would mess with the dress and the jewels, and there is almost no time to fix them the way it needed to be fixed. “I have permission to walk and give you away, since we don’t have parents. But, it’s time to go. I hear the drums.” Yeosang stated, watching y/m slowly stand up straight and take a deep breath while facing the doors, watching them slowly open to revel a handful of people, the entire open yard was filled with people. Each section had a few people from every sector to witness this, and those from their sector were closer to the stairs, watching the two of them slowly walk closer and closer to the stairs.

Where jong-ho was waiting to walk the pair of them up further. The outfit Jongho wore was still black from the last time the two of them met. Since he still had to earn his own claws before getting his own suit of his choice. But he had his sword in its oba sha, tied with the golden thread before standing to the side, he had to walk behind the pair before he was allowed to do anything else for that manner. Each step was like a cracking echo within the silence that could never be drowned out no matter how many screams were heard trying to cover it. The only other sound was the drums and calls of a singer. Hongjoong had a grin no one could wipe of his face. Wearing a mixture of blue and red to match, showing the swirls of the colors that were chosen.

“Brave and prideful like a swan, yet as colorful as a poisonous creature, it’s beautiful.” With his infamous head tilt, he was enjoying this, letting his touch burn like fire while standing before those who can’t do anything about it knowing it would lead to their deaths within the hour, not even within the hour but within the seconds, no hesitation. Just a swift and quick execution for everyone to see. The vows were simply, after all, all they had to do was repeat after the emperor before it was time for the celebration between the two of them with a promise of yeosang and jongho maybe being the next ones to be wed, after a longer time period of course. Allowing the pair to be newlyweds just for a while longer and allow everyone to witness the transformation of someone they wanted to protect slowly turn into someone who grew claws and developed a taste for venom.

The celebration was grand with some trying to enjoy it, dancing to the music and quietly enjoying the food around them enough to try it forget why this was even happening within the first place. Yeosang and y/n were able to sneak away, not outside but just a place for themselves and not feeling the dead eyes of the ones who caught them in the first place. “You know, for a bastard that enjoys taunting he knows some good food choices for this.” Y/N mentioned while try eat the chicken, yeosang wanting to smack them but knew it was not the place to do so. Can’t have any watchful eyes trying to ruin their fun already. “What- you love chicken try it. I’m surprised you’re not trying to steal my piece of chicken just yet.” Yeosang could only roll his eyes before trying to take a bite. Letting the soft crunch ring in his mouth before giving y/n a light smack on the back, letting the two of them chuckle like before whenever they were teases to each other.

“I hate that you’re right and that you know I like chicken this much. You still owe me a piece of yours I hope you know that.” “Hey, you waited to late it’s almost gone!” “And I’m older than you let me have a piece!” The two kept trying not to laugh so much, this was one of the only ways they could still hav fun with each other and not feel like one of the others is slowly going insane without the other. It was hard to hide given their attire but if they could get the chance then why waste it? They needed up sharing some of the food with each other. Hanging over whatever piece of chicken had ripped off the bone and gave it to each other. “Gonna tell me if mister bear cub is vicious as he’s trying to live up to?” Curiously was getting the better of him. After all, everywhere he went, yeosang was following after and almost looked ashamed of it,

But it was like a secret, watching yeosang look around to see If either of them was around or looking for the two of them before speaking in a low voice. “You wouldn’t believe me when I tell you he doesn’t even allow himself to sleep in the same bed as me, let alone actually facing me whenever the maids get me dressed, he never looks if I don’t say anything. He still doesn’t!” it was like watching a pair of friends gossip and giggle about a crush that one of them have on someone. But of course, since yeosang doesn’t know what is true or what is an act is going to be fearful of what could happen within the walls between the two but of course this was still leaving y/n to be alone with someone who could tear them in two without any recourse whatsoever and still enjoy the screams of mercy and for help around him.

“Mister Choi and Mister Kim, the generals are waiting for you, it’s time to go.” One of the guards said, one that neither of them had much of a pleasure to meet, Choi San. Some believe that he was the older brother of jongho before learning that the two are actually from different families and different sectors. San being form sector 6, and jongho being from 5. Both with very different experiences when it came to certain things around them, but it was still fun to mess with people in public sometimes. SAN’s choice of clothes was different form most, he was known for wearing nothing more then a long black coat, showing off the ink markings he had written all over his body, not entirely but still enough to show. His chin was sharp, some say it was sharp enough to break a sword before it could kill him and that twisted look of pleasure in his dark brown eyes were strong enough for everyone to see and enjoy better then most.

“And who are you, exactly?” It slipped out of yn’s mouth, raising an eyebrow simply out of habit, watching a smirk appear on san’s face before standing up strength. “General of the west Choi San, some say I’m the shadow general. Now we can’t keep the bride and jongho waiting now, can we? You still have a duty to fulfill tonight, and he doesn’t like to wait much longer for it.” He answered, enjoying the realization hitting their faces at once leaning who they were talking to. Yeosang looking more embarrassed and looking away while standing up while San shook his head. “Now now don’t be embarrassed you two haven’t met me before. I was out of the walls and sending a message to one of the uprising empires, making sure they know who not to mess with, don’t you agree?” He still ha the smirk on his face before walking the two over to their respected partners. San didn’t have anyone to be with before bowing at the two of them and leaving, going to enjoy more drinks.

“How do you always manage to get the attention from those in stronger power when you’re being sassy?” Yeosang whispered, trying not to laugh when seeing y/n’’s face, the look of his lips and the look in his eyes, making yeosang look away while trying to make sure that nothing else was going to happen here. But it was safe for now. After all the two of them had made it to their parents and were able to stand there, feeling somewhat less tense since everyone was still here, giving a false sense of sec I try. “Now what has you grinning so much San? Already having fun with your drinks of choice?” Hongjoong asked, crossing his arms while San hummed, walking over to grab another drink of juice while shrugging his shoulders, making yn start to make another face while yeosang was trying to pinch their back. It was like two classmates looking at each other and trying not to laugh at something when the teacher is being serious about something.

“Just enjoying the night, after all we all know how the tonight will end with you two and to be quite fair, captain. I rather not be hearing that when trying to rest, we all I know it’s going to be a long while before any of us a can get some rest. Well, of course the emperor will be able to rest like nothing is happening, but the others aren’t a s lucky.” Hongjoong gaze slowly turned over to y/m who was trying to remain serious and not giving up. But their face was slowly turning into something when hearing how the night will go. It was the realization back to the real world and the current time. Once those two get into that room and their clothes are off there will be no resting for a while, only the sounds of the two newlyweds. “Goodnight captain, mister Kim.” San had given each of them their respected bows before Hongjoong slowly held y/n’s waist, guiding them back up the stairs to their own shared hallway that was soon to be changed to symbolize the two of them, and no longer just one being the general.

“You seemed to have enjoyed your time with yeosang, we couldn’t find you two for a while, I thought you tried to run again, dishonoring the deal now, were you?” It was a taunt, but also and honest question. After all the two of them were supposed to enjoy a dance before spilling, but as soon as Hongjoong let him go, y/n was nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t until he sent San to go and find the two that they were able to find them. Seeing them smiling and trying to hide more facial expressions with their friend yeosang but other then that, there was nothing that the two of them were doing. “I am a lot of things, but I can honor a deal. Besides, all we did was sit together and talk.” “What about, hm?” Opening the door, Hongjoong walked them walk in and instantly be surrounded by the butlers who helped y/n get dressed slowly start to undress his bride in front of him. Slowly starting with the jewels and hairpins before just slowly going down to the ears, the neck, the wrist, the waist and the ankles. Before very carefully and slowly raking off the dress. It was weird to y/n. He wasn’t allowed to wear a suit which is something he was used to and even envisioned for his own special day. But it was today where he was in a dress instead, something he was able to pull off better than he ever thought he could.

“Why does it matter to you? Need something to tear into my before you make me unable to leave this room?” Y/N was trying to be his old self while the dress was slowly being removed to revel what was under, which was just a loose white shirt with white jeans. It was a lot to have under something so delicately made but it also needed to be taken care of. It seemed those couple of days leading up to know was wearing off on them, or y/n was prepared for what was about to come, Turing over to see that Hongjoong was getting undress while the others were closing the windows. Locking them tight before leaving with the clothes, simply leaving them by themselves before the door was locked for the outside. All it took was that slight head tilt from the general, showing his sharp teeth with a wicked grin.

