#he did it to demonstrate how to safely pick one kind of snake up if you need to move it somewhere

[iinatilda]

btw i got to scratch an iguana under her chin today.

best day i’ve had in a long time.

[yelena-bellova]

Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes  x fem!reader - Chapter Five

chapter four - Chapter Five: Come A Little Closer - chapter six

Series Masterlist

Plot: As the hunt continues for Dr. Nagal and the super serum, Y/n learns the ugly side of being a superhero while also finding herself drawing closer to Bucky.

Warnings: spoilers for episode.3, angst, fluff, language, description of injuries, unwanted touching, blood, character death (minor), anxiety, *cue Start of Something New from High School Musical playing in the background*, idiots in their feelings getting interrupted a lot, dancing Bucky. did I mention feelings?

Word Count: 6.9k

A/N: So this is semi rushed because I didn’t have as much time to work on it as I typically do but hopefully it still holds up. I’m currently in a stupor right now after today’s episode and trying to plan out where the rest of this goes, exciting and nerve wracking lol. 

----

Lay low, blend in, enjoy the party and stay out of trouble. Those were Sharon’s instructions. Not only did she know how to throw a party but the Madripoorians knew how to enjoy themselves. The pomp and circumstance didn’t match New Orleans by a long shot, but they sure as hell threw themselves into it.

Sharon was in charge of asking around to see if anyone had any information on Wilfred Nagal while we were stationed at the bar. After Sharon’s talk, I was nursing a glass of whiskey trying to blur the various scenarios she’d put in my head. Each step we’d taken so far had landed us somewhere more dangerous. Within days we’d gone from an impromptu fight with Super Soldiers to breaking Zemo out of prison to a shootout in the streets of Madripoor. The deeper we got, the higher the risk. I’d never thought of Sam’s job as easy, but I could have never understood how difficult it was until I was doing it with him.

I looked over to Sam, Bucky and Zemo who were doing the exact opposite of what Sharon had told us to do. They couldn’t have looked more out of place. They looked like a bar joke; a superhero, a 100 year old assassin and an escaped Sokovian convict walk into a bar…

“Have any of you ever stepped foot in a club?” I asked, leaned up against the side of the bar. The three of them looked lost, causing me to roll my eyes, “Dance, drink, do something!” 

“Excuse me,” a masculine voice that didn’t belong to anyone in our group said from behind me, I turned and faced his presence, “It’s a crime that someone as beautiful as you hasn’t been out on that dance floor tonight. Care to join me?” Was it a cheesy line? Extremely so. But blending in meant blending in. “Why not?” I downed the last of my whiskey and allowed him to take my hand and lead me into the middle of the action.

The center of the room was packed body to body, filled with people innocent moving to the house music to those grinding against one another in the most sinful of ways. The handsome stranger put his hands on my waist, I placed mine loosely around his neck and we began to dance. There was enough space between us that it wasn’t uncomfortable and I found myself actually enjoying myself. But the longer the song went on, the more the guy’s hands started to wander. It started with a few circles in my hips that I wasn’t a fan of to rubbing up and down my sides, when they trailed around my back and down to my ass was when I wriggled out of his grip. “C’mon sweetheart,” he shouted over the music, “It’s a party, lighten up.” I was fully prepared to tell him exactly what I thought of men like him when a gloved hand grabbed his shoulder roughly, I looked to my side to see the body belonged to Bucky. “You’re done, pal.” The creep was inches shorter than Bucky and couldn’t match his intimidating steely stare. He put up no fight and simply backed away in fear, bumping into a few people on his way out of the main room. Bucky moved in front of me to act as some type of shield in case he was stupid enough to come back, “Are you okay?” “Yeah, I’m fine,” I assured him, “You didn’t have to come over, I can handle myself, y’know.” “I know you’ve got no problem telling people off,” he smirked, “But I couldn’t help myself. That kind of stuff doesn’t set well with me.” “Well, thank you,” I said, “But you’ve made one fatal mistake, Barnes.” His brows knitted together in confusion as I smiled, “You’re out on the dance floor with me.” I watched as he connected the dots, “No, no, no…” “Yes, yes, yes,” I contested, lightly tugging on his non-metal arm as he started to walk away, “You need to blend in and there could be another handsy creep nearby, so consider it a public service.” His 1940’s origins wouldn’t allow him to leave a woman by herself in a potentially uncomfortable situation, this much I knew. With a heavy sigh that I could practically hear over the loud music, he met my eyes. “I don’t know how to dance to this, it doesn’t even sound like music to me.” I rolled my eyes, “If only you had someone to teach you…Give me your hands,” he offered me his flesh one, “Both of them.”

He defeatedly put out his gloved metal hand and I took hold of them both, carefully placing them on my hips. They hesitantly held onto me as if maybe I didn’t want him touching me despite the fact that I initiated it. I watched him to make sure he was okay with me positioning us, his eyes stayed glued to where his fingers rested. Not wanting to make him any more uncomfortable than he already was, I settled my hands on his broad shoulders. Receiving no arguments from him, I continued moving us. We looked too much like middle schoolers in the middle of a gymnasium with all the space between us. I took a step towards him to shorten the distance, still watching him to make sure he was okay with what I was doing.

“Don’t focus on perfect steps,” I called over the noise, “Just try and feel the beat.” I took a step to the side, pulling Bucky along with me clunkily. His eyes were locked on the floor watching our feet as I began to alternate steps to the beat. I placed a finger under his chin and brought his line of vision up to meet mine, “Stop thinking so much.” I picked up the rhythm again and began to sway my hips a little with each movement I made, trying to take my own advice. Bucky looked like he didn’t know what to do, this was so far from any type of dancing he’d ever taken part in. But the more he felt me loosen up, the more his body started to feel less rigid. Where I’d been guiding us, Bucky met me and took the reins and started to move us. The heat I felt from his hands through our mutual layers of fabric sent tingles up my sides. We’d unconsciously moved closer to each other, our chests brushing with each movement. I peeked up at Bucky through my eyelashes under the pretense of making sure he was still comfortable, but I lost myself once I got there. His normally bright blue eyes had darkened significantly as he looked down on me. It felt like a shot of adrenaline straight down my spine while simultaneously making my knees weaken. I dared to slide my hands down from their resting position on his shoulders to his thickened biceps, giving me something to hold onto. It set off a chain reaction of his hands still lightly holding onto my waist to tighten, putting my body fully in his control. He started to guide my hips in figure eights, his heated gaze flicking between the motions and my eyes. With a shockingly little amount of hesitation, I snaked my arms to wrap around his neck pulling us what a few days ago would have been defined as too close. Now as I drowned in his blackened, dilated orbs and felt each breath he took against me, it didn’t feel nearly close enough. I found myself craving as much of him as I could get. Something had taken over both of us and I didn’t want it to loosen its hold.

“Hey,” Sharon’s voice flooded my ear from behind, “I found our guy, let’s go.” As soon as I felt her leave to go fetch the others, Bucky and I ceased our movements. Our chests pressed into one another as we panted, his pouty lips parted with each breath he drew. I swallowed harshly as I struggled not to notice how tempting they looked, trying to focus on anything else. The shine of a light layer of sweat down his neck, the sharpness of the jawline I suspected I could cut myself on, the scent of his cologne enveloping me, the pressure of his thumbs pressed into my hipbones, the way his dilated pupils sent a wave of heat through me…Bucky was all I could see or feel and I didn’t want it to end.

“W-we should…We should go,” I stumbled over myself, still unable to look away.

“Yeah,” he answered, breaking our stare only for a second to look down at my lips. I had to force myself to unwrap my arms from his neck, he immediately followed and let go of my waist. I wanted to grab his long, slender fingers and slide them back in place, but stopped the urge in its tracks. Now was the time to get to work, no matter how inconvenient of a time it had come at.

——

In the early hours of the morning, after Sharon had gotten everyone out of her gallery, we departed for the shipping yard Nagal was supposedly at. Awkward wasn’t a strong enough word to describe how Bucky and I were acting around each other. We’d barely said two words to one another, averting our eyes anytime they met. Something had happened out on that dance floor and we were both determined to ignore it.

“Madripoor could give New York a run for its money,” Sam commented as we walked between shipping containers.

“They know how to party,” Zemo responded, he’d spent plenty of his evening out on the dance floor demonstrating his off-beat moves.

“With that bounty on your head, the longer you’re in Madripoor, the less likely you’re ever leaving,” Sharon said as she guided us, using the coordinates she had on her phone. I followed her, relieved to have a little extra feminine energy around. “All right,” she stopped in front of a unit, “He’s in there. Container four-two-six-one. I’ll keep an eye out while you guys talk to Nagal but hurry, we’re on borrowed time.” We each took an earpiece she offered.

“I’m coming with you,” I said, immediately turning on my heel to block my brother’s argument, “I’m of better use out here if there are any problems. Let me do my job, Sam.” 

He took a deep breath and blinked, silently conceding to me. “Just stay safe,” he urged.

Inevitably, I met Bucky’s eyes that were already trained on me. He didn’t need to voice any of his concerns, they were all etched on his face. “I’ll be fine,” I said, trying to reassure both men that I could handle myself. I broke from the group to head off with Sharon, falling in step with her. 

“Hey, Sharon, you sure this is the right one? It’s completely empty,” Sam’s voice came through our comms. “Positive, it has to be,” she answered as we hurried through the yard, “How good are you and those hands in combat?” “Energy blasts, force fields, levitation,” we turned a corner and ducked behind a container, “Tell me what you need.” She threw a hand out to stop me from going any further, pressing a finger to her lips after. She peeked out from behind the unit and quickly hid again, “Guys, we’ve got company.” “What do we do?” I whispered.

Sharon raised the hood of one of her jackets and looked around us, spotting and grabbing a small metal pipe. “We buy them some time.” I nodded firmly, creating a ball of energy with my hands and waiting for her signal. When she darted out, I followed and we stealthily snuck up on the three bounty hunters nearby. Sharon began brutally attacking them with the pipe while I focused on throwing a blast at one of them, he fell to the ground unconscious. The two that Sharon had been taking on kept getting up after her beatings, I levitated one of them and threw him against a container.

“Every bounty hunter in the city is here, we gotta go!” she said into the comms, turning to me after, “Watch yourself, these people fight dirty.” As soon as the words had left her lips, another hunter appeared. He came towards us with  large knife, trying to tackle Sharon and forgoing me. I used my energy to shove him backwards, giving Sharon time to form a plan of attack. She ran towards him as he rose and twisted his arm, body slamming him to the ground and wrenching the knife out of his hand. She didn’t waste time in stabbing him in the back, quickly throwing the bloodied knife at another approaching hunter who was now trying to pull the weapon out of his forearm. Sharon kicked him into a container just as burly arms wrapped around me, pinning my arms at my sides. I kicked and flailed as he lifted me off the ground before moving to slam me facedown, I created a force field just in time and the two of us bounced off it and landed on his back. The second his grip loosened, I levitated out of it and landed on top of one of the shipping units. With an outstretched palm, I raised the wriggling man to my level and threw him across the ship yard. Below me, Sharon had a struggling hunter trapped between her legs and was choking him. I watched the man wheeze as he desperately tried to get her off of him and regain air. When his flailing began to cease, I was unable to watch the life drain from him and turned away.

A bullet flew past my head and I dropped to my belly, spotting a bounty hunter below firing a machine gun aimed where I’d been standing. When Sharon jumped out and kicked him in the back, his attention turned to her and he slammed her back against a shipping container. She pulled the barrel of his gun up and he fired a round in the sky as she held him off. She grabbed a knife stuck out of the waist of his pants and stabbed him, using his body as a shield as another hunter fired at her. I created a force field around her, allowing her to get safely behind a container to plan her next move. Pulling out the knife again, she nodded at me and dropped the corpse as I dropped my energy. She stabbed the guy lurking around the corner of the container before firing a fatal shot. I watched one last hunter come around to where she had just been standing, waiting for her to come around. I raised him in the air and flicked my fingers towards him, the gun dropping from his hands before I slammed him into another unit. After sweeping the area to make sure nobody was left, I floated down to where Sharon stood trying to catch her breath.

“We gotta go,” she panted as we ran back in the direction of the shipping container that held Nagal.

We weaved through the unit quickly, landing in the doctor’s hidden lab. “Guys, we’re seriously outta time here,” Sharon announced.

The sudden sound of a gunshot made us all jump, Sam and Sharon running to apprehend Zemo who had just fatally wounded Nagal. “What did you do?” Sharon trembled.

Bucky reached out to grab my arm and pulled me behind him, shielding me from any further attack. Just as my hand had nervously sought out his forearm, a sudden explosion threw us backwards. We harshly hit the floor, a symphony of groans escaping us all. Bucky and I had gotten separated as we’d flown and I blindly reached around for him, for Sam, anybody. “Anybody see Zemo?” Sam’s voice came through my ear.

I rose to my knees and started pushing myself up, my body screaming at me to stop. Bucky raised me up the rest of the way before pulling Sam and Sharon to their feet as well. We’d barely gotten our footing when a second explosion hit, this time from the chemicals in the lab rather than an attack. Luckily, we had gotten out before we’d been injured further. I stood behind Sharon, my head on a swivel trying to find the culprits of the ambush. “All right!” Bucky yelled, “Wait for my signal!” He hadn’t even finished speaking when Sam started shooting towards a pack of bounty hunters and taking off on his own. “Damn it!” Bucky came out from around the corner of the smoking unit and started firing at the men while Sharon and I ran around to the back where Sam was. “Can you create a force field?” Sharon shouted at me over the gunfire. “If I do, whatever bullets we fire will stay in it with us,” I shouted back at her, ducking below the barricade we now had for ourselves and next to Sam. The three of us crouched down and I began shooting out balls of energy towards each incoming bullet, deflecting each one away from us.

“And you like living here?” Sam yelled at Sharon.

“It’s not terrible!” she replied, popping up and down behind the fallen piece of metal giving us protection.

Bucky came down from his position to join us, “I thought we were gonna go left!” “You went the wrong way!” Sam stopped firing to berate him. “I was clearing the way!” Bucky argued. “Really? Right now?” I yelled.

“I came out first, you were supposed to follow me!” “And where are we now?!” “Guys, not the time!” Sharon attempted to quell their petty argument, dropping behind the barricade when her gun was out of bullets. I tuned the fighting out as I worked on redirecting the bullets. The blue energy streamed from my hands, my reflexes quick and my mind never more focused. One hunter loaded his machine gun and aimed it at me, as soon as the ammo started flying I used my energy to shove them back his way before levitating him and slamming him into a shipping unit. It was only for the split second he was suspended in the air after the hit that I caught the sight of the bullets lodged in his chest and his head cracked open from the power of my hit. He limply fell to the ground, his eyes still open yet cold and hollow.

I had killed a man.

The shock took over my body and I quickly absorbed the energy back into my body immediately. I stood there unprotected as I stared at his corpse, ripe with life a moment ago and now devoid of anything. If it hadn’t been for Sam shoving me down behind our barricade, I would have stupidly continued to leave myself exposed in horror of what I’d just done. 

Another explosion kept us down, we hesitantly peeked over the shards of metal to see a fight breaking out. While the mask was new, I knew the coat belonged to Zemo, who was now taking out bounty hunters left and right. Through the flames I could see him shove, flip, shoot and punch. He looked back at us as if to signal that he’d cleared the way to escape. The four of us took the chance and made our way out of the wreckage, sprinting through the maze of shipping containers. 

“Buck!” Sam yelled, opening the nearest unit’s door and using it as a shield while Sharon and I leapt in, avoiding the gunfire. He pulled Bucky in shortly after and closed the door, the attacker having been dealt with.

The container was dark, the only light seeping in from a few cracks in the corners. When a hand grabbed my arm, I shrieked in terror and readied my energy “Hey, hey, it’s just me,” Sam hurriedly announced his presence, “Are you okay?” Was I okay? I had just ended someone’s life, I was the furthest thing from okay. But to reassure him that physically I was fine, I hummed my answer, there were too many words swirling in my brain to say anything more.

We waited a few more minutes until there was no noise and nobody had come for us. Bucky used his super strength to punch the metal doors open, the sound of screeching tires greeting us as a vintage model drove up in front of us.

“Supercharged,” Zemo smiled from the driver’s seat.

“You’re going back to jail,” Sam said.

Zemo sighed, exhausted with Sam’s fixation on placing him back where he belonged, “Do you want to find Karli or not?”