“Now now where’s that mouth now? You were so busy being sassy that you forgot your place? You’re my fucking cumsleeve from now on and I will fuck and fill every hole you have.” Hongjoong groaned out, keeping one of his hands tight on y/n hair while bucking his hips with no mercy. Looking down and seeing the tears building up in the males' eyes while he struggled to breathe. Gagging with each movement with sloppy sounds being muffled Because of the length that was inside of his mouth. Hongjoong was not small, despite his height and he wasn’t thin either. He was long, and he was thick. All he could listen to be the gags and muffled cries of the male below him before deciding it was time to yank the male's hair back. Listening to the gasp for airs from the male, the coughing and the cries along with the spit coming down their Jaw. His body was bare with no clothes whatsoever, they were thrown close to the door and would be left there. His shoulders and neck were almost covered in purple and red marks with some teeth marks here and there scattered across their shaking body.

Their eyes were getting red and filled with tears, were they tears of pain? Tears of pleasure? No one would know, because Hongjoong had pushed his dick right back inside of y/n’s sore and swollen mouth. He was redder than a cherry, at least his length was, his face was dripping with sweat, not a lot but it was getting there. His eyes were filled with lust and hunger and the smirk on his face was filled with pleasure. But of course, he wasn’t going to end the night here, no he wasn’t even letting himself release the way he wanted to. “Use your fucking hands you. I want to hear you gasping for hair while trying to breathe.” Yanking them back off and watching them get to work. Y/n used both their hands and was quick to jerk off Hongjoong, watching the burning red tip twitch while their face was covered in tears while they were panting simply trying to breathe before their eyes were closed, feeling the white strings jump t their face and hearing the loud groans.

“Please…Fuck…Please.” Y/N whispered not caring if Hongjoong could before just sucking on the tip of it, jerking off the rest with their eyes closed and broken moans while feeling Hongjoongs hands run through their hair before pulling them back on his lap. Watching them gasp and look down before leaning their head up t let Hongjoong suck on their neck, leaving more purple hickey’s. His hands were being rough while squeezing whatever he could grab while listening to the moans coming from above. It was like watching the yarn come undone from someone using it to sew something.

Y/N’s hops were moving on his own above the tip, pulling his neck away and looking down at the man. His eyes being filled with pleasure and want, meeting Hongjoong’s eyes filled with hunger and desire. “Oh? You want to be used little fucktoy? Is that all you can think of now is my dick inside of there with no prep? No nothing but my dick going inside of your tight fucking hole?” Hongjoong started, watching y/n quickly move their head but knew that he needed permission, and if he rushed he wasn’t getting it. “Then beg for it. Let me hear you crumble for it and you’ll be used the way you it.” It was the last push he wanted to give, something to hear y/n say before he was going to fully make them not only be a dangerous person but also someone who crumbles under his touch whenever they want, and wherever he wanted to have it.

“Sir please…please use this fucktoy that you clearly wanted so bad that you were willing to chase for. Fuck I’m so empty I just want to fill it- oh fuck sir!” Y/n cried, shaking more whilst being thrown on the bed, their head being forced down into the sweat covered sheets, his hips were being held up in the air before he felt the pain of something going inside of their ass. The look in their eyes, it was like watching their eyes go cross eyed while their knuckles were turning white while their head was being forced up by the man behind him, listening to the sound of their hips slapping against each other while hongjoongs groans were as loud as y/n’s moans pleads. “Gods if I could you pregnant I’d have so many children the others would have to prey me off of you and even then I will fill you up till I’m done. Understand me?” Hongjoong said, feeling his release come but his hips never stopped, even when he watched y/n’s body was crumbling and shaking more, trembling so much and yet the liquid was being spilled onto the sheets and close to the floor.

It was a beautiful sight that no one could ever see, capture of even mention and it made Hongjoong simply give a sloppy kiss to him. Their tongues were being entangled into each other with drool coming down their chins with the sweat being stuck to each other, letting the slapping sounds get louder, letting the thrust get faster and harder. Leaving y/n’s bum only to get redder and redder before the pair ended up coming undone once against. Both of their body’s shaking against each other before Hongjoong leaned up straight and watched some of the juices slowly pour out before he slowly pulled out, watching the rest slowly come out while y/n was twitching. His eyes were closed yet his tired and shaking hands was slowly keeping his ass apart.

“You got filled twice and you still want this dick?” Hongjoong answered, panting but pushing himself back inside before hearing the weak sound of a broken moan, pulling out and flipping y/n on their wet back before going back inside. Holding their legs by their thighs before folding them up to their shoulders. Making sure y/n was watching Hongjoong fucking them, watching their dick go inside and out with the wet sounds and some of the juices still going around while y/n was holding his ankles. Looking from the show before to the look in hongjoongs eyes, both of their eyes were filled wit lust and want before another wet and messy kiss was being taken place. It was driving them crazy before the two had released once again, but both of their bodies were tired, drained and not being able to even move. Y.N’s body had completely fallen against the bed while Hongjoong fell on top of him. The two of them were panting, covered in sweat and cum and wanting to rest. They can shower and clean up in the morning, but Hongjoong was still inside and ended up falling asleep just the way he was. After all, why would he leave this?

Extra:

The woods were quiet, nothing else was being heard and it was quiet anyone would’ve thought someone, or something had died, and this was the way of the forest to mourn the death of it. “You’re going well dear, but you need to keep your eyes dim, the more you have emotion in them, which gives you away.” Hongjoong answered, leaning against he trees while cutting an ample before hearing the sounds f the bushes rustling before looking back to see a bunny. Confused, but then looking up to see y/n kneeling down with a smile on his face. His clothes were black now, but they were still baggy, but it was comfortable and able to be silent better within the area. His hair was long to his waist, and it was still blacker than the night sky. Watching Hongjoong give a proud yet small smirk on his face before taking a bite of the apple, putting away his dagger before keeping his arms out. Watching y/n fall down into their arms and wrapping his leg around hongjoongs waist.

“I did it! I get to choose tonight’s feast, don’t I?” They asked, watching Hongjoong grieve a playful thinking look while carrying them back the walls. “Yes dear, you do. And no, it can’t be chicken just so you and yeosang can fight over the biggest piece.” Hongjoong added, watching y’n’s smile turn somewhat dark but still happy even. “Oh, don’t worried, it won’t only be fried chicken.” “Y/N Kim, I will fuck you against one of the tresses.” “Oh, that’s a treat!” Hongjoong only rolled his eyes before looking around, they were still far from the palace before giving y/n that look. Watching their eyes lit up before getting down and turning around, holding not a tree, their clothes were always made with a little cut in the back for Hongjoong to use whenever he saw fit. Hongjoong got closer and untied his ribbon some so his pants were slightly hanging down but enough for his length to pop out before pushing in from behind.

Watching Y/N’s eyes flutter close with a quiet moan leaving their mouth while listening to the soft sounds of their hips slapping, but it was also muffled because of the clothes. “Gods you're such a whore for my dick even out in the woods.” “You made me into the best cumsleeves you ever met now, didn’t you? Ooh, sir please just right there.” Biting their lip with their eyes still closed while Hongjoong smirked with a lip bite. The two of them were known for their sex drive, the two of them would even have little quickies like this before meetings and not caring if others heard or knew about it. “Fill me up the way you like!” The cried out a little louder before letting out a pleased sigh coming from the both of them. Feeling the cum slip inside and even trickling down y/n’s thighs before the two stood up. Smiling before enjoying a heated kiss, with only tongues being used while still trying to figure out what to eat.

#hongjoong #fantasy #seonghwa #ateez san #ateez smut #gayness #fanfic #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #yeosang #prey #mxm smut #mxm romance

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bokettochild · 9 months ago

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Febuwhump Day 21 - Unresponsive

@kuroro-uwu Okay, I know I am LATE, but I did write it! I hope this suits your fancy!

Wordcount: 6,697

Rating: General

Summary: Minish Four and Fairy Hyrule go on a mini-expedition to seek out information. One minute, all is well, and the next- well, Four's not sure WHAT happened, but now he's got a passed out fairy on his hands and no clue what caused it.

(No warnings, this is all pure fluff)

They needed information.

It really was as simple as that. They’ve been trying to learn anything they can about what’s happening to the worlds around them, but hylians are so often ignorant and their group is anything but subtle, so getting it without causing a stir has become something of an issue for the traveling heroes.

It’s the weapons and armor, Legend tells them with a huff, and he’s not exactly wrong either.

People do tend to become more wary when they see soldiers around in the country.

He’d noticed it before, back when he hadn’t yet met the others. Carrying a sword put people on edge. An axe, a spear, or even a bow, out in the country, can be excused as a hunting tool or something to do with your trade. A sword though, a sword means that you are, undeniably, a fighter, and fighters don’t tend to go about armed unless there's danger around to be fought. So, correlation of swords to nearby danger makes people wary, and their group, all armed with swords, and many of them being intimidating looking persons, only further sets people ill at ease.

Getting concrete answers from people who are questioning your intentions all the while isn’t easy, and by now, their group has sort of given up. Or rather, almost all of the others have; Four still has an ace up his sleeve.

“I may have something I can try.” He states as the rest seem just about ready to give up for the day.

Eyes turn to fix on him, various expressions of discouragement, frustration, disbelief, and exhaustion coloring the different shades of blue. It’s Legend that speaks though. “If it involves pretending to be a child, keep me out of it.”

Twilight coughs into his fist, but his dark eyes sparkle. Simultaneously, Warriors rubs at his own brows, the captain following up their scholar’s words with his own. “What’s the idea, smithy? And please, do not say it requires-”

“It’s a me thing,” he assures them. “You guys being around actually won’t work.”

“No one is going off alone,” Time states, just at the same time as Warriors says: “What did we say about leaving the group behind?” Both men shoot glances at each other after, but then Four’s fixed with both stares, one tired and one firm, and neither wavering as he sighs.

“It involves magic, and it won’t work with a second person.”

Wild stares, pointed, but Twilight frowns. “S it what I think it is?”

Abruptly, he remembers that Twilight does, in fact, know, and has known about this as long as he’s known the truth about the wolf. They hadn’t talked about it since, and he’s not exactly employed the magic since then, but Twilight had seen it all the same. “Yeah,” he nods, ignoring the confused looks from the others, “that thing.”

“More secrets,” the captain sighs, “excellent.”

A few eyes turn to the soldier, annoyed, but they can’t blame him. Four can’t either. It’s been a bit rough dancing around the new things falling on their heads when their brothers deem it the time to drop new knowledge out of nowhere. Even if he did know about the wolf, there’s still knowledge he hadn’t had about that one.

“I’ll go with the smithy,” their rancher announces, turning to their leader.

Time’s brows raise. “You have similar magic?”

“Naw, but I can keep watch for him, an’ guard his back.”

“No going off alone,” Warriors repeats, again, this time from behind a hand that’s scrubbing at his brows. “How may times must I say it?”

But Twilight can’t come with, and neither can the others. No one else can because no one else can shrink down to the size of a minish!

If there’s anyone who will know what's going on across the kingdom at any given time, it’s always the little people. He knows they can give him answers even if no hylian will, but he’s not too eager to explain that. The other heroes might not even know about the minish, and if they do, the doubt on whether or not he should be able to see them still will linger or make them question his skill like they do with the sailor. Neither option is something he’s keen on.

“I’ll go with,” and he doesn’t expect the traveler to speak up, but the other lad does, stepping forwards with an awkward half smile. “I’m decent with magic, so maybe I can replicate whatever you’re planning to do.”

Given the choice between no answers and letting Hyrule in on it, he supposes the traveler is the better of the two options. The other lad is cheeky at times, but he’s capable, and trustworthy. Besides that, he’s kept so much secret about his own magic, to the point where they still have no clue about all of it. Surely, he can also keep Four’s secret as well, right?

“Fine,” he nods to their curly haired companion before turning to their leader, expectant.

Time sighs, glancing briefly at the captain, but then nods. “Be back at camp by dark.”

“Understood.”

The good thing about working with Hyrule is that he’s good at following directions, and he never asks unnecessary questions. It’s clear he’s thinking them, of course, but he doesn’t talk too much, and he doesn’t push things with Four, not ever. It’s a bit of a welcome change of pace after having the heroes all up each others�� tails about so many things.

They wander back through the village for a short while and into the inn and bar combo they’d been to with the rest. He knows the other two probably want to know what he hopes to achieve in here, even Twilight who knows his arsenal probably isn’t sure how it would be useful, but that’s not his main focus.

They can ask their questions later. Right now, we need that portal.

Where was it again, Vio?

Left corner, floor level. Looks like a mouse hole.

Well, it sort of is. Red snorts softly. It’s a minish hole.

Very funny. Blue deadpans back. If he had his own eyes, he’d be rolling them, but all of Four knows it wouldn’t be in any real ire. That’s just how their more abrasive aspect is.

Twilight and Hyrule are watching as he moves down to the corner. The rest of the folks within the inn don’t seem to even notice the trio, too busy with their own business. Those that do are carefully avoiding eye contact or even being caught staring, wary less they draw attention to themselves. It’s kind of sad, honestly, but Four doesn’t have time to dwell on it.

Ezlo’s spell plays across his lips with the ease of a thousand speakings, and in seconds he’s down to his other normal size.

Twilight grins down at him.

Hyrule gapes for a moment. “Is this what you were talking about?” He asks, as though it’s not rather painfully obvious. Before Four can answer though, the traveler’s face twists up into a grin, eyes sparking. “Alright, I- I can work with this.”

It’s his own turn to gape as the traveler himself mutters a few words, and in a brief cloud of magic, the young man is gone, replaced instead by the shimmering, hovering light of a fairy.

Four stares. Twilight does as well.

The ball of light laughs. “You said it yourself, we’re all sitting on something, smithy.”

“Ordonia’s kids,” the rancher murmurs softly, “’fore we know it everyone will out ‘emselves as a shifter of some sort.” Neither of the other two have any knowledge of how true that rings, but regardless, they don’t exactly have any grounds to deny it either, considering it seems to be true of their little trio at least.

Finally reclaiming control over speech, Four turns his face upwards to stare at his flying brother. Inside his head, Red is exclaiming in delight over the flight, Blue marveling at the wings, and Green ecstatic at the presence of a fellow shifter to match Four’s size, but outside his head, he has to focus. “This hole here should lead to a community of people more on the magical side.” he nods to the gap in the wall, starting a bit when the fairy’s light flickers and zips down to be level with him.

It’s definitely Hyrule, although the change from Hylian to fairy is more than just a shift in size. He’s not sure which set of eyes to focus on or how to react to other definitely not hylian features displayed beside familiar ones, but Vio somehow wrests enough control to keep his face straight and his jaw in place.

“It might take a bit, but the gossip vine is strong with these folks. They should have what we want to know.”

“Excellent,” Hyrule trills, voice more melodic, but pleasantly so. It has the smithy’s ears flicking forwards to catch it better, the warm fairy magic settling his own.

He glances up to Twilight, still normal sized and crouched in the corner, practically looming over them. “We’ll be back before dark. Just wait here, okay?”

A thumbs up is their answer, and the rancher stands, hailing a server in the barroom and claiming the table closest to their future exit as the two smaller heroes- and by now they are much smaller- pop through the hole in the wall to move along to their destination.

Minish passages are nothing new to Four, but Hyrule keeps gasping in surprise and delight as he looks about the lever and pulley systems between one part of the network and another. It has the smithy smiling to himself, and while it’s not his own work, he does take pride in the efforts of his little friends, and their skill, which he’s sure to share with the only other hylian (sort of hylian?) to get to see it firsthand.

“Inns like this are hotspots for minish too, just like people,” he explains to his wide-eyed companion. “They catch rides on wagons or in people’s bags sometimes, and, just like us, they need a place to stay when they tire.” He pads along carefully to the lift made from an old cup and some twine, climbing up into it and almost reaching out to offer a hand to the traveler, only to catch himself when he remembers the other has wings. “A big place like this is sure to house practically a city of minish, so it might take some time, but we’ll have lots of options when it comes to asking around for information.”

The traveler nods, gaze flicking to the little lever just inches from the smithy’s tiny paw. The signal is clear.

Four pushes the lever, and the lift starts its ascent, the fairy flying up behind him even as they watch another such lift lower, granting Hyrule his first sight of a real minish. The traveler’s catching breath and little gasp makes him smile, but he’s careful to warn the other the moment the other lift is out of sight. “Remember not to call anyone cute, okay? If anything, be prepared for them to call you that. They're not very used to fairies.”