“He’s right, we need him,” Bucky opened the passenger’s side door and climbed into the vehicle, “And there’s two of us and at least twenty of them. Come on.” “Wait, when did it become twenty?” I asked, not yet approaching the car.

“We’ll fill you in on the way,” Bucky answered. “Fine,” Sam begrudgingly agreed, “But if you try that shit again-“ “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Zemo said, somewhat unconvincingly but beggars couldn’t be choosers when it came to help and we were beggars. “Well, that was one hell of a reunion,” Sharon shut the door to Sam’s side.

“Come back to the States with us,” Sam offered.

“I told you, I can’t,” Sharon declined, the sadness I sensed in her making a flash of an appearance, “Just get me that pardon you promised me and,” she turned to smile at me, “Keep her alive, I like her.” I put a hand on her shoulder, still a little breathless from the fight. “You do the same.” 

With that, Sharon walked off into the ship yard while Sam said a quick thanks. I walked around to the other side of the car, ignoring Sam and Bucky’s back and forth as I climbed in and sunk into the seat. Even though we were safe from immediate danger, my heart was still racing and I could feel its beat pounding in my ears. I shut my eyes and held my head in my hand as we drove off, the image of the bullet stricken bounty hunter laying motionless on the ground at the forefront of my mind.

——

On the plane, everybody had retired to their separate corners and tasks. Zemo was fixing food in the kitchenette, Sam was on the phone with Torres, Bucky was cleaning his vibranium hand and I was curled up in one of the chairs with unshed tears flooding my eyes. I had never ever wanted to hurt anybody with my powers and in the heat of battle, I had used them to murder someone. I had taken a life and there was no coming back from that. Some innocent part of me that had remained through the trauma I’d seen in my life had been stripped away and I wasn’t going to have it returned. The moment played and played and played in my head, I didn’t think I would ever forget the sight…

I had been blocking out Sam and Bucky’s conversation until I heard the shield come up, or as they were referring to it, the hunk of metal.

“Maybe I made a mistake,” Sam said. “You did,” Bucky immediately agreed.

“Yeah, maybe I shouldn’t have put it in a museum. Maybe I should’ve destroyed it.”

Bucky paused before answering, “Look, that shield represents a lotta things to a lotta people, including me. The world is upside down, and we need a new Cap, and it ain’t gonna be Walker. So before you destroy it, I’m gonna take it from him myself.” The tears I was trying so hard to withhold unavoidably fell to my cheeks, I was overwhelmed. Anxiety began to fill my body as the day’s events flashed across the inside of my eyelids. It was too much. Too much.

“Y/n,” Sam’s voice across the aisle punctured the bubble of my mind, “You okay?”

“I don’t care,” I whispered, my palm digging into my forehead. “What?” 

“I don’t care,” I exclaimed, leaping out of my seat and turning to face Bucky and Sam, “About the shield, about Walker, about whatever happened on that phone call, about anything. I killed someone today, I actually ended somebody’s life and now we’re just sitting around like nothing happened. I don’t understand how you guys can be so relaxed about any of this when a few hours ago, we were landing bullets in people’s chests!” 

Sam and Bucky, to their credit, were silent as I blew up on them. When I’d finished with more tears down my face than I’d started with and a strained voice, I hurriedly made my way down the aisle and to the bathroom, locking myself in and the world out. My back slid against the nearest wall and my body sank to the floor, I finally allowed myself to sob my sorrow out.

——

Sam and Bucky sat in stunned silence after Y/n had left, only daring to consider speaking when they heard her muffled cries from the jet’s bathroom. Sam’s phone rang, it was Torres calling with information about Donya Madani most likely. He looked over to Bucky, “Someone’s gotta talk to her,” he stated, care and concern laced in his tone, “You and I both know what it feels like to make that first kill.”

Bucky sighed loudly, he knew exactly what Y/n was feeling and wanted to help her, but he wasn’t sure how he could do that. He could barely make it through a therapy session without feeling like he wanted to jump out the window, especially when Raynor started bringing up his dark past. But on the other side of the door was a woman he cared about for reasons he didn’t fully understand and she was hurting, and that was enough motivation for him to get up from his seat and rise to the occasion.

He raised his fist to knock, hovering over the door for a second before he made contact with it. “Hey,” he said, his voice raised so she could hear him, “You wanna let me in?” The silence that followed let him know that wasn’t going to happen.

With his concern growing, he grasped the metal door knob with his metal hand and twisted it till the lock broke and the knob detached. Zemo could take it up with him later, all Bucky could focus on in that moment was Y/n and the river of tears flowing steadily down her face stemming from her puffy, bloodshot eyes. 

——

I took my hands off my eyes when I heard the creaking of metal, looking up to see Bucky holding the now broken doorknob in his hand and watching him discard it on the floor. He entered the room slowly, approaching me with just as much caution and shutting the door as much as he could. The bathroom was small but he still managed to find enough room to slide down next to me, our bodies packed tightly against one another.

We rested in the heavy silence for a moment before Bucky spoke up. “I get it.” When I didn’t respond, he continued. “But he was gonna kill you and if it were my choice, I’d have saved you too.” “Yeah, I know, it was self defense but, Bucky,” I paused to look at him through my tears that were holding firm, “I still killed someone. Bad guy, good guy, it doesn’t matter. He was somebody’s son o-or husband.” “He was a low life, Y/n, and you probably saved a lot more people than you think,” Bucky said, beginning to fiddle with his thumbs like I’d watched him do frequently. “Stop trying to make me feel better about this,” I muttered, sniffling and wiping the wetter side of my face, “You were trained for this kind of thing, you volunteered for the war and knew you’d have to make these kinda calls. I promised myself a long time ago that if I ever revealed my powers, I would only use them for good. Because that’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. But after today…” I trailed off and looked down at my lap, resting my forehead against my knees, “I don’t know how to look myself in the mirror.”

The only sound filling the room was the sounds of my trembling breaths and Bucky’s steady ones. I knew he was only trying to help, but I wasn’t sure if there was anything he could say to make me feel better. “You helped save our asses today,” Bucky eventually said, his rough voice low in his chest, “If you don’t want to think about having saved your own life, think about protecting me and Sharon and Sam. Today could’ve gone south real quick and part of the reason it didn’t is because of you. This kind of stuff…it’s not easy. But it gets a little easier knowing that you’re doing the hard stuff to save good people.” I leaned back as he spoke and rested my head against the wall, watching his lips move and try to ease my conscious.  It didn’t help, but it didn’t not help. When joining Sam, I hadn’t thought about the possibility that I would have to make split second calls like the ones I made today. My naivety was my own fault. I knew that the person I’d killed today would have slaughtered  any one of us without a second thought and Bucky was right, I probably saved one of us from dying by deflecting the bullets. The deed would weigh heavily on my mind for a long time, but maybe listening to Bucky was the first step in making peace with it.

I wiped underneath my eyes until they were as dry as they could get, “Thanks, for trying at least.” Bucky sadly smiled, watching me collect myself with a deep breath and a sniffle. “Are you okay?” I asked, hoping I wasn’t crossing any lines but needing an answer, “After the whole scene in the bar?” His demeanor changed quickly, his softened features hardening and his body going stiff once again. He cleared his throat awkwardly and mumbled an ‘I’m fine’ before rising to his feet. I stood up fast enough for the blood to rush to my head but couldn’t find it in me to care. “Bucky,” I said, reaching out to wrap a hand around his vibranium wrist, “Stop.” He listened and robotically turned to face me without actually looking at me. I knew that I could never come close to understanding how traumatic acting as his past alter ego could have been, but I was determined not to let him stew in his feelings longer than necessary. Words may not have been enough in the moment, but any other option was just as risky. Maybe a little risk was what the situation called for. 

I let go of his wrist, my hands awkwardly held in the space between our chests before I surged forward to capture him in a hug. His body only tensed further as I pressed myself against him, his hands at his sides unknowing of what to do. No matter how bad I sensed it was going, I continued nonetheless. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, my face close enough to his ear for it to create goosebumps on his neck. 

Internally I told myself to let go, I was probably making him feel wildly uncomfortable. The second I loosened my grip, his flesh arm shot out and wrapped around my waist. With a small smile, I sunk back into the embrace and let myself be enveloped by Bucky once again. His scent invaded me, a mixture of the sweat of battle and whatever cologne had remained on his body from earlier. The attractive scruff he wore brushed the side of my face, sending electric sensations through me. The arm that firmly held him to me made me feel protected, it was the first time on our journey that I’d felt well and truly safe. Bucky shifted so that his cheek was now against the back of my head, pressed into my hair. The act struck a different type of feeling in me than when we’d danced, it didn’t hold the intensity and heat. This was warm and pure, like light itself. Surrounded by him and feeling his warmth radiating through me, I was convinced that I was experiencing a glimpse of heaven.

I couldn’t tell who broke apart first but Bucky’s arm wasn’t yet ready to leave my waist. My hands lost their place around his neck and were forced to slide down to his firm chest. I looked down at their placement, trying not to think too much about what lay underneath.

“You’re not nearly as bad as you think you are,” Bucky said quietly, sparing me a small smirk.

“Neither are you,” I smiled, soaking in the rare softness that we’d been given and wondering why my pulse quickened the second our eyes met. 

A sudden knock on the door startled both of us. “Hey, Torres got intel on Madani, you guys gotta hear it.” Sam’s voice carried through.

Bucky and I instantly separated at the sound of my brother’s voice, him awkwardly putting his hands on his hips and me shoving mine in the pockets of my jacket. Whatever feeling had been in the air dissolved at the remembrance that there were so many other important matters on the other side of the door demanding our attention. Bucky pushed the slightly ajar door open and moved aside to let me out first. 

“What’d you get from Torres?” I asked, pausing outside the bathroom and leaning against the wall. I could feel the heat radiating off Bucky’s body as he stood behind me.

“Madani died yesterday,” Sam answered, reclined in his seat looking stressed, “In Riga, a city near the Baltic Sea. Zemo,” he gestured to the Baron, lounging in his seat, “He’s got a place for us to stay there.”

“Latvia,” I sighed, looking over my shoulder to glance at Bucky, “Here we come.”

——

A few short hours later, the plane’s cabin lights were dimmed and each piece of the foursome was asleep in their seats, except for one.

Bucky sat awake, switching between staring at the ceiling and Y/n’s sleeping form. She had curled up in the chair across from him and went to sleep surprisingly fast. He envied her, his thoughts were going to keep him up all night.

Once he’d gotten both feet on the ground after the Blip, losing Steve and starting his new life on his own, Bucky had recognized that he didn’t want to be alone. He still had the same dream as he had in the ’40’s; to meet a nice girl, settle down and raise some kids. Now in modern times, everything was so much more complicated than it had been then. He’d tried online dating, failing miserably and finding the whole process unnatural. He had humored Yori and gone on a date with Leah, a waitress at their favorite sushi place, the conversation turning too dark for him to handle. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to meet the mythical One when every avenue left him confused or overwhelmed by the dirty deeds of his past.

Until she came along.

Y/n came into his life unapologetically and in the last minute he would have ever thought he’d meet someone. She had dazzled him from the start, despite his initial annoyance, and had kept him on his toes since their first meeting in the hanger. She held the same level of strength when she was telling him off in the therapy session as she had revealing her broken past. She was the only person in a long time that had been able to make him smile, genuinely smile. Not the kind his therapist told him to flash during his three step process for making amends. Bucky was jaded and cynical about the world around him, but she brought him something that looked a whole lot like happiness. But the biggest and loudest quality of hers was that she cared. She cared for everyone around her, even those that didn’t deserve it. He’d been nothing but snarky to her on their first day together and she’d still rushed to save him when she’d heard he was in trouble. She was making sure that he was alright every chance possible, not because she thought he would slip back into his old programming, but because she simply didn’t want him to suffer. All of it led up to the moment in the bathroom where she had pointed out that he had volunteered for WW2. To anyone else it wouldn’t have mattered why she chose that example, but it was everything to Bucky.

She had chosen to bring up his history as a soldier, not the soldier.

That was the moment where Bucky realized he was falling for her. It finally made sense to him why when he’d held her on the dance floor his skin felt like it was on fire, why he hadn’t wanted to let her go, why her safety had become one of his top priorities. Rather than have something to fight, he now had something to protect.

But Bucky couldn’t forget to fear in her eyes when he’d sought them out in the Madripoor bar. When he had his metal hand wrapped around the neck of the Winter Soldier’s latest “victim.” He didn’t blame her, she’d be insane not to be afraid of him. Yet she was still there for him, trying to help him through his trauma that she was knowledgable on. The thought both hurt and warmed his heart. 

As he watched her sleep, light snores coming from her lips every once in a while and her feet tucked so tightly below her legs he didn’t see how she could be comfortable, he smiled. Even unconscious she could make him smile. Y/n was a new sensation he was still getting used to but damn it all, he loved it and wished they had met under different circumstances. He could have asked her to dinner, brought her flowers, strolled through the city with her…Bucky finally felt relaxed enough to shut his eyes, drifting away and dreaming of the woman who had wormed her way into his heart.

—— We touched down in Riga in the early morning and headed for Zemo’s hideout he had in the city. Even if we were here under unfortunate circumstances, I still tried to take in as much of the city as I could. When was the next time a girl from NOLA was going to have to opportunity to be in Latvia? The four of us strolled down the sidewalk, Zemo talking more to Sam about the remnants of Sokovia than Bucky and I. We hadn’t spoken much since our conversation in the bathroom but he had made an effort to ask me if I was okay after I’d woken up. I wasn’t sure what I was but I knew that when Bucky was around, I felt a little better. 

“I’m gonna go for a walk,” he announced as we approached the stoop of Zemo’s place.

“You good?” Sam asked, only seconds before I could get the same words out.

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, already backing away from the group, “I’ll see you guys in a bit.”

I watched him walk back down the sidewalk, fighting the overwhelming urge to follow him and wondering if there was something to it. He may have been a super soldier, but I could still protect him. If there was anything I’d learned about Bucky in the short time I’d known him was that he didn’t have any qualms about running headfirst into a fight. Bucky was also a terrible liar. Those facts were what made me worry the further I watched him head down the road.

When had this happened? When did this man I’d know only a few days become someone I cared so deeply about? Why were all my thoughts beginning to orbit around Bucky? Since the first time we’d actually sat and talked, when I’d opened up to him about my powers and my father, I’d felt something for him. Something that had only started to increase the more time we spent around each other. On the dance floor in Madripoor had been another significant incident, one that had been harder to recover from without acknowledging that there had been some sort of spark. The moment I realized I wanted as much of Bucky as I could get was in the bathroom the night before, when he’d held me in his arms until he was forced to let go. When he’d felt like an oasis in the middle of the nightmare we were in. For all his faults and demons, the man he was rang louder than anything else and had captured my heart in a matter of days.

Shit.

I had fallen for Bucky Barnes without even realizing it.

“Y/n,” Sam interrupted my thoughts, “You coming?”

His beckoning couldn’t have come at a worse moment, as I’d just broken through the barriers my mind had built. “Yeah,” I mumbled, forcing myself to turn away from keeping a watchful eye of Bucky’s departing figure. As it had been with any moment regarding the Super Soldier and I, the world always found a way to remind us there were more important matters at hand.

----

A/N: OH, we’re really in it now...Hope everybody enjoyed, feel free to let me know what you thought or if you’d like to be tagged! 

Safe Haven taglist: @tanyaherondale​ @wanniiieeee​ @asoftie4bucky​ @edencherries​ @i-reblog-fics-i-like​ @ttalisa​ @gcfty @withyoutilltheendofthismess​ @rinaispunk​ @weirdowithnobeardo​ @felicityofbakerstreet​ @godlypotterwhodiaries @eternalharry​ @voguesir​ @mizz-kraziii​ @okayline​ @smellmymisunderstoodfluff @wanderin-stories​ @nicklet94 @intricate-melody​ @aesthethickks​ @stumbleonmywords​ @simplybarnes​ @21bruhs​ @lostinwonderland314​ @superbookishhufflepuff​ @kaelyn-lobrutto24​ @zozebo​ @fandomxreaders @kittengirl998​ @sarai-ibn-la-ahad​ @i-know-i-can​ @x-judyjude-x​

[jingabitch]

To Love an Empress

SUMMARY: Despite the acrimonious beginning to your relationship, Yoongi is drawn to you.

PAIRING: emperor!yoongi x empress!reader

RATING: E

WARNINGS: smut | unprotected sex (they’re husband and wife and also this is a historical au so there are no condoms but be safe okay) | references to war | yoongi’s scar is discussed | yoongi kills a man (mentioned but not explicit) | secret admirer stuff

WORD COUNT: 9.8k

A/N: My final submission for the BTS Ghostie bingo, yay! This one fills the secret admirer tile. This fic is kind of based on Henry VII and Elizabeth of York’s early relationship, and inspired by The White Princess, so if some of the dialogue and scenes are similar, that’s why. 

Shoutout to my lovely betas @knjkitten and @yoongs-jeontae for helping me beta this! Banner by @jkeuphoriadreamland​ 💕 i’ve never had a banner on a fic before this is fun hehe

Min Yoongi was a hard man, and he knew it. He’d won his throne on the battlefield, running his sword through the old king and crowning himself right there on the blood-stained grass.

You knew it too, could never forget it when you looked at your husband. The scar on his face from an injury he’d sustained during the decisive battle for his crown; the memory of how coldly he’d treated you at the beginning; the baby growing inside you as a result of Yoongi’s insistence that you demonstrate your ability to provide him with heirs before he would marry you. As if he’d had a choice, when your bloodline was the cornerstone of his legitimacy.

After all the angry words and hostility between the two of you, he knew there was no chance you would forgive him. And yet, a part of him craved it. He saw the kindness you lavished on your ladies-in-waiting, the servants, and all the children running around the palace who were sons and daughters of the nobles and the army of servants working here. Was it so wrong of him to want just a little of that for himself? You were his wife, after all.

Yoongi was a warrior. He’d trained all his life to take control of the kingdom. War was all he knew.

Which made him, unfortunately, woefully inept when it came to wooing a lady, especially one so resistant to him. He’d relied on his looks before, but now that he had the scar on his face, it seemed that even that tool was no longer at his disposal. God knows you hated it.

With no one else to turn to, he asked his eunuch what he should do. At first, the portly man just blinked at him, confused. “She’s your wife, you don’t have to persuade her to warm your bed,” he pointed out.

Yoongi grimaced. “I know that,” he grumbled. “I want her to like me.”

Sambo snorted. “Should have thought about that before you made her ‘prove her fertility’ to you.”

Sulking, Yoongi got up and stormed away from his eunuch. Obviously, he knew that, and he wished that no one else did. It wasn’t like him to force a lady like that, but tensions had been running high at the time and he hadn’t trusted a woman from the house of L/n. You must have run to your lady-in-waiting and cried to her when it was over, because Sambo had gotten quite the shelling from her the next day.

Sambo, who’d quickly grown used to the antics of his master, just hurried along beside Yoongi. “Just give her something pretty,” he advised. “Women like that.”

Yoongi stopped short. Why hadn’t he thought of that? “That’s a great idea,” he enthused. “You’re useful for once, Sambo,” he praised his eunuch.

Sambo rolled his eyes to hide his pleased smile. “You’d think a grown man would know something like that,” he jibed. “Taking love advice from someone who can’t even perform must be a new low for you.”

“Whatever.” Yoongi waved off the insult. “I’ll get her a nice hairpin,” he decided. “But don’t tell her it’s from me.” He didn’t want you throwing it out in disgust.

“She’s obviously going to know,” Sambo pointed out. “There is no man in Joseon suicidal enough to woo the empress. That’s treason.”

Frowning, Yoongi snapped, “Just do it,” before stalking back into his room with a huff and shutting the door in Sambo’s face. The eunuch really didn’t need to rain on his parade like that, even if he was probably right. Hopefully you wouldn’t immediately come to the conclusion that it was him. It wasn’t just that he was afraid you’d throw out a gift from him—he wanted to make you smile. Not because you were bound to him and might as well exhibit some fondness towards your husband, but because he was really, truly capable of making you happy.

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

Pregnancy had been difficult for you so far. Without your mother around, you were left to go through it by yourself. At least Ling, your personal servant-turned-lady-in-waiting, was here with you. You’d been together since you were a child and she was a young teen, and she was like a sister to you.

The morning sickness was starting to fade, thankfully, but you still got nauseous sometimes, so Ling suggested that you have your breakfast in the courtyard to enjoy some fresh air and sunshine while the cleaners dusted and polished your quarters.

When you finally got back to your room after being bullied by Ling into taking a little walk – exercise was good for the baby, she insisted – there was a hairpin lying on your table, next to the novel you’d been reading. Curiously, you knelt down to pick it up.

“What’s this?” you asked Ling, who was trailing a few steps behind you.

“It’s a hairpin, milady,” she responded somewhat cluelessly.

“Yes,” you said patiently, “but why is it here? I’ve never seen this before.” Looking more closely at it, you turned it over a few times in your hand. It truly was pretty, a delicate gold phoenix carved into the end of the pin, decorated with pink flowers and milky jade balls around the base of the phoenix.

Sitting down on the other side of the table, Ling pulled your hand holding the pin closer to her so she could examine it too. “I don’t know, but it’s so pretty,” she sighed. “Maybe you have a secret admirer,” she giggled.

“Yes, the pregnant empress has a secret admirer,” you said drolly. Everything about your existence, from the gilded cage you were trapped in, to your marriage to the most powerful man in Joseon, to the heir you were carrying in you, screamed that you were taken, owned by a man. And not just any man, of course, but the one whose wife was strictly, on pain of death, off-limits.

“Well, you never know,” Ling said lightly. “Just take it for what it is,” she advised. “Someone wants to make you happy!”

“All right,” you accepted skeptically, but you couldn’t quite stop the smile from stealing across your face. After living as a political pawn for so many years because of your family and giving up everything for the man who’d killed your uncle, it did feel nice to think that there was someone out there who liked you for you.

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

You weren’t stupid, of course. You had considered that it was your husband who’d had the pin sent to you. It made sense, after all – he was the only man in the whole of Joseon who could do something like that. It didn’t take long for you to disabuse yourself of that notion, however. Yoongi hated you, considered you the snake in his midst. Taking a L/n bride after defeating the House of L/n was the last thing he’d wanted to do, and he’d made that abundantly clear when you met. Hell, even before that, when he’d sent a platoon to your residence in the countryside to retrieve you.

Your first interaction with the new emperor had gone woefully poorly, with cruel words said on both sides.

As angry and resentful as you were about being claimed as his wife, you weren’t in any mood to be supplicant to the new emperor. When they brought you to meet him, in an admittedly charming gazebo, you knelt without bowing or greeting him, refusing to even look straight at him.

“Are you just going to sulk, then?” he drawled, and you barely resisted the urge to strangle him with your bare hands.

“We’ve done nothing right; surely you aren’t insisting that we follow tradition now?” you replied, your light tone doing little to hide your displeasure. This was all wrong, you knew. Despite Ling hovering just out of earshot keeping a watchful eye on things, you knew that your reputation was at stake simply from meeting the emperor alone before you were married.

It was unusual for you to enter the palace knowing that you were to be the empress, too. Usually the empress dowager chose her son’s bride, based on a series of tests that demonstrated her suitability for the throne. But, you knew, you were already the best candidate, purely based on your bloodlines.

Yoongi leaned forward, steepling his fingers in front of him. “Of course not,” he said, and his low, dangerous voice caused your breath to catch as you jerked your head forward to look at him properly for the first time. You couldn’t help but gasp at the long scab slicing through his eye. Catching you staring at it, he smiled bitterly.

“Are you afraid of your fiancé?” he asked.

“Of course not,” you hissed. “Just horrified that I have to lie with a disfigured monster.”

You remembered the way he’d jerked back, as if scalded. Okay, so you weren’t blameless in the current state of affairs you found yourself in, this hateful sham of a marriage that neither of you enjoyed. Still, given the acrimonious relationship you had with your husband, it seemed less than likely that he was your secret admirer.

“Poor, pitiful L/n Y/n,” he responded coldly. “Why don’t we get it over with, then?”

“What?!” you gasped, your hand flying to your mouth.

He smiled at you coldly. “I will not repeat the mistakes of previous emperors,” he informed you, and your lips pursed in displeasure, recognizing his comment for the jibe that it was – most of the previous emperors in the history of the kingdom had been your ancestors. “Having no legitimate heir is a recipe for disaster.”

Despite your best attempts to avoid giving him the satisfaction of your reaction, you couldn’t hold back the blanch. Smirking in satisfaction at having gotten back at you for the cruel insult, he continued, “We will be wed only when you are pregnant.”

Really, after all was said and done, it was no wonder that you and your husband despised each other.

Still, maybe there was a part of you that wished the pin had come from him. It wasn’t that you were in love with Yoongi or something insipid like that, it was just… you were kind of lonely here in the palace, with hardly anyone you knew around. The only person you’d been allowed to bring with you was Ling, because she’d been your servant for so long.

It would be nice to feel, just once more in your life, like you had a friend around you.

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

As your pregnancy progressed, you grew increasingly miserable and annoyed, and your secret admirer stepped up his efforts to cheer you up. From pretty flowers on your pillow to new books when you finished your existing ones, even pretty ribbons and once, a bag of a rare tea that was supposed to alleviate morning sickness, this mysterious individual was showing you more care than your own husband.

You rarely saw Yoongi these days, since he was usually busy in the throne hall, setting the country back to rights. Being a woman, you never got to attend the morning meetings and reading of the petitions, but from what you heard, Yoongi wasn’t the most competent politician. It frustrated you to no end – you were the daughter and niece of the past two emperors, had grown up learning about politics, history and economics, and yet your role was basically being a baby incubator while your inexperienced husband was led down all sorts of rabbit holes as the ministers tried to take advantage of the situation to fatten their own coffers.

The last straw came when you heard of a proposed tax increase for the peasants, purportedly to shore up the kingdom’s defenses. You knew Minister Su, who was in charge of defense, was greedy and corrupt, but very eloquent and had many supporters among the cabinet. Overcoming your own reluctance to speak to your husband directly, you stormed into his private quarters one evening, while he was relaxing with a drink.

“Get out,” you ordered his eunuch, who was kneeling by his side.

Sambo looked over at Yoongi, who nodded at him. Once the doors slid shut behind the eunuch, you knelt in front of your husband. Since you were about six months pregnant now, it was difficult for you to maneuver, but you managed. “I need to talk to you,” you told him.

“I gathered that,” he said dryly. “Could this not wait for a more appropriate audience?”

“No,” you rejected him flatly. “I heard that you’re considering a new tax on the peasants.”

“That’s none of your business.” He leaned back slightly and crossed his arms over his chest.

“You should reject the tax proposal, Your Grace,” you said quietly.

“I said, that’s none of your business,” he thundered, slamming his fist down on the table.

You winced, but continued, undeterred. “Minister Su does not have the best interests of the kingdom in mind, Your Grace. There was a bad harvest this year, and the people will not stand for a tax now, especially when they are already so tired of conflict.”

It seemed that bringing up the civil war that had just been fought between Yoongi and your uncle was a bad idea, as he looked even more furious. He sucked in a deep breath to yell at you, but you quickly continued, cutting him off before he could start.

“Your reign is still new, Your Grace, and the people are still unsure about you. Now is the time for generosity, so that they learn to love you.”

“Why does a L/n empress care about whether the people love me? You and your family hate me; you fought a war against me,” he scoffed, leaning back on his hands in a casual pose to show just how little he cared.

Bristling indignantly, you bit back, “You raised an army against my family! You are the usurper! Make no mistake of it, sir, I advise you not because of any attachment to you, but because I care about this kingdom.”

At that, some of the fire left him. “Everyone claims to care about the kingdom, but all they really care about is themselves. Do you think I don’t know that my ministers are watching me, waiting to take advantage? That people are plotting against me as we speak?”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s what it means to be the emperor. My father had the same thing, as did my uncle – from you.” Maybe goading him wasn’t the best thing to do right now, but you were pregnant, uncomfortable and irritated.

“Then how do I know that I can trust you?” he retorted, his frustration with the current situation bleeding through his voice.

You were going to murder this man, you swore. He wouldn’t need to wait for any plot coming from outside the palace walls. How could someone be capable enough to enact a coup against the emperor, and yet so frustratingly dim when it came to politics?

“Because my wagon is tied to yours, you idiot. I am your empress now before I am a L/n woman, and this child I carry inside me is a Min child. Do you think that if your rule fails, I can just go home, and all will be well for me? I will be executed together with you, and so will our child.”

That seemed to shut him up. “I’ll think about it,” he finally allowed grudgingly.

“Thank you,” you said, bowing with your forehead pressed to the back of your palms over the floor.

After you’d left, Yoongi thought about how that was the first time you’d bowed to him. It seemed there was much he didn’t know about his wife.

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

The next afternoon, you heard from Ling that the tax on the peasants had been rejected, and a jeweled comb was delivered to your room. This particular gift came directly from Sambo, so you knew that it was from Yoongi, and you accepted it for the apology that it was.

Two weeks later, proof of Minister Su’s corruption and embezzlement came to light, and he was sent into exile. You might have felt slightly smug about it, since you’d hated Minister Su ever since your own father was the emperor, but mostly you felt a little bad for Yoongi, having to deal with something like that so soon after coming to power.

That same night, Yoongi invited you to have dinner with him. Well, it was more like an order, because you weren’t in any position to turn down the emperor, but Ling was excited nonetheless as she got you ready, helping you into your pretty jeogori and braiding your hair into an elaborate bun.

“I’m so happy for you,” she gushed as she stood in front of you, tying the jeogori. “This could be the start of a new relationship between the two of you!”

“You know I can’t get more pregnant, right?” you asked drolly, raising a brow. In fact, you’d pretty much expected him to leave you alone for the rest of the pregnancy and only call on you once you were recovered enough to perform your conjugal duties once more.

“Oh, hush,” she giggled. “I’m sure he wants to see how you’re doing. You are carrying his heir, after all.”

“Sure, that’s me,” you muttered. “The incubator.”

“Be nice,” she admonished. “You want him to like you, so that he’ll give you more privileges. When your son becomes emperor, then you can swan around all day like the crone.” Suffice it to say, neither of you liked your mother-in-law that much.

“I know,” you sighed. “I’m just uncomfortable all the time.” Entering your third trimester of pregnancy, you were having trouble standing around and kneeling on the ground? Impossible. You’d had a table and chair moved into your room so that you could sit comfortably, but as far as you knew, Yoongi still sat on the ground for most of the day.

Ling didn’t know about your late-night meeting with the emperor a few weeks prior, but you wondered if this dinner had something to do with that.

In Yoongi’s room, something similar was happening, as Sambo fussed over his master’s robes.

“Sambo, enough,” Yoongi sighed. “I don’t have to look nice; she’s already my wife.”

Sambo scoffed. “I said the same thing to you about sending her those gifts, but you insisted then too.”

Yoongi glared at his eunuch without saying anything, mostly because he had no argument against that. He knew he shouldn’t have trusted the man; he’d done nothing but tease him about his crush since he found out.

Thankfully, your arrival cut Sambo’s fussing short – yet another thing he had to be grateful to you for, he supposed. It stung a little that his wife apparently knew more about politics than he did, but you seemed to want to help him, so there was that.

“Your Grace,” you greeted, bowing slightly.

“Good evening,” he responded. “Please, sit,” he invited, gesturing towards the table he had brought into his room just for this. He remembered how much you’d struggled with kneeling on the ground, and then getting up, the last time you’d come to visit him, and thought that this would make it easier for you.

You’d seen the table as soon as you entered the room, of course – it was kind of hard to miss, since the room was mostly empty. Accepting his offer with a gracious smile, you sat yourself down and clasped your hands together demurely in your lap. Yoongi sat across from you and nodded at the servant standing in the corner, and that was the signal for the food to start coming in.

To be honest, you’d expected to see Yoongi’s favourite dishes being served tonight, since everything at your wedding banquet had been his favourite foods, so you were pleasantly surprised to note that it was the food you’d been repeatedly requesting due to your cravings instead.

When the servants left, closing the doors after them, Yoongi spoke. “Please eat.” He gestured at the spread, and you acquiesced, picking up your chopsticks.

“Thank you for the advice,” he started.

The food you were holding with your chopsticks fell back onto your bowl of rice as your hand went limp in shock. “Wh-what?” Of all the things he could have said, that was the one you’d been expecting the least. In all honesty, you’d expected something more like admonishment for interfering – and a lack of other punishment that would serve as tacit acknowledgement that you’d been right. It was how your father had been with your mother.

To be fair, it looked like it was costing him dearly to thank you. “You were right about the tax,” he ground out.