“Understood,” the traveler’s voice is distant as he looks around, words almost an afterthought as he seemingly takes in the whole of the new world he’s discovering.

He won’t be much help, will he?

He’s here so we’re not alone, Green sighs, although there’s no lack of fondness in his tone, He doesn’t need to help us, just be here so Time and Warriors won’t get upset.

He won’t be able to understand the minish anyway, the more sedate aspect reminds the others, he’s never eaten a jabber nut.

Right.

Perhaps he should have remembered that earlier, but he wasn’t exactly planning on taking Hyrule this far along when he’d agreed to keep the traveler with him. If anything, he’d expected the other to wait with Twilight while he took care of the reconnaissance. Still, it should be alright, Hyrule seems content to stare about at the thrumming new world he’s witness too, and he lets Four take the lead as the smithy climbs out of the lift and starts towards the minish puttering about.

Greetings rise here and there and everywhere, although no one seems to recognize him. If anything, that proves they’re not in his era, so even the small things mean something (as a small thing himself, the thought makes him laugh). Still, he guides the way, Hyrule fluttering after him and attracting many a startled stare. In the long run, he thinks Hyrule’s presence works to his favor, because while a minish stopping by at an inn and wandering about a new place is hardly anything to look twice at, a minish with a fairy trailing after him garners much attention, and before they know it, a very elderly looking member of the community approaches. The staff in his paw marks him as an Elder, and while the traveler doesn’t know that, he still bows his head politely at the sight of long flowing whiskers.

“Greetings, strangers.” The elder smiles.

Four bows, politely. Hyrule cannot, not while flying, but he thinks the respectful bob of the head the traveler offered will be enough. Minish are polite, but they aren’t fussy about others needing to be so. Well, those who aren’t Ezlo. “Greetings, elder.”

“Greetings, elder.” Hyrule mimics, words a soft chime that echos off the interior of the inn’s walls.

The elder smiles again, thanking them for their kind welcome. “Forgive my asking, but what is it that brings two youngsters like yourselves here?”

“We seek knowledge of the world outside.” Four answers, because obviously Hyrule can’t. “We are travelers through time, and this era is new to us.”

“Ah.”

“We have hylian companions who need knowledge in order to travel safely, so we hoped to come here and inquire what there is to be known of the world outside.”

His explanation is met with some surprised twitching of noses and flicking of ears, little murmurs all around them, excitedly twitching tails flicking all sorts of colors from the many gathered minish peoples, but he pays them little mind, although Hyrule stares about in awe. The elder welcomes them though to speak to any they would like. “I have not been in the outside world for some time now, but we have many travelers, like yourselves. Please, ask all you would like. I hope we are of aid to you young heroes.”

It’s only when he’s watching the elder’s tail disappear into the crowd again that he realizes at all that they should not have been recognized as heroes. Then again, Minish Elder’s are proficient in magic most times, and maybe he’d sensed it. At any rate, the title seems to spark excitement among those gathered around the two heroes, and it’s no trouble at all to find who he should speak to. In fact, it’s more a matter of them trying to speak to him all at once!

Hyrule hovers at his shoulder as he asks questions and talks. Well, he does at first, but after a few minutes, the fae drifts away, looking around curiously, soft chiming voice echoing back to Four here and again from different parts of the space claimed by magic.

He’s able to learn there’s no hero known about in this era, and that the last one that anyone remembers was a little boy who was close to the fairies. Considering the fondness all his brothers have for all creatures magical, it’s not a very specifical descriptor, but it’s something at least. Maybe one of the others will be able to pinpoint who it is talking about, be it themselves or someone else they’ve heard of. He does learn though, that the world isn’t in the best of shapes. Dark magic is common, a side effect of Ganon’s power, despite the fact that the monster is sealed away.

That, he decides to ask about.

Most of the minish don’t have answers, saying they avoid it, saying they only heard it from someone else, but pressing them leads him on a bit of a goosechase all over the building, looking for this person who knows more and that one who does as well.

Like hylians, minish have many a trade, and a place like this is basically their equivalent to a trade city, even if the hylian town around it is rather small. Packed up in one building, but spread across rooms, attic spaces, the cellar, the larder, and even the bar itself, he finds himself hunting down leads and doing a few favors in order to get what he needs to know. He's halfway through delivering some mushrooms in exchange for more details on the dark magic that apparently lies around the world, when Hyrule’s soft glow returns to his side again.

“Four, I think we need to head back.”

He sighs. “I know, but I’ve got a lead.”

“We could come back tomorrow?”

A shake of the head as he adjusts his hold on the mushroom; it’s huge in comparison to himself. “No, apparently they’re leaving at dawn with the coach that stops here.”

Hyrule’s feet touch the ground, wings stilling. Honestly, he thought fairies flew everywhere, but he supposes that a shapeshifter might use various methods. “Four, we have to go back.”

“I’m this close to getting answers,” he drops his shroom to pinch two claws close together. “Just a bit longer, okay? Time will understand.”

He’s not sure what time it is, but the noise of patrons in the inn does carry slightly past the magic of the minish to sound in his ears. Inns and bars are always noisy, especially when combined, but while he’s not their old man, his inner clock isn’t bad either. They have time before sunset, and if they didn’t, he wouldn’t have risked trying this at all.

“Come on,” he urges. “Help me with this shroom. The sooner I deliver it, the sooner this guy will tell me what I need to know.”

Hyrule’s face is pinched, and briefly it registers that something isn’t quite right about it, but it’s hard to tell with changed features and maybe it’s just worry from the traveler. He dismisses it, promising both Hyrule and himself that they’ll only take a very little bit longer.

They deliver the shroom, but in true runabout fashion, the only knowledge he gets from the minish in question is a few wary words that had been heard from someone else entirely, and he’s sent darting across the inn again to try and find that other minish before they too decide to leave. It’s the frustrating thing about communities like this, rather than the ones he finds in the countryside. Minish who make their homes in the forest, the grass, or even up in the mountains and quarries, they all keep to their own space. Traveling minish, those in small towns and hylian communities, are often unpredictable from one day to the next, and there’s no telling when or where you’ll have a chance to see them.

Hyrule tries asking again, telling him that they really need to get going, but Four brushes him off. One or two minutes more. Just a bit. He’s almost done, he promises!

The traveler’s feet are dragging a bit as he follows the smith, and his wings have long since folded against his back. It’s clear he’s tired, and Four is too, but they’ve only got so many chances to learn what they need to know, and passing this up would be foolish. It would make this whole trip into the world of the minish utterly pointless!

Finally, though, he’s able to find someone who doesn’t send him on an errand, who doesn’t ask for anything he doesn’t already have and who is both willing and capable of answering his questions. Near immediately, Four dugs a notebook from his bag and starts asking. How strong is this dark magic? Has it affected any monsters? Have monsters been a prominent problem recently? Are they acting oddly? Does the magic have any effects on anything else?

The minish, who in an odd way reminds him of Time; a prominent scar running over one eye and with a shredded ear on the same side, answers his questions. The magic effects the water and the land, and monsters are more abundant now than they had been years ago. They get worse every year, and they are stronger than the elders say they used to be. None of it lines up with the supposed infection of the monsters in other eras, but Four is not ruling it out as a possible source or contributor. He keeps asking, getting more details, channeling his more pragmatic self, but also the tactful part. He needs to think of this as a traveler, a fighter, and a survivor. In a way, he tries asking what Legend or Warriors or Twilight might ask. What would Wild want to know? What would Time need answers too? He’s going to be the one passing on this information to them after all, so he needs to be ready for the inevitable questions they’re going to have.

He sort of forgets that Hyrule is still waiting for him. Really, the only reason he remembers at all is because his informant tells him that it’s getting late, and she can’t think anymore. “That should cover everything anyway, I hope it helps.”

He bows his head, still sitting, so he can’t offer a proper bow, even though he wants to. “Of course. Thank you so much for your help.”

She waves a farewell to him before heading off to wherever it is that she’s going to rest for the night. He’s seen beds around, but didn’t ask, and never does. Honestly, he should be heading back, because bed sounds fantastic right about now! He turns, stuffing his notebook back in his bag, only to stop short when he sees the traveler.

Hyrule looks like shit.

The fairy is slumped over, glow almost gone and while there’s no apparent injury, no sign of what on earth would cause him to look so, he looks a bit like death! The smith drops down beside his friend, catching the fae’s face in his hands and patting freckled cheeks cautiously. “Hyurle? Hey! Hey, I’m done. We can go back now.”

There’s no answer.

Despite knowing Hyrule was fine before, knowing the minish would never harm him, probably couldn’t without special magic, he still gives the other a once over. There are no visible injuries, nor blood. His eyes, when pried open with claws that struggle so hard not to slip, don’t show signs of being concussed. For all intents and purposes, Hyrule isn’t hurt, but his skin is pale, the fairy’s glow is absent, and he slumps almost lifelessly against the walls.

We need help. Green sighs, desperately trying to balance his thoughts.

Blue’s voice is low, straining. The elder?

Is he going to be okay?

Hush Red, and Blue, the elder can’t do anything for a fairy. Minish magic is too different.

Well, we could try at least!

Guys, please. No fighting. We need to focus on Hyrule.

Blue seethes, but doesn’t argue, something he’s been doing much better with as of late. Vio on the other hand, does continue his stance. We should take him back to Twilight. Maybe he can help.

But Twi doesn’t like magic!

But he is Time’s kid, and he loves fairies. Maybe he knows something about them that we don’t. Come on.

The logic of his logical facet wins over the rest of him, and for lack of a better course of action, the minish hero hefts his fairy brother up into his arms. Hyrule’s still bigger than him like this, but he’s also always been very light, and the smith is strong. Gathering his brother up onto his back, careful not to crush iridescent wings, he heads back for the lift.

Catching Twilight’s attention is hard, once they’re back out in the world of Hylians. His intent originally had been to shift back with a murmur, but he doesn't know how to trigger the change for Hyrule, and without a glow to aid him, he’s not sure how quickly he’d be able to find the traveler again after the shift to his normal size, which always leaves him just a bit disoriented. That, and if it turns out Hyrule needs help of the more hands-on sort, it’s more practical to stay on the same scale as the traveler in order to give it.

Luckily for him, and the traveler, he has lots of experience in trying to make himself heard, and while the sound of a screaming voice would definitely draw unwanted attention, there is a sound he knows will, without fail, catch the rancher’s attention without scaring other people. Four sucks in a breath, and with all the ability he’s got in him, he pushes it out in a sharp little ‘meow’.

Twilight’s ears prick up immediately, the rancher lowering the drink he was holding to scan the area around him, eyes glittering.

Four tries again, a soft ‘mew’ that takes every bit of breath he has but has bright blue eyes fixing on him in seconds.

Twilight chuffs, looking slightly disappointed, but also relieved. Well, until his eyes land on the traveler, and then the man is sliding from his chair to crouch, facing the wall and shielding the two small heroes from sight. “What happened?” he asks, offering a hand laid flat on the ground before them.

Typically speaking, Four does not care to be picked up, especially like this, but for the traveler’s sake, he allows it. Stepping onto the rough pads of the rancher’s fingers is a bit of a struggle with his hands supporting the fae slumped over his back, nd after failing twice he gives up. Instead, he turns and carefully lets his brother slip down into Twilight’s hand first, crawling after him once he’s got use of his hands again.

The rancher waits until they’re both stable, Four holding Hyrule with one hand and fisting a tiny fold of his glove with the other, before he stands again, carefully steady as he heads back to his table. “Is he okay?”

Four shakes his head. “I don’t know. He’s not injured, and I don’t think he’s concussed, but he just-” his gaze drops down to the freckled face cradled in his lap, “-I turned around and he wasn’t moving anymore.” Breathing, yes, softly and slowly, almost too slowly, but it was steady, and considering he doesn’t know how fairy bodies work, maybe that was how it was meant to be. He’s not sure, and he hates not knowing, but as long as Hyrule is still breathing, things will be okay. Goddesses, he hopes he’ll be okay!

Glancing up at the rancher, he sees furrowed brows and a harsh frown. It’s not angry, not fierce, but guilt plummets through him all the same as he watches it.

There’s silence for a spell, just blue eyes staring down at him as he sits in the rancher’s hand, Hyrule pulled into his lap, wings still behind him without so much as the slightest of twitches. The traveler’s breath is shallow but steady as it puffs against his collar. And then Twilight speaks. “Did he maybe touch something weird?”

He shakes his head. “I wasn’t watching him, but this Hyrule, not Wild.” Hyrule doesn’t touch unknown things, not without taking every precaution to ensure they’re not dangerous. Besides, minish don’t tend to keep anything dangerous around, and if they do, it’s well hidden and out of sight. Even lacking experience with other living beings, Hyrule isn’t the sort of person to go poking around other people’s possessions in plain sight. No, he’d wait until no one was around to see or stop him, and then he’d get into their stuff.

The rancher’s frown deepens, but then midnight blue eyes are falling on Four again, something almost apologetic in their depths. “Look. I don’t got a clue, smith, but we gotta get him help.” The unspoken rings in the air between them: ‘we need to talk to someone else who knows about this stuff, and that means telling them your secret’.

He sighs, nodding. “Time seems to know the most about fairies.”

The rancher’s head jerks in a sharp nod, rupees hitting the table as the man pays for his drink and then he’s whisking them out the door and back towards camp.

It feels like it takes forever for Twilight to return with Time.

Rather than announce their presence, and thus secrets, to the whole chain, he’d carefully settled the two tiny heroes on an old tree stump at Four’s instruction. Vaguely, he thinks it might be a minish portal, or close to one, but that’s something to worry about later. For now, he’s looking after Hyrule as best he can in a cave made from the rancher’s pelt, erected for their protection against any predators while the other fetches their leader under the premise of Hyrule and Four needing to talk with him. The rest will worry, and have questions, but they’ll (probably) respect the privacy of the other two, if only as long as they’re gone. Returning to camp will, no doubt, come with questions, but right now, helping Hyrule is what matters most. He’ll handle anything that comes after, as long as the traveler will be okay.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs into brown curls, not for the first time since Twilight left, “just hang in there, traveler, okay? Time will be here soon, and we’ll get you all fixed up.”

He dutifully ignores how dark hair darkens further in the fading light of twilight. How the hand that's fallen to brush his leg has claws at the fingers, that as the shadows grow longer, he could almost pretend he’s holding somebody else. No, he focuses on Hyrule and that it is, in fact, Hyrule he’s clutching ahold of under the fur, waiting for their leader to come to them.

Time’s puffing breath announces his presence, alongside heavy feet to match the easy lope of their rancher. The way that he heaves for breath, he really does sound like an old man, but when the fur is moved aside and Four can see their leader’s face, he rethinks that. Time looks worried, terribly worried, and the heavy breathing is probably from a slight panic rather than anything else. Hylia above, what did Twilight tell him?

“What happened?” Time demands, even as Four shivers slightly at the return of the breeze the fur had blocked off.

He sighs, tired, worried, and tired of being worried. “Hyrule collapsed. I don’t know why, but he’s not waking up no matter what I do.”

The blue arrow painted between their leader’s brows distorts as his face pinches up, the man dropping to a knee with surprising grace in order to be better level with the two shrunken heroes. “Is he injured?”

Twilight shakes his head. “Four already checked.”

A hand, slightly smaller than Twilight’s own, but somehow more callused, is extended towards them. Even that motion is more graceful from their old man than from the rancher, and Four is surprised by the lack of panic having it settle before him causes. “Let me look at him?”

It’s work to climb up again, shifting Hyrule with all the care he can before depositing him in the old man’s palm, but he does it. Time doesn’t say anything as the man pulls in their precious cargo a bit closer, staring down with his good eye and prodding gently at the fallen form of the traveler.

Behind him on the stump, Four feels Twilight settle, blocking off the breeze and providing a wall of warmth that assures nothing else will appear behind him. “Well?”

“Shh.” Time breathes, but it’s not harsh. His gaze is incredibly gentle in fact, and as he handles the tiny form in his hand something impossibly warm lights his blue eye beneath the worried furrow of his brows. They wait. It feels like forever, but they wait, and they don’t press until, at last, their leader lifts his eyes to them instead, relief coloring his expression. “Magical exhaustion.”

“No,” Four shakes his head. “I’ve seen Hyrule overuse his magic. He gets tired, but he doesn’t turn.... grey. And he doesn’t stop moving!”