“Oh…” You recovered quickly and nodded, graciously accepting his thanks.

“But don’t make a habit of interfering,” he continued. Right… so there was a catch, after all.

You rolled your eyes. “Of course not,” you said sarcastically. “I’m just the brainless baby incubator, after all. It’s not like I grew up here, or have any knowledge and experience of palace politics, or anything of the sort.”

“You’re a woman—” he thundered, slamming his chopsticks down on the table.

“I am your empress,” you cut him off. “You insisted on marrying me precisely because of my bloodline, so I will not be sidelined, especially when we both know you could use all the help you can get!”

“Help that I can get from my advisors,” he huffed.

“One of your ministers was literally just exiled for corruption, so I don’t know why you want to throw in your lot with them, but sure.” You rolled your eyes. “Now, if that was all, I think I can take my meal in my own quarters tonight.”

Unfortunately, your dramatic exit was foiled by how much you struggled to get out of your seat. Biting back his smile at how cute you looked with your belly, Yoongi leapt to your aid – you were, after all, still his wife and carrying his child, so it was the least he could do.

You pinned him with a glare as he got up to assist you, but were left with no choice but to accept, holding on to his proffered arm and letting him basically hoist you up. “If you need anything…” he started, looking slightly contrite.

“Don’t worry, Your Grace,” you said. “I might be ‘just a woman’ –” your tone made it clear that you were mocking him, and he had the grace to look slightly chagrined – “but I am the empress, and I am carrying the heir to Joseon, so I get everything I ask for.”

“Good, that’s good…” he looked slightly shifty now, and you couldn’t help but feel a little bad for him. He’d been acting like a bit of a dick, but to be fair, you supposed, it wasn’t like his attitude was uncommon. With Ling’s reminder ringing in your ears, you took his hand and brought it to the swell of your belly. Your child was strong and healthy, and even through the layers of your clothes Yoongi could feel the flutter of kicks.

“Wow…” he looked entranced, and you couldn’t help but smile at him. Your child had been conceived in hatred and anger, but you were determined that you would not raise him in that environment. No, he would know only love. You were sure of it.

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

Even though the dinner hadn’t gone according to plan, it was still somewhat of a shift in your relationship with your husband. Now when your paths crossed, he smiled at you instead of just walking by stonily.

The gifts from your secret admirer continued too, which made things kind of confusing for you. On the one hand, you were trying to make this thing with your husband work, if only so that your child could grow up in a positive environment. It was difficult enough growing up in the palace, something you were keenly aware of.

And yet, the continued attention from this unknown person was starting to tug at your heartstrings. You hardly knew who it was but being shown kindness without any ulterior motive was certainly enough for you to think fondly of your secret admirer. He didn’t send gifts that often, usually once every other week or so, but each one brought a smile to your face. Sometimes it was your favourite flower, or a snack from another part of the world, or a cute trinket from the market, but all of them were equally dear to you.

The fluttering feeling that you got in your chest when you saw that he’d left you another gift was somewhat tempered by the guilt over the whole situation. Were you allowed to enjoy this attention? You looked furtively around, slightly worried that someone was going to knock the Japanese cakes out of your hand.

“You know,” Sambo said, standing next to Yoongi, who was peering at you from his hidden position behind a wall, “Some of your subjects might find it unseemly for their emperor to spend his days spying on his wife.”

“Shut up,” Yoongi grumbled, although the words had no heat to them, given how distracted he currently was. He hoped you liked the cakes.

“If you want to spend time with her, you can just ask, you know,” Sambo pointed out. “Haven’t you two been getting along better lately?”

“She still gets annoyed at me every time,” he sighed. “I don’t want to upset her, she looks miserable enough as is.”

Sambo, watching you rub the small of your back as Ling fussed over you, had to agree. At eight months pregnant, you looked fit to pop. “Well, she’ll give birth soon, and then things will be better,” he said, patting the emperor on the back. “You really need to be more discreet, though. She can tell it’s you from a mile away.”

Yoongi looked over at Sambo and scowled. “No way,” he denied.

“Really? So there are lots of men walking around decked out in the emperor’s robes, and have blonde hair, then?”

“Fine.” Yoongi sulked. “Let’s go, then.”

“You know you have a bunch of petitions to review, right?”

“I get it.”

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

To put it mildly, labour sucked. But at the end of it, you had a beautiful little boy, handed to you wrapped in a blanket. “Wow,” you marveled at your son, stroking his cheek with your thumb as you cuddled him close. Your own dear boy. Cradling him in your arms, it hardly mattered that he was a Min, that he represented the end of your house on the throne. Your son was all that mattered now.

Looking up, you saw Yoongi hovering by the entrance to the room, looking on hesitantly, as if he wasn’t sure if he would be welcome. The idea was laughable to you – he was the emperor, there was nowhere he couldn’t go. You remembered your own father striding around as if he owned the place, because he did. No matter how fond he’d been of your mother, it had always been clear in the way he acted that he knew he was the boss. At best, she was a favoured subordinate.

You could see some of that attitude in Yoongi, and you accepted it – that was how men were, after all. But sometimes, peeking through the haughty exterior, you caught glimpses of someone kind and considerate. Someone you could grow fond of.

“Come in and meet him,” you invited.

As he came closer, he breathed, “It’s a boy?” His voice was slightly choked.

Smiling, you nodded. He knelt next to you and peered into the blanket, staring down at his son for the first time. Then he turned his head slightly to regard you. “You look beautiful,” he complimented, and you looked up, surprised. You didn’t know exactly what you looked like, but you were sure you were a mess after labour and childbirth. Your hair was a matted, sweaty mess, and you were dressed simply, in a cotton underdress.

Still, from the way he watched you holding the baby, you could have been dressed in the most beautiful of clothes and jewels.

“Do you want to hold him?” you asked, and his eyes lit up.

“Can I?” he asked. You nodded, passing the little bundle over to him.

“My son,” he said softly, leaning his head down to get closer to the baby. “Min Man-bok.” The name had been chosen by the astrologers, who said it would bring him great fortune throughout his life. You hoped it was true. This boy would grow up to be the emperor that united the warring houses of Min and L/n, and finally put an end to all the senseless violence that had stolen the lives of your brothers, and later, your uncle.

As you watched them – your husband and your son – you felt a sense of contentment like you’d never known before. In that moment, it hardly mattered that they were the emperor and the crown prince, that the weight of the kingdom rested upon your baby’s tiny shoulders. For that brief window, they could just be… yours.

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

The birth of your son changed everything. The gifts that had once been so dear to you because they meant that someone was out there thinking of you now seemed almost uncomfortable, like unwanted attention that threatened the security of your family. You knew it was ridiculous – after all, the giver of said gifts had been quietly doing so for months, never trying to push his luck or making his identity known to you.

Still, though, as you became closer to your husband, that nagging feeling that you were doing something wrong wouldn’t leave you. Thankfully, the gifts seemed to dry up, and you wondered if your anonymous admirer was really that astute. Whoever he was, you owed him your gratitude. He’d known when to start, and, it seemed, just when to stop.

In actuality, Yoongi had just been too busy to think about sending the gifts. Having a son took up much of the time that he wasn’t already spending governing, which had also increased in the past month or so. There was so much entertaining to do, as the lords and ladies of the land came to express their fealty to the crown prince, and as Yoongi made ever more ambitious diplomatic alliances with other kingdoms now that his reign was secured with the birth of his son.

In whatever spare time he had, he was constantly hanging around you and Man-bok, fawning over his son and enjoying your company. Despite your confinement, you thwarted the rules by sitting right outside your door to get a little sun and fresh air, often holding your son while you did so. It was a beautiful sight, one he wanted to continue to drink in for the rest of his days.

It was no surprise, therefore, that his priority wasn’t sending cute gifts to you anonymously, since he was always around you. When your confinement finally ended, he threw a little two-person party, ordering the kitchen to make all of the food you’d been craving since you were pregnant that had been off-limits for you, including your old favourites. He even managed to get the cook from your country estate into the palace, to make your childhood favourite.

“Thank you for dinner,” you said at the end of it, resisting the urge to lean back on your hands to give your stomach more space.

“Thank you,” he countered. “I am forever in your debt.”

“It was my duty,” you demurred. It was the truth – you’d always known that it would be your job to bring heirs to your husband.

“Still.” There was a beat of silence as a servant rushed to fill your cups with rice wine. He lifted his cup to toast you. “You have brought new hope to this kingdom. An emperor who will unite the houses of Min and L/n.”

“I thought our marriage accomplished that,” you giggled. You might have had too much alcohol tonight, after almost a year of not having any.

“You really think so?” he breathed, looking at you like you’d hung the stars in the sky and told him they were for him.

“Yoongi…” It was the first time you’d called him by name. In your defense, the open, vulnerable way he was looking at you made it difficult to remember that he was a warrior king, despite the scar on his face that attested to his experience fighting a war. “Of course, Your Grace.” You recovered from your slip quickly, and you flushed slightly, hoping he wouldn’t remember it.

Of course, that was a doomed wish. He’d committed it to memory, the sound of your precious voice speaking his name, and in that almost fond and tender tone, too. He felt his heart squeeze in his chest, and knew he was done for.

When he left your quarters that night after dinner, he barely waited till he’d descended the steps to pump his fist in the air. That was the most successful interaction you’d had with him to date, not counting when Man-bok was born, of course, since he was pretty sure you were so exhausted you couldn’t snipe at him if you tried then.

“Your Grace!” Sambo, walking a step behind him, sounded scandalized.

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

“So, tonight went well,” Ling prompted as she helped you get ready for bed. You sat in front of her, letting her take the pins out of your hair and sighing in relief. Your updo was often twisted so tightly it pulled on your scalp, and the giant metal pins hurt, to say the least.

“How would you know that?” you murmured, trying to keep a straight face. Ling would never let you live this down if you confessed to her just how much you enjoyed the company of your husband these days. Not after you’d screamed so loudly and for so long about how you hated him and didn’t ever want him to touch you.

In your defense, he’d really been a nightmare to live with at the beginning, cold and angry, mistrustful of your intentions. Not that he’d had any reason to trust you based on the way you’d treated him. You still cringed to think of the angry, cruel words that had been exchanged between you. You’d mocked the scar on his face from your uncle, the previous emperor, and he’d taken pleasure in describing the way he ran his sword through him in exchange. You’d laughed at his tenuous grip on the throne, and he’d—

Well. Suffice it to say, both of you had moved past that.

Ling reached over you to shift the mirror so that you could see your own face in it. “You’ve always had a shitty poker face, milady,” she explained. “You can’t hide anything from me.”

You sighed. “I knew I should have gotten different servants when I came,” you responded without any heat.

“Please, as if you have the patience to teach someone else just how you like your morning routine,” Ling scoffed, recognizing your teasing for what it was. Finally removing the last pin from your hair, she smoothed her hands over it as it tumbled down your back, then picked up the brush to comb through it.

“You’re right. I guess I’m stuck with you,” you responded, tilting the mirror slightly so you could look at Ling in it.

“Whatever. Stop trying to change the subject,” Ling ordered. “What happened tonight? You looked so happy when he left, and he could barely hold back his grin.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not that,” you said defensively. “I’m barely even recovered from giving birth; I’m hardly ready for more.”

“All right,” Ling conceded, though you could tell from her tone that she was still amused. Belatedly, you realised that your defense hadn’t been about how you felt about your husband at all. “Have a good night, milady.”

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

Having a son changed everything. You knew, perhaps better than anyone else, save your brothers, the dangers that came with being an heir to the throne, and it worried you to pieces that his life would never be safe.

You’d told your husband before, completely unsympathetically, that this was what being the king would entail. Having people after you, coveting what was yours, always lurking in the shadows and waiting for a time to strike… the idea that your own son would be subject to the travails of being the emperor made you want to clutch him to your breast and never let him go.

Yoongi caught you in one of your moods one afternoon, sitting in the gazebo in your private gardens, leaning against a pillar as you rested your son against your thighs. You cooed at him as you played with his hands and feet, smiling as he laughed back at you, but the furrow of your brow gave you away.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, sitting down next to you. It was rare for you two to be alone – Ling and Sambo were usually hanging around, and Man-bok’s nanny and wet nurse weren’t too far from the baby either. But you’d wanted a little time to bond with your son alone, so they were hanging out by the pond a small distance away. Ling had become friends with the nanny and nurse, and they were more than happy to have a little free time to gossip.

You picked up your infant son’s hand and used it to wave at him. “Hello, daddy,” you said in a high-pitched baby voice, and Yoongi smiled tenderly at the both of you, although you were still looking down at Man-bok and didn’t see it.

“Hello, my son,” he replied, leaning in to pick Man-bok up. You straightened his clothes a little as Yoongi stood the baby up on his lap, bouncing him a little. Yoongi was truly a remarkably involved father, especially for being the emperor.

“Yoongi, I’m worried about Man-bok,” you confessed in a small voice, looking up at your husband for the first time. Even the scar on his face now was a reminder of how difficult it was to be the emperor – Yoongi had been lucky to escape with just a disfigured face. He hadn’t even lost his vision.

“What’s wrong with him?” Yoongi asked with a frown, turning the boy slightly in his grasp to inspect him. He looked healthy enough, but you never knew with babies, really.

“Nothing,” you rushed to reassure him. “It’s just that being the crown prince is dangerous, and being the emperor is even worse.” Your voice choked up as you explained. Saying the words out loud made them more real somehow, and you almost wished you hadn’t.

“Y/n…” Yoongi looked over at you, shifting Man-bok so that he was being held more securely against him. “Is this about your uncle?” At the beginning, he’d never thought much about the fact that you were related to the previous emperors, but now the fact that he’d basically murdered your uncle in cold blood hung over his head like the sword of Damocles.

“Y/n… I’m sorry.” The words stuck in his craw, but he forced himself to say them anyway. It was a lie, but if it was what you needed to feel better…

Instead of accepting his apology, you made a rude noise. “For what?” you asked.

“For your uncle…?” Confused now, Yoongi cocked his head at you and furrowed his brow.

“Why would you need to apologize? Of course you raised an army to take the throne. It was his fault for leaving potential heirs alive.” The nonchalant way you expressed that sentiment gave him pause. He’d never taken you for someone so cavalier about violence and death. “He did the same thing to my brothers.”

The way your lips tightened as you said it clued him in to the fact that that was what was really bothering you. Of course, your brothers. The two princes that your uncle had had imprisoned and then murdered to secure his rule. When your father had died, your uncle had been declared regent since the crown prince wasn’t old enough to rule, and he’d wasted no time cementing his own authority instead.

“Y/n…” You avoided his gaze, instead reaching for Man-bok. He relinquished the boy to you and you hugged him close, needing to feel your son’s warm, healthy body pressed against you. “I promise you,” he continued, his voice full of conviction. “Nothing will ever happen to our son. Not so long as I live and breathe.” Ducking in, he pressed a tender kiss to the top of Man-bok’s head.

“Really?” The faint hope in your voice made his heart clench. In all the time he’d spent alternately admiring your kindness and cursing your stubborn, know-it-all streak, he’d never seen the vulnerability that you were showing him now. In hindsight, it was silly that he hadn’t realized this earlier, but of course you were scarred from the civil conflict that had been raging. Your family was in the thick of it all, and as much as the men and women involved were royalty, they were also your blood relatives. Really, it was a wonder you’d turned out as normal as you had.

“I swear on my life.” He’d never meant anything as much as he did now.

“Thank you, Yoongi.” Holding Man-bok with one hand, you reached for him with the other, sliding your arm along his shoulder to pull him close for a kiss. It was sweet and tender, a wonderful, perfectly fitting first kiss. His eyes fluttered shut as you drew close, wanting to savour the moment for as long as he could. Your lips were soft and you smelled like roses, just like the perfume he’d given you in secret.

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

It was highly unusual for the emperor to share a bed with his empress. Intimacy was carefully planned based on auspicious dates, and after the deed was done, you both got dressed and went your separate ways. You knew that, and yet you slipped into his room that night, after Man-bok’s 100-day celebration.

You’d gotten mostly undressed after the banquet ended, grateful to be out of your restrictive clothing. Man-bok was sleeping, of course, with his nanny, and you’d dismissed Ling too after she helped you out of the empress robes. Dressed in just your pajamas, you pulled a warm shawl over your shoulders and left your quarters. You just had so much pent-up energy from earlier, and you needed to talk to someone about it.