“That’s when he’s a hylian,” one blue eye drops again, a sad little smile tugging at the mouth of the elder man. “As a fairy, it works differently.” The hand lowers, moving close to Four again, offering him the responsibility of taking back his unconscious brother while Time turns his attention to his bag. “Transformation magic takes a lot out of a fairy. For Hyrule, being a fairy would be the transformation, but if, for some reason, he’d been brought into a space where only tiny beings could exist, rather than changing back when his magic runs out,” the potion’s cork pops loudly in the night air, “he’d get stuck.”

“Stuck?” He and Twilight chorus together.

Time nods. “Yes. His magic knows he can’t change back inside a tiny space, but if it’s run out, then he can’t maintain his form normally either. Instead, he has to draw directly on his magical core, which strains him considerably. That’s why usually, when fairies are weak enough to need to pull on their core, they slip into a hibernation so that their magic can keep them alive at the least cost to their core.” As if sensing the inevitable question, the man adds, “drawing on a core for too long damages it.”

“So...” Twilight blinks, speaking for them both. “He’s in hibernation?”

“For now.”

“How do we fix it?” Blue takes the reins, and the others let him.

The old man raises the potion bottle in his hand. In the faded light, Four can’t make out the color (how appropriate) so he waits to hear it spoken. “A green potion ought to help restore his magic and stop him drawing on his core for survival.”

“Then he’ll change back?”

He sees their leader wince, and Twilight does too, shoulders tightening above him. “He will change back, right, old man?”

Time avoids their gazes, reaching for his bag again. “Not without doing it himself, but he should, yes.”

“Good.”

“We just have to wait until he wakes up.”

“And...how long will that take?”

A flinch. “Even with his magic restored, it’s unlikely he’ll come back immediately. He’ll need time.” If Legend were here, or Wild, one of them would point out that their leader is here now, so what else could be needed? But they’re not here, and neither Twilight nor Four speaks up in their place. Instead, Four stares as Time produces something else, settling it before him carefully, before lifting his hand away. With nothing blocking him, he’s able to see that the object set before him is a thimble, “I think you ought to help him with the potion, Four. At his current size, we’re more likely to harm than help.” Which isn’t true at all.

In reality, Time helps quite a bit as he pours out the potion (that they all claim is green) into the thimble, which is far more manageable for Four to lift. Situating the traveler against his front, he has to fumble a bit to get the rim to his brother’s mouth, but Time’s finger helps steady the traveler while he does so, stopping him sliding away from the smithy’s front or his head falling to either side. It’s awkward, when he actually stops to think about it, but they make it work.

After the first thimble, Time pours three more, which is honestly more than Four thinks he could hold in his own body at this size, but the old man assures that it’s basically liquid magic, and the traveler will need lots in order to wake again. “Four thimbles might not be enough, but we’ll see.” He tells them, once more taking the traveler in his own hold, hand cradling the limp form of the fairy with all the care he’d show a baby. More, maybe. Fairies are smaller than babies, so they are a bit more delicate.

“What now though?” He asks, watching.

Time’s gaze falls on him in answer. “Do you need help shifting back?”

“Should I?”

“If you can.”

“And if he needs more of the potion?”

“He won’t,” the hand holding his brother tilts slightly, although Time needs not lower it at all for Four to see the faint shimmer of green light that the fairy within is emitting. “I think that was enough. I’ll have him drink the bottle when he’s changed back, but you don’t need to help any further, smithy.”

He nods.

Finding a portal in the dark takes some help from Twilight, but once he has, and has shifted back, it’s a breath of fresh air. Returning to their leader’s side though, he finds the man now seated on their previous stump, gaze fixed on the tiny, unmoving, but also unwavering, glow in his hands.

“Is he waking up?” He asks, slipping from Wolfie’s back to stand at their leader’s side. At this size, Hyrule looks even tinier, and so much more breakable in Time’s big hand. He’s not moving though, still.

Time shakes his head though, as though the smithy can’t see for himself. “As I said, he’ll need a while to come around.” Blue lifts, and it’s strange to have their leader level with himself. “You boys should head back to camp. Dinner will be ready soon.”

“What about you?” Shadows slip free of the wolf, leaving the rancher standing in it’s place, brows furrowed and voice low.

Time’s gaze drops to his precious cargo, a tiny, almost tender smile touching his features. “I’ll wait for him. Tell the rest that Hyrule needed my time a bit longer, but we’ll be back when he’s ready.”

So, they do.

They head back to camp, joining the others for dinner just as Wild’s beginning to serve it. There are questions, and he still is yet to make his report, but doing so is a quick way to divert attention from their absent leader and wanderer. Later, Time will come back, a sleepy, but normal sized Hyrule curled in his arms, face buried against his chest as the traveler dozes, but for now, the camp muses over the information they were given. Any questions on how he’d gotten this knowledge are lost to worry about Hyrule’s absence, and any fear for Hyrule is lost to questions about the report Four gives.

When Time does come back, it’s only after Warriors has assigned shifts and most of them have at least pretended to go to bed. Their leader’s return has them all watching though, no longer pretending as their eyes, so many shades of blue, follow Time’s path through camp to his bedroll, to Hyrule’s settled beside it at Warriors behest. The man settles the traveler down carefully, but the hand caught in his tunic isn’t pulled free, instead tolerated as long hair is brushed back from freckled cheeks and their leader settles down beside the younger hero.

Even when his good eye slips shut, there’s something warm playing on Time’s face as Hyrule unconsciously nestles up against him once more, and a callused hand becomes lost in dark curls.

Twilight’s gaze meets his own, something like a smile in them as he shrugs, disrupting his blanket. Four just smiles back, shaking his head. Fairy boys, the unspoken thought flickers in both of their heads. It’s only when he lays down again though that he realizes that Time might even be who the minish meant when talking about the last hero.

Well, that would make sense. He’ll ask tomorrow though, right now, he has no interest in disturbing either of the two heroes.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #ketto writes #febuwhump #febuwhump 2024 #lu four #lu hyrule #lu twilight #lu time #fairy hyrule #minish four #fluffic

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on-my-vigilante-sht · 2 years ago

Text

Capitol Punishment IV

Haymitch x Reader

Summary: The Capitol continues to torture it’s victors no matter how long ago they won through punishment, exploitation, and worst of all; their relationships.

A story in which Haymitch’s lover is a plaything for the Capitol.

Warnings: Canon level violence, rape (though never explicit), alcohol, murder, systemic poverty, exploitation, rebellion (?), more reliance on movie than book, suicidal thoughts

Word Count: 3.9K

Part III | Masterlist | Part V

Your head rested on Haymitch’s lap as you stoically watched the girl from District 1, Glimmer, kill the girl from District 4.

As the careers began to walk away, Haymitch took the remote, shutting off the feed. “Hey!” you protested.

“You’ve seen enough— we’ve both seen enough,” he insisted. “Y/N we watch these games every year and have to endure seeing our kids get slaughtered. And you get upset every time.”

“But these kids have an actual shot at winning!” you insisted. Both were already adored by the Capitol and Peeta, being the son of a baker and having the strength to show it, resembled the careers more than previous District 12 tributes. As for Katniss, she was a hunter and a survivalist. If she could get her hands on the bow Glimmer was fumbling with, the odds of this game would drastically change. “You don’t need to protect me like I’m a child.”

“I’m just trying to protect you because I love you and it hurts me to see you hurt.”

You stopped, unable to respond to that. He was right, every year you invested in these kids and no matter what, whether they ignore your advice or not, the end up dead and it was taking its toll on you. A toll only Haymitch saw because you refused to show weakness to anyone who may hold power over you.

Before you could respond the elevator dinged open and Effie fluttered into the penthouse. “Haymitch! Y/N! Haymitch! Y/N!” she squawked. “Turn on the games!”

Annoyed yet confused, Haymitch complied. Your eyes widened as you saw what was happening. Katniss was running through a forest fire. You audibly gasped when you saw a fireball be launched at her, sending her to the side. You held on tightly to Haymitch’s sleeve as the fire continued to surround her, a projectile burning her at one point.

The gamemakers’ disaster didn’t end until she jumped into a small pool of water. Unfortunately for Katniss her relief didn’t last long before the careers spotted her. Glimmer was the first to spot her, pointing and shouting. The others began to shout after her, running towards Katniss with smiles as if they were hunting turkeys. Peeta followed after them, carrying a spear, looking reluctant.