“Hey,” you said softly, slipping in through the doors just as Sambo was leaving. He gave you a sideways glance, but you ignored it.

“Hey,” Yoongi greeted, smiling at you. He too was in his pajamas, already in bed, the covers pooling around his waist as he sat up. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, I just…” You swallowed, feeling a little silly now. This could have waited till tomorrow. “I guess I didn’t want the night to be over,” you confessed. It had been so much fun tonight, getting to meet and talk to everyone. Your sisters and old friends had come to the palace, and Man-bok had been so cute in his little ceremonial robes.

“I get it,” he said. “Come sit.”

You came closer, sliding the shawl off your shoulders, and knelt next to his futon. Illuminated in the soft light of the lamp nearby, the long blonde hair he’d left to tumble over his shoulders seemed to glow softly. Your own hair had been hastily put back in a bun – a lady never left her rooms with her hair down, after all. It was nowhere near as intricate as anything Ling could do for you, but it sufficed.

“Did you have a good time tonight?” he asked with a soft smile.

“You know I did,” you giggled, leaning closer.

“Yes, I saw you having a grand old time with your sisters,” he teased, fondness evident in his voice. Ever since the kiss you’d shared, your relationship had been evolving. Yoongi didn’t know if you would ever forgive him for what he’d done to your family – despite your dismissive attitude towards your uncle – but he was content with this. You letting your guard down around him, seeking him out and enjoying his company… it was more than he’d allowed himself to hope for.

“Oh, I haven’t seen them in over a year,” you enthused. “It was so nice to see them all again! Thank you for inviting them,” you said, more quietly now. “I know it wasn’t an easy decision, inviting the L/n clan tonight.” Despite everything, you knew he was still insecure about his rule.

“You’re welcome.” He smiled at you, then noticed for the first time the soft light glinting off the hairpin you were wearing, the one he’d bought for you. “Oh, you’re wearing the pin! I was right, it does look good on you,” he complimented.

“You— what?” Your voice was shaky, your eyes wide as you reached up to wrap your fingers around the pin, and Yoongi realized that he’d fucked up.

Just to be sure that it was the right one, you pulled it from your hair, causing the long locks to tumble over your shoulders. Brushing it aside impatiently, you inspected the pin. Sure enough, it was the same one that you’d received almost a year ago, and you’d never found out who sent it to you.

“It was you?” The words trembled, fragile in the darkness of the room, barely there, like a wisp of smoke.

“I… yes.” Yoongi was watching you carefully, his hands held out placatingly in front of him.

“But why?” It felt like your mind was shutting down, unable to reconcile this new information. Back when you’d gotten this pin, you could barely stand to be in the same room as your husband. You hadn’t even started being friendly until after Man-bok was born. To know that he hadn’t felt the same way, that he’d been quietly watching you, thinking of you…

“I just wanted to make you smile,” he said honestly with a half shrug.

“Yoongi…” Your voice was choked up, and he was starting to panic now, not quite sure what he’d done wrong. Even if you hadn’t welcomed his advances, he hadn’t overstepped, right? All he’d wanted to do was make you less miserable, and now he was thinking that he would have been better off leaving you alone altogether.

“Is… is that okay?” The words were hesitant, Yoongi ducking slightly to look at your face.

Sniffling, you nodded, swiping at your tears impatiently so you could look at him clearly. In the dim, flickering light, Yoongi’s face was the most beautiful, dear thing you’d ever laid eyes on. Your eyes roamed his face, seeing him as if for the first time. He was so handsome, your husband, your emperor.

“Are you disappointed? Is that why you’re crying?” Worry crinkled Yoongi’s brow. He knew he wasn’t the greatest catch. Throne aside, his hair was a strange colour and the scar running dramatically across his face marred him permanently. He was short and quiet, awkward, caustic… The insecurities came roaring to the forefront.

“No,” you denied, grabbing his hands and bringing them to your chest. You shuffled closer yet, so that your forehead rested against his. “I’m not disappointed at all. Yoongi…” you breathed, your eyes fluttering shut as you brushed your lips across his softly. “Thank you.” For caring about you even when you’d cursed him. For being by your side, even when you hadn’t known it. Just for being him.

Yoongi’s hand slipped from your grasp before reaching up to cup your face, his thumb running across your cheekbone tenderly. “You’re welcome.” He understood what you meant and responded in kind. “You give me more than you know, Y/n.”

The urge to give him more was rising within you. Holding onto his shoulders for balance, you swung one leg over his lap, so that you were straddling him. His hands went to your waist, supporting you and tugging you closer. “Y/n,” he groaned. “What do you want from me?”

Your response was unequivocal. “Everything.”

That was all the permission he needed. Yoongi’s hand travelled up from your waist to the back of your head, bringing you in for a fiery kiss. He poured all of the longing of the past months into it, his lips moving over yours with urgency. Try as you might to keep up, you couldn’t. You’d only had sex with him to conceive before, and it had always been a hasty, dispassionate affair. You didn’t know what to do with your hands or your mouth, your palms resting lightly on his shoulders. You liked this, enjoyed the way his tongue slid against yours, but your body was rigid with uncertainty.

“Y/n, are you okay?” Yoongi broke away from the torrid kiss to ask. His hand on your waist rubbed you soothingly as he leaned back to take a good look at you.

“Uh, yeah, I…” You stammered. “This isn’t like before,” you finally said. All you knew of sex was what he’d shown you before, quick thrusts with his hands holding onto your thighs while you clutched the bedsheets and tried not to let your pain and discomfort show.

It was vague, but Yoongi knew what you meant, and he flushed with shame. “I’m going to make it up to you, okay?” he said, wrapping his arms around you and turning so that you were lowered onto the futon. His forearms bracketed your body, holding his weight up as he lowered his head for another kiss. “I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he slurred against your lips, one hand reaching for the tie of your shirt.

“Yoongi,” you breathed, your hands sliding around his waist as you held on to his clothes, tugging him closer to you. You felt the hard press of his erection against your belly, and were filled with curiosity. Before, you’d never really wanted to get close to it, and he’d basically just shoved it into you with little fanfare. You’d never even gotten a good look before.

Undoing the ties to his trousers, you slid your hand in, running your fingers hesitantly along his cock.

“Fuck,” he breathed, and you jerked your hand back as if scalded.

“I’m sorry,” you started to apologize, and he backtracked immediately.

“No, no, you didn’t do anything wrong,” he reassured you, nosing at your chin before he trailed kisses down your neck. You sighed and tilted your head, giving him more room.

“Really?” you asked.

“Yes, really,” he said, sucking a little mark right over your collarbone. Emboldened now, you tried again, this time wrapping your hand softly around the shaft. His skin was soft here, and so smooth, but you could feel the steely hardness underneath.

“Ah, you’re so good,” he praised, and you started stroking him lightly, carefully.

“Allow me,” he breathed as he slid his hand down your body, groaning as he found the wetness between your legs. “So perfect for me,” he sighed as he started stroking your clit softly, watching you for your reaction.

You moaned luxuriantly, throwing your head back as your hips rocked. You’d never felt anything like this before, and if this was what sex could be, it was no wonder everyone seemed to like it so much. As you grew distracted with the pleasure suffusing your being, your hand slowed down and then stopped on his erection, but he didn’t mind. Coaxing the sighs and moans from you was more than enough for him.

“I’m going to put my finger in now,” he warned you, and your eyes opened in confusion.

“Why?” you wondered.

“I have to stretch you out, love, so you can take me easily,” he answered, leaning down to kiss you.

“You didn’t before,” you pointed out, and he grimaced.

“Please forget everything I did before,” he groaned, sounding very much like he was in pain. “None of it was right, and I want to show you how much I love you.”

“You—what?” That was new. You hadn’t expected it so soon, if ever.

“Oh, fuck.” He reared back at that and clapped his hands over his mouth in horror. “I didn’t mean to say that! Please ignore it,” he pleaded. Honestly, he wouldn’t blame you if you put your clothes back on and ran out of there right now. What an embarrassing lapse of decorum.

To his surprise, you did none of that, instead wrapping your hands around his wrists and tugging them away from his face. “Did you mean it?”

“Y/n—” he whined, his face hot.

“Yoongi, please,” you said, and the tenderness in your voice gave him courage.

“Yes,” he admitted. “But I don’t expect you to say it back! I know it’s too soon, and you might never feel that way about me, and that’s okay, really, I—”

You cut him off by tugging him close to you and kissing him. “I love you too,” you murmured softly when you separated.

“Really?” His voice was small, and you smiled as you nodded.

“Fuck, I’m going to make it all better,” he swore, his voice deepening into a growl towards the end. With a renewed sense of purpose, he pushed you back into the futon. His hands were everywhere as they stripped you of your clothing, and you felt a little exposed lying there bare for him to see. You were more than aware that your body hadn’t quite bounced back from pregnancy, and he’d never seen you completely nude anyway.

The sheer reverence reflected in his gaze did much to boost your confidence, though. “You’re so gorgeous,” he rasped, bending to tug a nipple into his mouth. You cried out, your back arching as he laved at it, his hand returning to its previous mission of getting you ready to take him. His thumb rolled over your clit gently as he slid his fingers into you, first one, then two, pumping slowly to loosen you up. The wet, lewd sound soon echoed through the room.

“Yoongi,” you breathed to get his attention, pushing his shirt over his shoulders. The tie had already come undone and the front was hanging rather uselessly by his sides, and it wasn’t difficult to remove it. Yoongi got the message, though, stripping himself off with far less fanfare than he’d done for you before coming back with a vengeance, as if the seconds he’d spent away from your body were too much to bear.

“Yoongi, c’mon,” you begged inarticulately, pulling his body down to yours by wrapping your arms and legs around him.

“Stop it,” he admonished. “I’m going to get you nice and ready for me. You have to be patient.” But you could see the way his jaw clenched.

“Yoongi, I want you to fuck me,” you whined, writhing on the mattress.

That certainly got his attention, and he looked back up at your face, seeing the expression of wild abandon painted across your features. Your eyes were shut and your mouth open as you lost yourself to the pleasure he was giving you, long hair spread across his pillow.

“You ruin me,” he accused as he withdrew his hand, using the slick coating his fingers to lube up his cock before he positioned it at your entrance. You moaned and arched, tightening your legs around him to draw him in deeper.

Before, when he’d done this, it had hurt. You’d been dry and he hadn’t put any effort into preparing you or making it a pleasurable experience for you, and you tensed up, remembering how unpleasant the experience had been before. You wanted to make him feel good, though, because he’d done the same for you, and it was that which motivated you to urge him into your body.

When he slid in, inch by glorious inch, contrary to your expectations you didn’t feel pain. No, there was a stretch, but it was intensely pleasurable, and you writhed against him. “Ah, Yoongi, it feels so good,” you gasped.

“Yeah?” he said, sucking marks into your neck. “You like that?” When he finally bottomed out, he rested his forehead against yours, panting as he tried to retain some control.

“Yes, Yoongi,” you moaned, wriggling and clenching down on him, desperate for more.

“Fuck, don’t move,” he gasped, his eyes wide as he clutched your hip. “I want to make this good for you.”

“It is good,” you insisted, ignoring his instructions.

“Y/n, you don’t even know,” he groaned, bracing himself as he started to move his hips. He was gentle at first, making sure that it didn’t hurt, but you were impatient, whining that you wanted more, and before he knew it, he was really going at it, one arm hooked around your leg to hold you open for him.

“Yoongi, yes, yes,” you exulted, thrilled. The expression on his face, his brow furrowed tightly, was endlessly exciting for you, and you loved the motion of his jaw as he clenched hard, focusing on pleasing you.

Adjusting his position, he started thrusting again, this time skidding against your g-spot with every thrust. To really seal the deal, he reached down to rub at your clit with his fingers, drinking your every sound and movement up eagerly. You raked your nails down his back as your legs tightened around him, clenching down on him hard as you came.

Faced with the sensation of your walls fluttering around him rhythmically, he couldn’t hold it together much longer, pressing his forehead into your neck as he reached his own orgasm, groaning as his hips stuttered sporadically.

When it was over, he slumped down over you, barely remembering to tilt his body at the last second so that he slid off you and onto the futon. “I love you,” he gasped, throwing one sweaty arm over your chest to drag you closer to him so he could press kisses over your face. “I love you so much.”

Smiling, you turned your head, rubbing your nose against his affectionately. “I love you too, Your Grace.” The teasing lilt in your voice as you called him that warmed his heart. Before he could say much more, however, you yawned and turned, slinging your arm around his waist. “Good night,” you murmured, burying your face in his chest.

“Good night.” He rested his hand on the back of your head. His empress, his wife. His love.

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

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[yeojaa]

finders keep hers, ii.

read parts one and three!  continued because i have zero self-control and i love/hate these idiots and like ... i just wanna give people what they want.  ty to @hobi-gif​​ for always beta reading and you (yes, you!) for normal reading.  i lob you!  xo

ps.  picture these versions of jimin, tae, yoongi, and jungkook.  

pairing.  jjk x (named) f!reader.  rating.  still explicit, lolz.  tags.  smut!  a lil bit of pining!  jealousy!  also, cameos from the other boys, dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex (be safe luvs!), and a bunch of other semi-vanilla things.  wc.  4.3k.

“Who’s that?”  Jimin means the pretty blonde that’s attached to your best friend, snug against his hip like some kind of conjoined monster - a distant relative to the thing that’s rearing its own ugly green head from its slumber in your chest.

“I don’t know.”  Lie.

Because Jungkook’s been talking your ear off about her for the past three weeks, regaling you with details you’d rather not know.  Like how she does yoga at the crack of dawn and he picks her up from every class.  She, apparently, looks incredible in spandex and loves her green smoothies.  Or how she went to private school in Belgium and she’s got - in his words - the cutest accent.  He’s mimicked it once or twice, demonstrating how her vowels don’t round like a local’s would.

You’ve heard too much about her and it’s driving you crazy.  

The angel at your side - because that’s what Jimin is, with his feather grey hair and rounded Cupid’s bow - takes a sip of his drink, studying you curiously over the Baccarat rim.  You can see the curiosity swimming in his eyes, painted across his features in broad strokes.

You return his stare without blinking, silently daring him to say something.  He knows better - considering he’s been your shoulder to cry on more than one weak-kneed, booze-laden occasion.

“Do you want to go upstairs?”  Meaning the rooftop, away from the crowd that dominates the 44th floor penthouse.  

You shake your head - a little motion that wiggles your bangs free from behind your ears - and take a generous sip of the Veuve that bubbles about in your champagne flute.  You’re not celebrating anything - this is just how Jungkook parties.  With bottles and strangers and deep bass thrumming so loudly you can feel it chatter your teeth. 

Another sip and your glass is empty.  “No.”  You seize another from the bar you’re both leaning against, wondering idly whether it’s your third or fourth or maybe even seventh glass.  You’d lost count about thirty minutes ago when Jungkook had strolled in with her on his arm, clothes dishevelled and that stupid grin on his face.  

Of course he’d been late to his own party and of course he was sporting a lipstick stain on the collar of his otherwise pristine white Oxford.

“You sure?”  You know Jimin means well but you can’t stand the heat of his stare or how it feels like pity digging itself beneath your bones.  You don’t need - nor want - his sympathy.  Not now. 

“Yes,”  you snap more harshly than you mean to.  A wounded animal lashing out, biting the hand that feeds it. 

Luckily, Jimin knows you - has, for nearly the last decade - and he takes it in stride.  Chin bounces, the smallest of smiles offered in penance for his pushiness.  He doesn’t need to apologize and really, he shouldn’t, but he’s Park Jimin and he’s far too kind so he does it anyway.

“I’m going to hunt down some snacks.  If you need me, just come find me.”  

It feels infinitely worse when he presses a kiss to your temple and disappears into the throng of people, leaving you alone with the thoughts that buzz around in your head (or maybe that’s just from the liquor).

“Replaced, huh?”  You’d recognize that voice anywhere.  It rings in your ears when you’re trying to work, forcing its way into your skull when you’re twenty sheets deep in Excel fixing some junior’s mistake.  You hear it more often than you like, both in the office and when you least expect it.

You barely turn to acknowledge the broodingly handsome brunet who has seemingly materialized out of thin air.  You don’t need to turn to him to see how good he looks, all carefully tousled hair and that self-assured smile.  

“What’re you talking about?”  It’s easier to play dumb than to play directly into his hand.  You’d learnt that ages ago.  Kim Taehyung was a force to be reckoned with.  

“Look.”  A hand lands on your jaw, none-too-subtly guiding your stare in the direction you’d been so adamantly turned away from.  Jungkook and his flavour of the week are locked in a fight to see who can eat each other’s face more thoroughly, tongues so far down the other’s throat that you feel your own gag reflex kick up.  “Shouldn’t you be over there?”

Concern flares, streaking heat across your cheeks.  How did he know?  “What?”

There’s a twinkle in his eyes, mischief dancing in his irises as he studies you, fingers burning impossibly warmer over your skin.  “You’re best friends, aren’t you?  Why’re you standing here by yourself?”

You almost laugh, relief crashing over you with enough force to knock a breath from your lungs. 

“Tae, leave her alone.”  It’s your knight in shining armour - or finely woven Saint Laurent cashmere, in this case - a Manhattan in hand and a scowl on his face.  You thank your lucky stars, not bothering to conceal the smirk you shoot at the reprimanded playboy. 

“Yeah, Tae.  Leave me alone.” 

He doesn’t need to be told a third time, though he levels both you and your saviour with a narrowed stare.  It stirs something uncomfortable in the pit of your stomach, like a snake uncoiling and preparing to strike.  You think he might say something - you can see him playing through the scenarios in his head - but he thinks better of it at the last second, draining his beer and turning away without another word.

You watch Taehyung’s crown of inky hair disappear among the crowd.  It’s only once his loudly patterned Burberry shirt is out of sight that you swivel your gaze to the man at your side.  “Thanks.”  

“Don’t mention it.”  That distinct gummy smile fills his expression.  It looks good on him - but then again, most things do.  With his perfectly mused strands - currently a flattering shade of teddy bear brown and honey blonde - and observant feline features, Min Yoongi is handsome in a way that sneaks up on you, dressing himself in shadows and presenting it at the strangest times.

Like now, for instance, when you’re growing tired of watching your best friend act like a high school freshman. 

“You okay, though?”  

“Why - do I not look like it?”  

You don’t miss the way his attention drags lazily over your features and then, almost pointedly, down the lissome column of your frame.  How he pauses appreciatively where wine spills over cream, the mulberry silk of your wrap dress standing in stark contrast to the porcelain of your skin.  It ties neatly at the smallest point of your waist - a gift begging to be torn apart.

Something crackles between you.  You’re not sure where it is or where it starts but it fizzles, bright white and dangerous.  A livewire you’re suddenly very eager to inspect.

“I’d say you look more than okay,”  he returns dryly, in that low timbre of his. 

You feign surprise, lashes fluttering like a schoolgirl.  “Are you flirting with me, Yoongi?”

It’s a testament to his confidence - that lazy swagger that fits itself into the slope of his jaw, the soft shape of his mouth, the inescapable focus of his stare - when he advances a step.  There’s already hardly any space between you but he eats it up like a starved predator, crowding you with ease. 

“Do you want me to be?”  The bitterness of whiskey fans across your face, creeping heat over your cheek and up the delicate shell of your ear.  The scent of his cologne follows - distinctly masculine and reminiscent of the sea.  

“Are you answering a question with a question?”  You know it isn’t what he’s looking for but you offer it anyway, paired with a taunting smile and a coquettish turn of your head.  

His jaw pulls almost imperceptibly;  it’s only your close proximity that gives away the thrumming muscle.  Something entices you to reach out - frustration or, more likely, the bottomless champagne - and you do, the pad of your thumb soothing over the tension.  You don’t expect him to lean into your touch and you nearly retreat when he does. 

The flat of his own hand rises, piano-honed fingers threading easily between yours.  There’s a different kind of smile presenting itself now, reckless at the edges and dressed in an unspoken challenge.  He presses it wordlessly into your palm, edge of enamel catching on the baby soft underside of your hand.

You feel the livewire now.  It’s a flash of lightning, searing a billion volts through every limb.

It’s a surprise that you find your voice so easily, though it comes reedy and vaguely out of breath.  “That’s a yes.”  You’re mimicking the motion of his mouth, dragging your own lip through the cage of your teeth.  He watches, unblinking.

Crystal rim replaces the warmth of your hand as he drains the amber liquid in a single motion, nearly slamming the glass down beside you.  You’d turn to make sure it’s not in a million little pieces - but you’re far too distracted by the softness of his lips, how he tastes strongly herbaceous and smokey.

The first thought to your mind is that Min Yoongi kisses nothing like Jeon Jungkook.

The second, well - that’s stolen away, disappearing into a haze of desire when he sweeps the wet muscle of his tongue across your bottom lip.  He does it once then repeats the motion with an addendum of enamel, turning his polite request into a gentle demand you’re all too willing to meet.

Broad, soft palms find the shape of you beneath your dress, one gliding easily over silk to rest comfortably across the swell of your hip while the other ascends in tandem, finding a home over the column of your throat. There’s no aggression in the way he moves and claims you.  He trades force for grace, threading passion where his tongue swipes and his teeth mark.  

It’s a slow burn rather than a raging inferno - scorched earth following a thunderstorm.

Yoongi’s touch is deliberate, each stroke of skin over skin meant to entice you.  He does it well, with practiced ease - a sweep of his thumb over the hidden lace of your bra, the press of his fingers into the sensitive softness of your neck.  

Even how he devours you whole is measured, calculated.  He isn’t an overeager teenager looking for a quick fuck;  he wants to indulge like a king at his last feast.  

“You taste good,”  he hums against your lips, bitten cherry red and glossy with his spit.  “Look so pretty, too.”  

Praise from Yoongi doesn’t come often so you bask in it, delirium and liquor painting your smile unabashed.  It pulls low and slow, spilling like stars into the darkness of your eyes, the black of your pupils that devour the iris whole.  

“You haven’t even tasted the sweetest part.”  

It comes crashing out of your mouth like a freight train, dressed in champagne-fueled salaciousness and paired with fluttering lashes.  A part of you wonders whether you’re being too forward but at this point, you can’t bring yourself to care.  Between the alcohol and his touch, you’re drunk in more ways than one. 

He doesn’t seem to mind, though.  Not if his grin says anything, framed in danger and delight.  It’s a heady mixture - an aphrodisiac in the form of a person’s smile.  “Have to fix that then, don’t we?”  

You’re ready to take him up on it - ready to do a lot of things, frankly - when a voice presents itself just beyond Yoongi’s shoulder.  

“Fix what?”

Of course it’d be Jungkook.  

You turn your attention to him first - you can feel Yoongi’s heavy-lidded stare trained on you when you pull away, when the warmth of your body retreats just enough that you can focus on something other than the overwhelming desire that sparks between the two of you.  

Your best friend is standing not three feet away, arms folded over his chest in a way that reads like a surly nightclub bouncer or a begrudging boss.  It’s nothing like the sunny radiance he normally wears - a byproduct of being rich and handsome and far too charming for his own good.  You’re curious whether it’s the alcohol - you can see it still, swimming in his eyes and turning them hazy - or the fact that blondie isn’t at his side.  Had she left him to fend for himself and now he was taking it out on you?

He repeats himself when neither you nor Yoongi answer, an edge to his voice you don’t expect.

“Nothing.”  You, again, speak first.  You don’t miss the way your answer sounds more like coddling, sweeping reassurance off your tongue.  

Yoongi retreats a step, turning on his heel enough to position himself partially facing both you and Jungkook.  At this angle, you study his profile, trying to find the ways emotion fits among his features.  It’s a lost cause, though - he’s always had an incredible poker face. 

“I was just saying her belt was a bit—”  You catch the mischief that pulls the corner of his mouth high, revealing pink gums.  “—loose.”

A sharp inhale follows immediately after.  You don’t even realize it’s you until Jungkook is speaking, expression set and muscle pumping in his jaw.  You’d think it was hot if it weren’t so goddamn uncomfortable.  “Yeah?”

Sweet Yoongi is utterly unbothered, nonplussed as he adjusts the timepiece on his wrist.  “Yeah.”

Watching the two interact is akin to sitting front-row at Wimbledon, your gaze bouncing between the two men like they’re whipping a fluorescent yellow ball between them.  It’s so unbearable you have to remind yourself that they’ve been friends for years.  

“I’m heading out,”  Yoongi says, rather abruptly.  He sounds almost bored, training his focus back on you for these last few moments.  “Call me.”

You nod dumbly, watching his retreating back with an equally dumb look on your face. 

“What the hell was that?”  Jungkook’s taken up his hyung’s place, dangerously close and with a sour expression on his face.  You almost want to make fun of him for it - how he looks like he’s just sucked on an underripe lemon.  When he levels you with that look, though, you think better of it.  Time and place and all that.

You don’t meet his eyes.  “Was what?”  

“That.”  

The same edge presents itself again.  It mixes with something you can’t place, colouring his words an alarming shade of red that has your brow furrowing and mouth following suit.  You don’t appreciate the tone and you say as much, finally meeting his stare with defiance burning away the residual liquor in your system.  “None of your business.”

Whatever he’d been expecting, this isn’t it.  Brows shoot high, tongue rounding the interior of his cheek.  You’d recognize that look anywhere.  It’s the look that always gets him what he wants.

Which is why, once he’s abruptly kicked all of his guests out - to a chorus of boos and what the hells!  - you’re on your back in the middle of his living room.  Your dress - the poor, beautiful thing - lies in a heap somewhere in the kitchen, possibly caught across the back of one of his bar stools, and his clothes act like a trail of breadcrumbs leading from the front door.  Shirt, pants, socks.  

All he’s left in is black Calvin Klein boxer briefs.  It complements your own La Perla bra well - all delicate lace and macrame.  

“Say it again,”  he demands from between your legs, knees hooked over his shoulders as he coaxes you to another orgasm.  One shapely forearm rests across your hip, pressure heavy on your abdomen as you clench pathetically around his fingers.  He’s tapping a near brutal rhythm against your g-spot, curling two fingers within you until you’re seeing stars and too fucked-out to remember what you’re supposed to be saying.

Jungkook has no sympathy, though.  

He repeats himself with gravel in his throat, pad of his thumb ghosting over the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs.  You tremble with each pass, seeking more friction;  your back is arching with delirious need, hips rolling of their own accord.  It’s almost inconsequential against the weight of him.  

“Say it,”  he barks - a petulant child demanding a toy.  

“You’re better!”  It’s more a broken shriek, a sob that wrenches forth and fits lamely with the words he so desires.  It almost isn’t good enough but he thinks he’s dragged this on long enough.  He hasn’t even had his fun yet and you’re already shaking with oversensitivity. 

“Better than who?”  The question comes in a warm breath that has you bucking toward the source - or trying to, at least.  You’re so needy he can’t help but laugh - a far cry from your usual too-good-for-cuddling self - the sound muffled by the slick that coats your thighs and drips down your slit, making the sweetest mess.  

“Than anyone.” 

He tuts, withdraws his fingers from your obscenely wet walls, and studies the strands that connect them.  Pink tongue glides over his index before he’s slotting both digits against his cheek, indulging in the taste of you.  If he weren’t so focused on the conversation at hand, he’d be drinking directly from the source.  “Not just anyone, baby.”

You look almost shy - or at least as shy as you can look with your throat and shoulders painted with bruises and bites, chest heaving. 

“Than Yoongi.”  

“Don’t you forget it, sweetheart,”  he coos, so kindly you almost forget about the merciless edging he’s just done, bringing you to the precipice of bliss before ripping it away.  

You seek him out - the kiss-swollen shape of his mouth, the unyielding contours of his back - like you need him, like your trembling touch might coerce him into giving you what you want.  You kiss him as if you’re hoping to distract him, granting him a sexpot moan when you lose the hard fought war of tongue and teeth.  He thinks you think he won’t notice when you begin rutting against him, desperately seeking relief against the hard curve of his cock.  

The devilish side of him wants to call you out on it but it feels a little too good, your cunt soaking through the thin cotton of his briefs. 

“Someone’s needy.”  He bows above you, shoulders rounded to crowd you deeper into the couch cushions, and purrs the words directly into your ear, punctuating them with sharp, unrelenting glides of his teeth.  

You snap with far less malice than you intend and far more desperation than you want.  “Shut up.” 

“Watch it.”  This time, it’s punctuated by a sharp slap against your clit.  You jolt beneath him, a long drawn out whine his reward.  “Don’t you want me to let you come, baby?”

“Not if you’re going to be an asshole about it.”  He’d probably believe you more if you weren’t breathless and still, perhaps subconsciously, grinding yourself up against him. 

“I’m the asshole?”  The way Jungkook says it makes you bristle.  “You were the one making out with one of my friends.”

“I’m not your girlfriend!”

“So what?  Doesn’t mean you’re allowed to do that.”

And that’s when it hits you like a ton of bricks.  It crashes into your feeble rib cage, a fast ball meeting its mark with perfect precision.  Your heart thumps pathetically before folding in on itself - a catcher’s mitt for his cruel words. 

You don’t know what you’d expected.  You know your relationship and all the things it isn’t. 

(You still hadn’t asked where his latest playmate had disappeared off too - you’d been too busy with his head buried between your legs.)

So you try to ignore the tears that block your vision, how suddenly all you can taste is saltwater.  The most you can do is squeeze your eyes shut, grinding your molars into a fine powder with the tension in your jaw.  Now is not the time. 

“Fuck you.”

He laughs, dismissive and amused.  The Calvin Klein band now sits halfway down his thighs, his swollen head tapping experimentally on your equally swollen clit.  He’s not even looking at you - far too interested in the way your essence coats his length. 

“That’s what we’re doing, baby.”  

Even when he speaks, he’s still staring down at the apex of your thighs, pressing the tip of his aching cock between your lips.  You take him so well, your walls burning around the unrelenting, slow press of his hips.  He’d fuck you every day if you’d let him.  You’d actually tried it once, for a week, when your office had a round of layoffs and your stress was at an all-time high. 

“God, you’re so fucking wet.”  It’s praise he offers often, always far too pleased with the way you ruin your underwear.  “Is this all for me?”

It’s hard to stay mad at him when he’s filling you up like this.  Still, you try, holding hostage the sounds you know he likes to hear.  You swallow them, biting down so hard on your bottom lip that it throbs.

He doesn’t like that very much - burying himself to the hilt in a single thrust to elicit some sort of response.  “I asked you a question.”

You can’t deny him.  

A moan bounces around in your mouth, forced out when he pulls out nearly all the way and snaps back in, balls smacking lewdly against your ass.  He’s got your legs propped up over his shoulders, thighs spread wide as he watches your pussy stretch around his cock.  You’re folded nearly in half and his palms span your hips - perfect for him to hold you in place and fuck into you at a relentless pace. 

At this angle, his cock brushes the sensitive spot against your pelvic wall.  It’d be too much on its own, but he knows this position well and grinds down against you every time he pistons in.  The stimulation against your clit is otherworldly, bringing you right back to the edge like flipping a switch. 

“What was that?”  

“I-i-it’s all for you.”  You’re stuttering either because he’s bouncing you on his dick so well or because you’re about to come.  Maybe both.  He likes that. 

“That’s right.”  He maintains a firm grip on your side with a single hand, the other reaching to palm roughly at your breast.  You’re already straining against the delicate fabric of your bra - he hardly has to do anything but tweak and pinch your bud and you’re clawing at his own chest, manicured nails seeking to do the same to him. 

You miss your mark once or twice - you’re having troubles keeping your attention focused on anything but the tension in your core - but when you do, you’re rewarded with a stutter of Jungkook’s hips. 

“Do that again,”  he pants, resuming his unrelenting pace. 

You tweak his nipple sharply, soothing one then the other with a pass of your thumb.  The sensation starts in his belly, an electroshock in his groin that has him growling, the sound reverberating out of his chest with great need. He shifts, reclining back on his muscular calves as he peers down at your blissed out face and pretty, messy cunt. 

He’s desperate for release, your fluttering walls far too wet and warm around him.  “You wanna come, sweetheart?”  While he asks, he doesn’t need an answer - he’ll get you there anyway. 

Subtly adjusting his position, he drags one of your legs to join the other, both now propped against his left shoulder.  He keeps a commanding grip on your hip with that same hand;  his right snakes between your legs, seeking out the pearl of pleasure that’s all of a sudden assaulted with far too much pressure (from his hand and your own clenching thighs and what feels like a million other things). 

He can feel the tremors before they present themselves in your legs, the tightening in your pussy mimicking the way your hand fists over his heart.  There’ll be angry red lines for days to come - a literal x marks the spot on his otherwise unblemished honey skin. 