Katniss looked exhausted but she made her way out of the pond, running into the forest until she found a big tree. You held your breath as she scaled the tree and the careers approached. Fortunately she was a couple feet up in the air by the time the careers reached her.

Cato, from District 2, began climbing the tree after her but broke a branch only a couple steps up. And by now Katniss had settled on a thick branch about 70 feet in the air. A camera locked in on Peeta’s face, showing his concern for his years long crush.

“I got this,” Glimmer declared, notching an arrow. Judging by the clumsiness of her movements she wasn’t very experienced with it. She aimed up at Katniss, releasing the arrow which missed her by a long shot.

“Why don’t you throw the sword,” she taunted, eliciting a laugh from Haymitch.

“Got any ideas, loverboy?” Cato snarled.

“Why don’t we just wait her out?” he suggested. “It’s either she comes down or starves to death.” The careers all looked surprised, as if a non-violent strategy had never occurred to them. Seeing as that was the only real viable option, they began to set up camp.

The camera turned up to Katniss who by now was settled on her branch, assessing her burn wound. You cringed at her pained expression as she tried to soothe the burn. “Haymitch she’s going to die of infection if she doesn’t get medicine.”

“I know,” he said, already standing up. “I’m going to kiss come Capitol ass.” You stood up with him but he quickly stopped you. “No, Y/N I love you but this will put you right in their palms.”

Grateful for Haymitch’s concern for you, you cupped his jaw gently, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “Thank you,” you whispered.

“I’ll go with him,” Effie said, scrambling to the elevator with him.

Once they reached a viewing room for the sponsors Haymitch grabbed two glasses of champagne. Spotting a sponsor who was intently staring at the screen, and more importantly, not speaking to anyone else, he headed over. “She’s a tough one,” Haymitch caught the man’s attention. “Kind of ironic that the girl on fire got burned. Champagne?” he offered the peacock of a man.

With a smug look he took the glass. “Haymitch Abernathy, Katniss is yours right?” he asked, gesturing to the screen.

“Yeah she is. Gotta say it’s really nice to have two kids make it this far.”

“Ah right, loverboy is also yours,” the man chuckled. “Let me guess, you want medicine for Katniss.”

Haymitch smiled dryly. “Yes, she needs it. I’ve seen what your medicine can do and once she’s healed up, she’ll be back in the game stronger than ever.”

“Is she half as ruthless as Y/N L/N was?”

Inside Haymitch froze at the mention of your name but seeing as the man didn’t talk about you further, he pushed through it. “Half is a good estimate,” Haymitch laughed. “What I can tell you is that she’s a provider for her family and she’s got that sweet little sister she volunteered for back home. If anyone has a reason to get out of that arena, it’s her. She’s got no one else to take care of her family.”

The man thought for a second, nodding before reaching out his hand to Haymitch. “You’ve got a deal. 200 for the medicine and I’ll place a thousand on her to win.”

Haymitch grinned eagerly, shaking his hand too. “Thank you, I appreciate it.” Haymitch ensured that the man reached the betting/sponsor booth to get the medicine to Katniss before turning towards the elevator, intent on heading back to you.

“The Victor of District 12.” A hand clamped onto his shoulder along with the words stopped Haymitch in his tracks. He turned, finding a man with orange skin and bright red hair, grinning at him.

“Can I help you?” Haymitch asked as kindly as possible.

“I wanted to ask about Y/N L/N, the other District 12 victor.”

Haymitch tried to swallow his disgust. “What do you want to know?”

“Is she available anytime soon? A friend of mine got a taste of her, said she felt heavenly. I wanted to give it a try, take her for a spin, you know,” he laughed. “See if she’s tighter than Capitol girls.”

At that comment Haymitch couldn’t hold it in any longer. Seven years of watching you be used and abused were released in a single punch, sending the man to the ground. Before Haymitch could kill the redhead, peacekeepers were dragging him out of the room. “Keep her name out of your fucking mouth!” he yelled.

He was dragged off into a van and then had a bag placed over his head.

He wasn’t sure how far he went, only that he was manhandled out of the van until he was stood in a building. When they pulled the bag from his head he realized just how screwed he was.

“Hello, Haymitch,” President Snow smiled evilly.

“Y/N! Haymitch has been arrested!” Effie burst into the room.

“What?”

“He punched a man. Come on, we have to find him,” she said, tugging on your arm. You were surprised that she was so eager to help Haymitch but went along with her.

You rode the elevator down but as soon as the doors opened you were met with Peacekeepers. “Y/N L/N, please come with us.” Figuring they’d take you to Haymitch, you followed them, not screaming in protest for once.

You were placed in a luxurious car, Effie having been barred from coming with you. She was currently shrieking, demanding to know what was going on but you just ignored her, eager to get to Haymitch.

The car drove you a couple blocks down the street before you reached a very grand building. The President’s building. You were led inside and up the stairs to Snow’s office which you had only been in once before. The grand doors opened, revealing Haymitch kneeling on the ground, facing Snow with a gun pointed at him. “Y/N how nice of you to join us,” Snow welcomed.

You ignored him, lunging at Haymitch until a peacekeeper caught you around the waist. “Let him go,” you protested. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“He punched a man in the face. That’s punishable by death for the district citizens.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach. “Please don’t, I’m begging you. I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” a man with orange skin and bright red hair, stepped in from the side of the room. He had on a devilish and excited expression. Despite his fire spirit like appearance, you hadn’t noticed him. Too focused on Haymitch and Snow.

“Yes, anything,” you agreed. “If you want me you can have me. Please just let him go.”

“Y/N-”

“That’s not up for you to decide,” Snow cut Haymitch off. “Whatever punishment must be fitting for Mr. Abernathy’s crimes. Whether you take the punishment or he does. Mr. Summer, what do you think?”

“I think a whole night with Mr. Abernathy’s district partner would be fitting,” he said smugly, sporting a black eye.

“I’ll do it,” you eagerly agreed.

By now the gun has been put away and Haymitch was turned to face you. “Y/N you don’t have to.”

“No I’m not going to let you be killed. Especially when I only have to spend the night with someone. I’ve been doing that for the past seven years for nothing. Right now it’s actually worth something. Please let me do this for you,” you were begging.

Haymitch looked down nodding before looking up to meet your eyes again, trying to convey that he loved you. No matter how obvious your relationship may seem to those who watched you, you both had agreed to never utter your affections for each other in front of Capitol people.

The man who Haymitch had punched was now eagerly waiting by the door. “Go on Ms. L/N. You’re the one who made the deal.”

You once again looked at your lover, trying to convey your love for him before standing on shaky legs. Following the fire man out of the room.

Haymitch had been released by Snow almost immediately after you left. He was dragged through the building, into a car, and quite literally pushed out of said car when they arrived at the tributes building. He wanted to run back to the President’s building to find you but he knew how furious you’d be if he put his life in jeopardy again. So he swallowed his anger and stomped into the building and back up to the penthouse.

You didn’t return until noon the next day. When you entered your room Haymitch was passed out on the bed with two empty wine bottles. Whenever you were taken it was typical for Haymitch to drink himself into a coma but it was less common while you were in the Capitol. You immediately went to the bathroom, turning the water as hot as you could possibly stand, wanting to cleanse yourself of such a vile man. But even when you stepped out of the shower after a solid 10 minutes of scrubbing you still felt unclean. You had never been with someone that long.

You walked past Haymitch who was still passed out, probably for the night. You didn’t want to have to look into his eyes that you knew would be full of pity and anger. So you headed to the only person you knew would be able to help you. Getting onto the elevator you hit the number four, descending down into District 4’s floor.

Once the elevator opened you were greeted with a living room decorated exactly like yours 8 floors up. “Finnick,” you called, stepping in hesitantly. You felt weird just walking into someone else’s “home.”

“Yes?” you could hear Finnick’s confused voice call from another room. He appeared in a hallway a second late. “Y/N, what are you doing here?” he asked. You swallowed, feeling tears prick your eyes. Seeing your reaction, Finnick knew exactly what that meant. “Oh I’m so sorry,” he empathized. He came over, giving you a hug. At the first gentle, comforting touch you’ve felt all day, you broke down into sobs. He quietly tried to soothe you, leading you to the couch while you sobbed into his chest.