“Come on, baby,”  he croons, encouraging as always as he thumbs your clit in gentle, repetitive motions and fucks into you so hard and deep you can hardly breathe.  

Your face screws into an expression of euphoria, mouth rounding as the coil snaps and ecstasy surges through your veins.  It’s like an explosion of colour - fireworks igniting you from the inside out - and you’re crying, the fourth orgasm of the night swallowing you whole.  You’re squeezing him so tight it almost hurts. 

It’s so utterly hot that he finds his own high effortlessly, your walls milking him for all he’s worth.   He spills inside you - thank fucking god for IUDs - and fucks his cum deeper, riding out his release until he feels himself softening.  He gently removes your legs from his shoulders, pressing a surprisingly chaste kiss to your ankle as he pulls out and settles beside you. 

Even your little mewl of displeasure can’t deter him when he pushes two fingers past your swollen lips, gathering up the cum that’s spilling out and pushing it back in.  At least he’s gentle, offering another kiss - this time to your hip bone. 

“Stay the night?”  He seldom asks.  You always say no. 

This time you don’t and he carries you to his bedroom, your face hidden against his neck.  You’re left on his neatly made bed as he draws a bath - something he’s done a handful of times throughout the decade and a half friendship you’ve shared, knees pressed together and exhausted. 

When he comes back and picks you up, you nearly miss what he says.  It’s almost lost to the soothing scent of lavender and the sound of running water.  

“Don’t do it again.”  

You’re not sure what he means when he says that.  You’re too afraid to ask so you say nothing.  He doesn’t repeat himself either, instead leaving you on the edge of his tub with a fluffy white bathrobe and a kiss to your forehead. 

Somehow, that’s even worse.

[randomly-a-fan]

‘IT’ is Vacation Time

From “Space Clown Baby Sitter” [Link to the Prologue] Pennywise and Aquarius have found a ‘trusted’ Clown sitter to look after their eight-month son. So they decided to spend the weekend alone, just to have the time for themselves for once.

After saying goodbye to Archie, Aquarius took Pennywise to her old wagon where she used to live before she met him. It was a long walk, but it was worth the moment. The woods that Aquarius lives in is off limits, due to poisonous plants, snakes and insects. But Aquarius was immune to infections and can’t get sick and die; and Pennywise can’t be effected by the human world’s natural sources, so he can’t get infected either.

When Aquarius and Pennywise made it to her old circus wagon, her cat came out from under the wagon. “Hi Laverne!” Aquarius said as she crouched down to pet Laverne. She then noticed that Laverne was fat, so she assumes that Laverne has been eating well. Pennywise crouched down to pet the cat as well, since he had the love for animals. “I think Laverne likes you Penny.” Aquarius assumes. “Of course, animals look upon me all the time.” Pennywise explained.

After awhile, Aquarius took their bags and put it in her old wagon. The door was sticky and stiff at first, but she managed to open it to let the dust out. “Man... my shelter hasn’t changed a bit since I’ve left. Aquarius said as she was putting the bag on her double-twin bed. The first thing Pennywise noticed was a cardboard cutout of Heath Ledger Joker. “I’m assuming that you used to be The Joker fan?” Pennywise chuckled. Aquarius looked back at him with a smirk. “Still am... Whoever came up with the character description and characteristics is a genius.” Aquarius said before she blew the dust off the cardboard cutout, which causes them both to cough and sneeze. “Let’s go outside for some fresh air!” Aquarius choked. 

Aquarius thought that since the inside was dusty, she would clean her wagon a bit before night comes, or else they’ll be sneezing all night. While Aquarius does that, Pennywise thought it’d be a good time to call Papawise, to check to see if Archie is alright. So he borrowed Aquarius’s cellphone and call home. Only Papawise didn’t answer, but he did hear a squeal and coo. “Archie! Is that you? It’s daddy!” Pennywise said. Archie cooed after hearing his dad’s voice. “Dada?” Archie was confused, how did daddy get into that little talkie thingy? “Where’s Papawise?” Pennywise asked. Then he heard the background noise, “Archie, hand over the phone! DON’T LOOK AT ME!!!” Papawise shouted from the background. Pennywise was shocked to hear him shout at a baby. “Papawise, you better not yell at my boy, he’s only a baby!” Pennywise warned. “You don’t know half of it, son...” Papawise said. “I’m calling to see how he’s been doing; to what am I hearing, it sounds like you’ve got everything under control...” Pennywise said sarcastically. “Yeah yeah whatever... When does Archie have his nap?” Papawise asked. “We gave you a list... Read it and find out!” Pennywise advised. Then he heard Aquarius calling out to Pennywise. “Just read the care instructions carefully; because if anything happens to my son I’ll tare your head off!” Pennywise threatened before he hung up the cell.

After Pennywise returned the cellphone and the wagon was cleaned, Aquarius decided to gather up some food for dinner in the woods. “Feel free to relax while I go out to gather some food.” Aquarius offered. “Actually, I kind of want to see how you gather food; I’m actually curious.” Pennywise rushed over towards his wife. “Besides... I never want you out of my sight.” Pennywise added with a wink. Star blushed and took Penny’s hand to show him around the woods while looking for food.

***

The first thing that came to mind are fiddleheads, she remembered an old hermit-friend of hers that planted fiddleheads in her day before she perished, so Aquarius now owns the fiddlehead field. “See the curved green sprouts? they’re called fiddleheads. They’re really good and good for you.” Aquarius explained. Pennywise snorted by the name of the plants. “I’ll show you how to pick the good ones...” Aquarius showed Pennywise the ‘crowns’, they’re for holding the fiddleheads together while the others still needed more time to grow. “We can only take half the sprouts, so they can still continue growing each time. I’ll show you how to pick them properly.” Aquarius demonstrated on how to pick the fiddleheads; she carefully snapped one stem from two inches from the curved top and put the fiddleheads in the plastic bag for later. “Are you ready to try?” Aquarius asked with a smile. Pennywise crouched down and followed her instructions carefully. It took some crouching and lifting the legs, but they managed to get the amount of fiddleheads they needed.

The next thing on the menu are Wild Carrots, which are very hard to find the edible ones and not mistake them with other plants. “Wild Carrots in the woods are known as Queen Anne, but they look a lot like the other plants that are not safe to eat, such as Hemlock... So to make it safer for the both of us, we’ll do it together.” Aquarius explained.

She then picked one of the plants that are wild carrots; she showed Pennywise and explained to him what the flowers should look like and how he can tell Queen And Hemlock apart. “Why not just check their anatomy charts?” Pennywise joked. Aquarius laughed at Pennywise’s dirty joke that she gave him a gentle punch. 

Pennywise finds this survival lessons quite fascinating, yet nervous at the same time. He wondered if Star have ever fell into the wrong plants and nearly cause her life. “An old friend of mine was a hermit; she taught me everything I need to know about surviving in the woods. She taught me how to pick wild carrots and know which are safe. Thank heavens I have met her, or I would have starved to death.” Aquarius explained while she observed the plant carefully. Pennywise has so many questions to ask Aquarius, but since Aquarius has to concentrate on picking the right plants, he has to wait until later.

There are so many kinds of nature’s food that he didn’t know were edible; they’ve gathered bulrush roots and chestnuts. It was exhausting, ‘how does Aquarius do it all her life?’, “I don’t know how you could possibly gather everything for a meal everyday.” Pennywise observes. “Not everyday, just every other day when I needed to gather more food. If not, I try to make money by preforming for people by singing, so I can go by groceries.” Aquarius explained. Pennywise couldn’t help by smile fondly, he felt like that she’s been working too hard for him; both here and at home. Pennywise helped her up as she was feeling stiff. “Let me carry the bag of food for you and we can both rest.” Pennywise offered and suggested. “I guess we can have a rest before we go fishing.” Aquarius agreed. Pennywise raised his eyebrow, they didn’t pack any fishing gear, how can they catch fish without them?

***

While Aquarius gets herself ready in the wagon, Pennywise was just chilling sitting next to Laverne. “So you’ve been Aquarius’s pet for a long time, haven’t you? always keep each other company.” Pennywise said as he gently pets Laverne. Laverne wasn’t always connected to anybody but Aquarius, but she has sensed that something about Pennywise made him somehow... not so human. “Laverne seems to really be a fond of you...” Pennywise looked back seeing Aquarius in her Midnight-Blue Bikini. “...Laverne wasn’t always a people cat since I’ve seen her with other humans...” Aquarius added. Pennywise didn’t exactly pay attention to what she’s saying for the obvious reason. “Penny? My face is up here clown!” Aquarius smirked. Pennywise shook his head quickly to get a hold of himself. “Uh right... sorry love... It’s just that... I’ve never seen you in a bikini before... Forgive me for being observant, but you really lost a lot of that baby weight; you look like a teenager before pregnancy.” Pennywise said in shock. Aquarius knew that Pennywise was only trying to make a compliment, so she decided to accept it. If he said that to anybody else, he’d get b***h-slapped.

Aquarius was on her way to the waterfall to go fishing, with Pennywise coming along to watch... only... he wasn’t watching her fishing... but something that really catches his eyes. “Pennywise, quit starring at my tattoo! (located on her lower back)” Aquarius snapped before she got into the water. Pennywise only smirked while leaning against the tree watching Aquarius fish. 

It’s hard for Aquarius to fish with Pennywise lusting, so she decided to make a plan, but she had to wait until she caught a fish. When Aquarius saw the fish, she grew her vicious wildcat paw with claws and waited for it to get to the spot. Then she swiped the fish and let it fly towards Pennywise, “HEADS UP” Aquarius called out. Pennywise looked and didn’t notice the fish flying at him and hit his face; he tried to catch it, but then it somehow fell into his pants. “That’s for starring at my non-face flesh!” Aquarius laughed. But her laughing ended when she saw him tumbled into the thorn bushes. “OW” Pennywise yelled out. Aquarius rushed out of the water and helped Pennywise out of the thorn bush. “Penny I’m so sorry, I did not attend to make you fall into the thorn bush.” Aquarius said as she removed his outfit that is covered in thorns. “You go back to the wagon and I’ll wash your clothes... And the fish.” Aquarius offered with a smirk after pulling out the fish.

***

While Pennywise’s clothes are being dried up by the fire, Aquarius was removing the thorns from his butt and put on some ointment to relieve the sting. “There, that’s the last of it... Feeling any better?” Aquarius asked while rubbing it to sooth his pain. “Well... it hurts a little still, but maybe I’ll feel a lot better once you kiss it better...” Pennywise chuckled. “Get off!” Aquarius snorted before she shoved him off her lap. They both have a good laugh for awhile, until they heard the cauldron bobbing as the water is boiling. “Sounds to me that our dinner is ready, I’ll get our bowls, be right back love.” Aquarius said as she went into the wagon to fetch the bowls and soup spoons. 

After Aquarius grabbed the bowls, she went over to the cauldron and carefully scooped up the ‘natures gumbo’ into their bowls, including Laverne. Before she serves the bowl to Laverne she pours some cool water so she wouldn’t burn her tongue. “I hope it’s okay... It may not be children’s flesh... but--” Pennywise raised his hand to quiet her as he was drinking and eating out of the bowl. “No need to make excuses... I think it’s fantastic... Because you made it for me... Anything you make really makes me feel full... from my heart, my stomach and my--” Aquarius covered his mouth as he was about to blurt out the last sentence. “Don’t make me lose my appetite love.” Aquarius smirked as she was eating her dinner.

***

After dinner and cleaning up, Aquarius answered all of Pennywise’s questions about her life before and after she became a demon clown. The story was long and the skies are getting darker, however, Aquarius is worth listening to. He does feel grief for her to what she has been through; like her lack of rents at her cousin’s place, her first kills, and learning how to survive in the woods alone. “...If it wasn’t for my dear hermit friend, I would never have survived from starvation or/and food poisoning... I missed her, but she lived a long good life.” Aquarius ended. 

Pennywise was fascinated by her story, he’s glad that he got to know more about Aquarius’s life. He knew that he can trust her when his life depends on it. “It is getting rather late, I think I’ll go hit the sacks, if you don’t mind.” Pennywise said. “That’s fine, I’ll just hang the grub further into the woods; we don’t want any animals like bears to come to our nesting grounds to steal our food.” Aquarius replied while she goes out to hang the food.

***

While Aquarius was out, Pennywise called home to see if his son is alright. But there is no answer, either that both Papawise and Archie are asleep or that they went out late; Pennywise hoped that everything was alright. A few minutes later, Aquarius came back feeling exhausted, so she stripped out of her jumpsuit and put on her nightgown; to prevent Pennywise watching her nude, she removed her bra under her nightgown. “You’re acting like we’re not a married couple, yet you still feel self-cautious.” Pennywise smirked. “I just didn’t want to turn you on since I’m very sore and tired from all the forest work...” Aquarius said as she climbs into bed with Pennywise. “Of course... we’re on vacation soo...” Pennywise made a devilish grin and right away got on top of her.

After a hot throes of activity, they fell right to sleep. That is until after a few hours, Pennywise and Aquarius were awakened by Laverne’s cries. “Something’s wrong with Laverne Penny, I’m going to check out to see what’s going on.” Aquarius said as she put on her robe and grabbed an oil lamp. When Aquarius looked under the wagon, she nearly dropped her oil lamp by something quite shocking. It turns out that Laverne wasn’t fat because she ate a lot...

Laverne just gave birth to kittens. “Aquarius... Anything okay?” Pennywise asked. “Honey, come here... You’ve got to see this.” Aquarius said in a smile. Pennywise rushed out and noticed Laverne with her little fur-balls. “She was pregnant the whole time?” Pennywise asked with a smile. Then he spoke to Laverne. “So you’ve been busy lately, haven’t you?” Pennywise asked the cat while petting her head. Then he turned towards Aquarius, “Star, we can’t leave these kittens out there, it’s too cold and some wild animals might come and eat them.” Pennywise explained. Aquarius was worried. “I don’t know how; the mother cat might get angry and possibly eat one of her own children if our scent affects the kittens to their mother’s liking.” Aquarius replied. “I know how to communicate with animals; you get the cat basket and clean gloves, I’ll take care of Laverne and her kittens.” Pennywise instructed.

After Aquarius came out with the basket and gloves, Pennywise got Laverne to understand what it was that they needed to do for her and her babies. “Okay... Lets get the kittens into their basket.” Pennywise puts on his gloves and took one of the kittens out from under the wagon, they were meowing so cutely. “Hi little guy...” Aquarius said in a low tone to one of the kittens that she picked up. Pennywise picked up the last kitten which is a ginger kitten, the only one that turned out different from its siblings. “You look like a Brutney if I own you...” Pennywise said to the little ginger kitten. “Lets get them inside the wagon.” Pennywise said to Aquarius.

Thankfully, Laverne still loved her kittens and did not want to eat one of them. Then they all went to sleep. “Penny... I’m so glad you’re here with me, if I’ve never known you, I would not know what to do with Laverne and her kittens.” Aquarius said as she kissed her husband passionately. “Well, you’re pretty smart when it comes to survival.” Pennywise replied. “What are we going to do with the kittens?” Pennywise asked. “I think Laverne can take good care of her kittens, and just come every Saturday to check on her and the kittens, until they’re eight weeks old, I’ll see if we can find them a home.” Aquarius thought. “Cassandra might be able to find some people that might like a kitten.” Aquarius added. “As much of a foolish human she is... that’s clearly the best plan... I’m glad you didn’t thought of taking them to the kitty kennel.” Pennywise responded with a yawn. “Never in my life... they deserve a loving home... Like me when you took me in.” Aquarius replied in a soft tone. Pennywise didn’t respond, he went right to sleep, so Aquarius decided to get some sleep too. 

For a vacation away from their son, they have to deal with four more babies that were born under the wagon... What more could they ever ask for? 

[smallmediumproblems]

It was surprisingly easy to find a pet shop in the Arcade. The difficult part was finding the one they were looking for. Almost as soon as they’d left Spider Empire, they turned a corner to find a neat looking storefront with a sign that read Petland over the door. Nick headed straight for the entrance, but stopped when he heard Jon make an uncertain noise behind him.

“Not that one,” said Jon.

“Is it dangerous?” Nick asked. He took a preemptive step back from the store.

“Well, since none of you are allergic to cats, not especially,” said Jon, “But it won't have what you need.”

“Of course not,” Nick sighed. “Alright. Lead the way.”