When your sobs finally subsided he spoke. “What happened?” he had comforted you many times over the years but you only ever cried like this when something new or exceptionally cruel happened for the first time.

“Hay-Haymitch got arrested,” you slowly choked out, “for punching a guy that said some things about me. Snow was gonna kill him. But instead I agreed to sleep with the guy so Haymitch would be let go. I spent over 12 hours with him, Finnick!” you cried.

“Oh Y/N,” he spoke gently, stroking a piece of hair behind your ear like parental figure. “I’m sorry that happened to the both of you. But hey, at least you have someone fighting in your corner… literally,” he laughed gently. You laughed with him, sniffling. “I’m sure you were scared for him but if I know anything about Haymitch, its that he loves you more than anything in the world and he’d much rather punch anyone in the face and die for you than allow you to be hurt. And if I know anything about you, its that you’d sleep with everyone in the Capitol before you let anyone hurt him. So just remember that you both have each other in your corners… and me of course.” You let out another laugh. “I’m surprised you’re down here. I’m sure Haymitch is terrified.”

You shook your head. “He’s passed out. Drank at least two wine bottles, probably more. That’s usually how he copes. I just wanted to talk to you then keep my mind off what happened,” you changed the subject. “What’s going on in the games?”

“Uh well Katniss killed the girl from District 1 by dropping a tracker jacker nest on the careers and now she has a bow. Cato, the kid from District 2, wounded Peeta. Last anyone saw he was disguising himself into the rocks by the river. And Katniss has formed an alliance with Rue, the girl from District 11.”

Your hope for Peeta was dying now. Like you feared for Katniss before, you knew his wound would get infected, especially since he was probably covered in dirt and mut in order to hide.

Finnick turned on the television so you could watch the games. Immediately it was on Katniss, perched just inside the clearing where the cornucopia was and where the careers had set up camp. Before you could even figure out what was happening she let an arrow fly, sending a bag of apples tumbling, triggering the mines you has watched the kid from District 3, Byte, use to protect the mountain of supplies. It all went up in one glorious blaze, sending Katniss flying back into the tree line. Fortunate seeing as the remaining careers all quickly returned, Cato breaking Byte’s neck. Well there goes Beetee’s bet, you thought to yourself. He had probably thought the same about you when Peeta was wounded.

The camera then shifted to little Rue who was running through the forest until she tripped, falling right into a trap. A net quickly fell down upon her, trapping her on the ground. “Katniss!” she yelled.

You felt your heart break at the sheer terror in her voice. You let out an audible breath when Katniss came running, quickly cutting the girl out of the rope. As she was checking up on the young girl, you could see the boy from District 1, Marvel, appear with a spear.

“Katniss,” Rue caught your tribute’s attention, pointing behind her at Marvel. Katniss quickly whirled around, notching an arrow and firing straight into his chest, killing him. Unfortunately it was too late after he released his spear, sending it into Rue’s abdomen.

You felt more tears well in your eyes as Rue fell, Katniss catching her. You could barely watch as Rue took her final breaths and again when Katniss buried her in flowers.

Finnick got up from beside you, immediately going to the bar cart. He poured two of some sort of cocktail, bringing one over for you. “My own creation,” he explained, handing it to you. You took it, realizing that it smelled and tasted like pure alcohol. Nevertheless you downed it. “Do you ever think of a world where there’s no games?” Finnick suddenly asked.

You shrugged. “I guess.”

“What about no Capitol?”

“Finnick…” you warned. You and he were the most closely watched Victors, neither of you could afford to think about stuff like that. Especially with Annie and Haymitch in your respective lives.

“There are rumors,” he continued. “Even some of the most powerful are done with this,” he gestured to the screen and the lavish wealth in the room.

“We can’t afford to be hopeful. Not with Haymitch and Annie.”

“Haymitch approached me.” You were taken aback. You had never heard of anything like that from him. “People tend to slip around him because of his alcoholism but he’s been approached about revolution.”

There it was… the dreaded yet long awaited r-word. You were about to get up and leave, not wanting to deal with the repercussions of this conversation, even if Haymitch was the one to initiate it with Finnick. As you were headed for the elevator a Seneca Crane’s voice came over a speaker. “Tributes, may I have your attention? A new tule has been instated. Two victors may be crowned so long as they come from the same District. Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor.”

You immediately rushed up to your room, eager to find Haymitch but when you arrived there was no sign of him. Unsure of what to do and reluctant to leave the “safety” of the penthouse you decided to wait. You sat down on the couch, continuing to watch as Katniss finally found her district partner.

“Peeta!” she called in fright as she began to dig him up from his own handiwork. “Did you hear the announcement?”

“I did. We could go home,” he said optimistically.

“We could go home,” Katniss agreed, showing hope for the first time ever. The only ones left, except for the tributes from 2, were singles. As much as you wanted your tributes to finally come home you knew there were several issues. 1. Peeta was severely injured and would be holding Katniss back if anything. 2. Clove and Cato were both relatively healthy and you could see them rejoicing on another screen. 3. They’d have to somehow outsmart the girl from District 5 who was always lurking yet never came out to fight. And 4. After Rue you knew Katniss would never willingly kill Thresh.

The camera then changed to the District 2 tributes hiking through the forest, looking for either food or other tributes. You watched as they clumsily tried to kill a squirrel, both throwing blades at it. You knew Clove was an exceptional knife thrower but the squirrel was too small and quick for her to hit. Having never gone hungry a day in their lives they weren’t coping with the loss of their supply stash well.

The cameras moved to Thresh who had a decent assortment of plants stashed in his bag as well as a scythe. As for the girl from District 5 she was currently curled up near some rocks, decently hidden.

You had to admit that if Katniss and Peeta didn’t win you’d want it to be Thresh. From what Chaff had told Haymitch he was a good person who had looked out for the people in his district, including young Rue when they had been reaped. Similar to Katniss.

Katniss and Peeta had staggered into a cave setting up for the night, trying to figure out what to do next. “We’ll get you some medicine,” she said.

“I don’t get many parachutes,” Peeta protested.

“We’ll figure something out,” she promised. You could see the cogs turning in her head before she pressed a chaste kiss to Peeta’s cheek. You could practically hear the cheers erupting from the Capitol people who had become enthralled in the romance.

Seeing the relative state of calm the game makers had decided that not much would happen and they dimmed the lights, creating night.

Soon enough Haymitch was entering the room. “Did you hear?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he smiled, “and I made that happen.”

Your jaw slackened in shock. “What?” How did he get an audience with someone powerful enough to amend the rules? “How?”

“My incredible persuasion skills,” he teased, wrapping his arms around your waist. “We’re gonna bring them home.”

You wanted to cry you were so overwhelmed with emotion. “We’re gonna fight to bring them home,” you agreed. “Peeta needs medicine. The stuff we sent Katniss for her burn isn’t doing anything.”

“I know the sponsor booth is closed for tonight. We’ll go first thing in the morning.” He punctuated the sentence with a kiss to your forehead.

The games stayed on all night as Haymitch and you slept. The camera switched between District 2 and 12 since that was the closest thing they had to interesting content. You woke up the first time to the beeping of a parachute. “I thought the sponsors booth was closed,” you groggily asked an even more so groggy Haymitch.

“I managed to convince some people to get them something right before the booth closed. I don’t know why they’re just now sending it,” he explained, face still half pressed into the pillow.

“Do you know what they sent?” you asked, hoping for medicine so 12 would have a fighting chance.

“I don’t. Hopefully medicine,” your lover said as if reading your mind.

“It’s soup,” you answered, slightly disappointed as Katniss opened the container. “At least it’s something.” Haymitch pulled you down closer to him as he fell back asleep with his face pressed into the crook of your neck. You still watched through hazy eyes as Katniss fed Peeta the soup, kissing him occasionally. They’re going to have to make out if they want to get medicine you thought as you drifted off to sleep reluctantly.

The next time you were woken it was due to Haymitch shaking your shoulder vigorously.

“…feast at the cornucopia for something each of you need,” was all you heard before the typical Capitol sign off.

“What’s going on?” you asked, still reluctant to be awake.

“They’re gonna give them medicine.”

Part III | Masterlist | Part V

#haymitch #haymitch x reader #haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch abernathy #thg #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #capitol punishment

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