They continued to wind through the halls of the Arcade apparently at random. Jon paused every now and then to get his bearings as the layout of the place changed, once or twice turning around completely with a frustrated little scowl. The longer they walked, the more pet stores they passed. Fish ‘n More had a tank that spanned the front of the store, and which, upon closer inspection, seemed to make up the entire interior as well. Static Man insisted that they stop at Too Many Legs to admire several six-legged golden retriever puppies pawing at the window. There was one store that had a gaudy assortment of crystals, medieval weapons, and gold coins littering the front display, under a sign that read DRAGONS! in a friendly cartoon font. To everyone’s dismay, it was closed.

“Should we be worried about this?” prompted Morgan as they passed a store labeled One Big Snake. “Maybe it’s trying to throw us off.”

“No, this is good,” Nick said. “I think it’s more like targeted advertising. We’ve already made a couple purchases, so the Arcade knows we’re not here to cause trouble. If it’s overheard what we’re looking for, it could be trying to help.”

“Boy, it sure is important that we get a frappucino for this ritual, huh Nicholas?” Static Man added loudly. A couple of turns later, a cozy-looking Starbucks appeared on their right.

“Considering the fact that it moved a whole city block to get here, I’d say that’s a pretty sound theory,” said Jon. “Mind you, that added a substantial detour to our walk.”

“Relaaax, drinks on me,” said Static Man, leading them inside.

“Do I want to know where you got money from?” Nick asked doubtfully. “Or where you’re keeping it?”

“It’s cool, Starbucks usually takes teeth,” said Static Man. “So, y’know. Ka-ching! Pop ‘em right out like a pez dispenser.” To demonstrate, he rummaged around in his face and pulled out a tooth with a small click. He held it out to Jon, who wished for the second time in his life that his career involved fewer people trying to hand him teeth.

Nick cornered Jon as they were waiting for their coffees. “Round two?” he suggested. Jon could taste the start of his statement already, a treacherous door and a maddening landscape behind it.

“You sound like you’re enjoying these as much as I am,” said Jon, settling in at one of the rickety tables.

Nick gave a short laugh as he sat across from him, then another more uncomfortable one as he mulled this over. “It’s weird, it almost feels familiar. You… feel familiar. Is that normal?”

“It’s certainly not good,” said Jon. “I don’t think it’s me so much as the Eye. You’ve probably stumbled across it before. I’m genuinely surprised you haven’t been caught up in one of the Fears by now. Mine in particular would be too easy for you to fall into, I think.”

Jon was struck with the sharp, warm sensation of being realized. He could feel Nick starting to put together that his rumpled blazer and secondhand mug weren’t just an affectation to make his supernatural nature seem human. That, if anything, the opposite was closer to the truth. Nick wanted to ask him how it had happened; whether it had crept up on him slowly, or if it was something he’d done to himself. Jon didn’t quite know how to explain that it had been both.

“So there’s more of these things,” Nick asked instead.

“Each one more terrible than the last,” said Jon. “That place belonged to one of them. I told you, spiders are a problem where I’m from.”

“And they’re all, what, fighting each other? Working together?” Nick pressed.

Jon laughed mirthlessly. “Depends on the person. Some of us are almost palatable. Others will tear your skin off just to say hello.”

Nick went very still for a moment. He seemed to come to some conclusion as to which kind Jon was. Jon was very aware of his eyes shifting across his scars. “Do you need help?” Nick asked gently.

“Probably.” Jon followed the statement with a very tired smile. “I can’t have it too bad if I’ve survived this long.”

“I mean it,” said Nick, “I don’t know if you’re trapped, or being blackmailed, or what, but whatever it is, I’m sure we can help. That’s kind of what we do.”

Jon didn’t need to look up at Morgan and Static Man to know what he was being offered. He wondered how many other people Nick had spirited away like this, with promises of freedom or adventure or just plain companionship. It didn’t take much effort for him to picture a scenario where he would have said yes. It wasn’t even too different from his current one.

“Thank you,” he said. “Really, I- You have no idea how many of my problems that would solve. But I have people I need to get back to. There’s someone I’d very much like to see again.”

Nick nodded. “I understand. Still, we’ve got two more stops- offer’s on the table if you change your mind.”

The Arcade had shifted again by the time they left, and Jon led them back in the direction they came from. To no one’s surprise, the shops had all changed as well, though they maintained the same ratio of pet stores.

“If this place is so intent on bringing you what you want,” said Jon, sloshing his macchiato around the flower mug. “That does raise the question of why you actually need me. I’m sure it would figure out where you need to go eventually.”

“Intent is what I’m worried about,” said Nick. “We haven’t had the best track record with sentient landscapes. And ‘eventually’ could take years. We did our research. Plenty of people come to shop in the Arcade. Not a lot of them get back out.”

“After we heard that this place would have what we needed, the first thing we did was try and figure out why so many people went missing,” Morgan chimed in. “I thought people were dying of starvation, but there’s no shortage of resources. None of the survivors talked about roving monsters, or rules you have to stick to to avoid being punished. By all accounts, it’s just an infinite maze of stores.”

“Maze being the operative word,” Jon realized aloud.

“It’s dead simple, when you think about it,” Morgan continued after a sip of her coffee. “It’ll bring you anything you could ask for in a shopping mall, except an exit.”

Jon stopped to concentrate on the layout in a moment of panic. “But it does have an exit. I know where it is.”

“And that’s why you’re rolling with the cool kids,” said Static Man, shooting Jon a finger-gun with his free, un-frappuccino’d hand. “The shops will come to us. We just need you to get us out of here when it’s time to leave. Plus, we can give you a makeover on the way out, right Nick?”

“That’s between you two,” said Nick. “Assuming we can find a JC Penny that accepts teeth. How close are we to this place?”

Jon turned to face the other side of the Arcade hall. “Here, actually,” he said. Across from them was a small storefront done up in pastel, with a display painted onto the front window that read Advanced Pets. His head buzzed with little details about the interior, a wash of comfortingly mundane facts. "It looks quite safe."

“Sick. Hey, you think there’s a Beginner’s Pets?” Static Man asked no one in particular as they crossed the hall. “Or maybe Simple Pets.”

“Band name,” Nick said immediately.

“Band na- dammit!” Morgan swore, half a second too late. Nick laughed, pulling out a cheap notebook and adding the phrase “Simple Pets” to a column under his name. There were matching columns for both Morgan and Static Man. Static Man’s was as long as the other two combined. Jon was struck with an image of Tim, Martin, and Sasha gathered in the Archive breakroom, joking about some piece of office drama over lunch. The sound of Sasha kicking her legs off the countertop she was perched on. Tim sitting backwards in a chair, tipping forward so it balanced on two legs, then back down to safety. Martin’s hands gesturing wildly, careless and mesmerizing.

“Everything alright?”

Jon blinked the memory away. Morgan and Static Man had already gone inside, and Nick was waiting for him in the doorway.

“It’s fine,” said Jon.

It was as fine as it was ever going to be.

The interior of the shop was an orderly mosaic of mint green and orange, soothing after the Arcade’s dim lighting. It was laid out more like a book store than a pet shop, with little alcoves lining the room and a few islands down the center aisle with clear plastic walls and no lids. The instrumental break of a motown song played distantly over the speakers. Most of the pets were recognizable; Morgan was hunched in front of a tank full of axolotls, watching them follow her finger as she traced it across the glass. The closest center island was a roomy enclosure of rabbits. Jon could make out guinea pigs and leopard geckos in the islands further back. As he drifted towards a stack of cat cages, he picked out a few specimens that were less familiar. The next alcove over had terrariums full of something that looked like a turtle with incredibly furry limbs. A section of the store towards the back was blocked off with thick velvet curtains, and had a standing sign in front that read Quiet area! Please do not disturb the ghosts. The music congealed into Patti LaBelle singing Danny Boy.

“You folks let me know if you want me to introduce you to anyone,” Jon heard from the middle of the store. He leaned around a metal rack of squeaky toys to see a late middle-aged woman wearing a pair of chunky plastic earrings and a romper that looked like it had been made from a bowling alley carpet. She was lounging against the register countertop, staring openly at Static Man. When he looked up at the sound of her voice, she gave him a coy smirk and pretended to be preoccupied with a ferret that was draped over her shoulders. This seemed to catch him off guard, but he quickly recovered, striking what Jon could only assume was supposed to be a casual pose next to an iguana enclosure. Jon shuddered.

“We’re looking to buy a pet rock,” said Nick.

The shopkeeper glanced between the four of them. When she looked at Jon, he noticed that her name was Nellie. “You all gonna share just the one?” she asked, the hint of a smile lingering in her voice.

“We’re not what you’d call a conventional household,” Nick replied.

Nellie bounced up from the countertop with a laugh. "Thank goodness! Those things give me the heebie-jeebies. What kind of rock are you interested in?”

“What kinds do you have?” Nick asked hesitantly. It seemed like the appropriate thing to say. Nellie led the party to an alcove lined with shelves, each one bearing at least a dozen rocks in all different shapes, sizes, treatments, and colorations. Most of them were wonky river rocks in varying shades of black and gray. A few towards the back of the shelves were glowing faintly. Some seemed quite valuable, including part of an amethyst geode and something that Jon identified as an absolutely massive uncut diamond. There was a little standing desk off to one side littered with googly eyes and Sharpie markers.

“Take a look around, they’re not shy,” said Nellie.

Nick looked between her and the rocks, and plucked a specimen from the nearest shelf. It was large and gray, with pockmarks that made it look volcanic. “I guess, this one?” he said.

“Hmmmm,” said Nellie. She scratched under the ferret’s chin and squinted at Nick suspiciously. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Ok,” said Nick, forcing a patient tone, “Which one would you suggest?”

Nellie shrugged. “It’s not my rock. But I do know a bad match when I see one. Pick one that speaks to you. These fellas are looking for a forever home, just like everyone in the store.” At this, she looked pointedly at Static Man, batting her eyelashes. Static Man did something horrifying with the multitudes of teeth that protruded from his face like shrapnel. Nellie smiled back.

“Right. Little help, guys?” Nick asked, turning to the others.

Jon tilted his head slightly at Nellie with a small, concerned frown. “Do you want me to…?”

Nick looked panicked. “Help me pick one out,” he clarified quickly. “Please.” The four of them went to work inspecting the rocks and presenting them to Nellie, progressively less and less sure of what they were looking for as each offering was dismissed. More accurately, three of them went through this process while Static Man flirted with her. Jon eventually found himself turning the same rock over and over in his hands, listening in idly on their conversation.

“You didn’t have anywhere to be today, right?” Morgan commented, reaching across him for a small black rock that was keening pleasantly.

“That’s a good question,” said Jon, half to himself. His watch - which he’d neglected to take off while he was dozing in the breakroom - read 5:17. Still a couple hours before anyone might notice he was gone. “Does time work the same way, here?”

Morgan made an unworried noise. “Who knows. That’s one hazard we don’t usually worry too much about. One of the perks of not having someplace to get back to.”

“Not… Not at all?” said Jon, “You just do this all the time?”

“Pretty much,” said Morgan. “We’re not homeless, we do crash on Nick’s couch whenever we need a day off. But mostly, yeah, we just do stuff like this.”

“That sounds exhausting,” Jon marveled.

“It can be,” said Morgan. “Better than being trapped in one place.”

Jon wasn’t sure what kind of expression his reaction had translated to, but whatever it was drew a long, sympathetic look from Morgan. “Mmmh,” she hummed gently. She set her rock down and leaned on a shelf. “You too?”

Jon paused. He nodded.

“You mentioned an archive,” said Morgan, “Is it just you, back home?”

“No,” said Jon, “No, I’ve got… well, not friends, exactly. I know, that sounds bad, it’s… Well, it kind of is. The Archive, not the people. They’re the only thing worth staying for.”

“Always are,” said Morgan.

“You were all alone, weren’t you?” Jon asked. The parts of his situation that Morgan found familiar were painting a clear, bleak picture of what she’d escaped to be here. The dark places in here eyes were filled with more long, quiet nights than she cared to count.

Morgan studied him with the same serious appraisal she’d been giving the rocks. “Watch out for that. I hope you find your way out. But until you do? Don’t be alone.”

They both turned their attention to the other side of the alcove, where Static Man had dragged Nick in as a reluctant wingman. Nick was desperately trying to focus on the rocks while still making the appropriate comments on whatever Static Man was saying.

“Even if you end up stuck with dorks like these,” Morgan said fondly.

She turned back to the shelves as Static Man continued recounting the time he and Nick had fought a tribe of cyborg motorcycle centaurs.

“And then I was like, ‘Hands off my friend, you gas-guzzling son of a bitch!’” he exclaimed, and grabbed Nick’s shoulder for emphasis.

“That still doesn’t make sense,” Nick complained, holding a rock with a vein of crystal through it up to the light. “They didn’t even use gas, they had biofuel. It’s the whole reason we were there, remember? Those bugs were eating all their crops.”

“It was a drought,” Jon corrected him. Nick and Static Man looked over in surprise. “The bugs were just there looking for water. The sonic generator you used to drive them away shook loose an underground spring that saved the plants. Sort of an adjacent solution, I suppose.”

Jon tensed, waiting for the inevitable backlash. Instead, Nick rounded on Static Man with a triumphant fist upheld. “I knew it!” he crowed, looking between him and Morgan. "And you were worried it would cause structural damage!"

"Uhh because it did?" she said, "That's one step away from a sinkhole, in my limited knowledge of dirt things."

"Hey, Archivist? New rule," Static Man grumbled, "You only get to use your psychic powers to help me win arguments, got it?"

 "I'll take that under advisement," said Jon, offering him an awkward smile. He tapped on the rock he was holding, and held it out to Nellie. “How’s this one?”

“Ohh, look at that,” she cooed. “It likes you!”

Jon stared down at the rock. It was not pretty, an unremarkable brown with a large black spot on one corner. The surface was smooth but not glossy, as if from wear rather than polish. It had an oddly comforting weight to it. Somehow it felt solid and dependable in a way that nothing else in the Arcade had. He could feel his own warmth reflected back towards him from how long he’d been holding it, magnified and radiating up his arm. My Girl by the Temptations had started playing over the store speakers.

“It does,” Jon said incredulously. “I don’t- how? Why?”

“How much is it?” asked Morgan.

“For him?” said Nellie. She studied Jon, eyes flicking between him and the rock. “I’d settle for one of those scars.”

Jon looked up. “Excuse me?”

Nellie traced a little crescent on her cheek where Jon had a scar from Jane Prentiss’ attack on the Institute. The ferret crawled up to nuzzle her fingers as she did so. “They’ve got a real arte povera vibe,” she explained, “I know a fella on the collector’s circuit who’d trade something good for one like that.”

“Riiiight,” said Jon, more a signal of acknowledgement than understanding. “If we’re ignoring the obvious questions as usual, am I allowed to haggle? There’s one on my leg that I’d like to be rid of.”

With an appraising sort of hum, Nellie leaned down and inspected the leg in question from a respectful distance. Jon clutched his rock a little closer.

“What’s wrong with that one?” asked Static Man, “Like, as opposed to the ones all over your face. And your hand. Man, you have a lot of scars, how did I not notice that before?”

“It’s a reminder,” explained Jon. “I suppose they all are, but this one’s different. It... hurts differently.”

“I gotta stop asking you questions, because every time you answer one I have, like, five million more,” said Static Man, a distinct tone of admiration in his voice.

“Nice to see that I’m not the only one,” Jon said dryly.

Nellie straightened to face Jon again. “I’m sorry, but I can’t budge on the price,” she said. “That one’s in deep. Now, the ones up top, you’ve got a few to spare.”

“Worth a shot,” said Jon, shrugging. “I’ll take it.”

He resisted the urge to squirm away as Nellie tugged down the neck of his shirt, revealing a scar just under his collarbone. She scrubbed at the edges of it gently until a sliver curled up into itself, then took the edge between two fingers and pulled. It came away to reveal smooth, unblemished skin underneath, as if it had never been there. Jon rubbed the spot with his free hand. He’d expected it to hurt. It just felt like peeling off an old band-aid.

“Thank you for that,” he said.

“My pleasure, dear,” Nellie said with a smile. She rolled up her sleeve around the ferret and carefully placed the scar on her shoulder, smoothing it down until it stuck in place.

“It looks good on you,” Morgan commented.

“Yeah, you look like a badass,” said Static Man appreciatively.

Nellie laughed. “What sweet young people you are! Are you sure there’s nothing else I can help you with before you go?”

“Actually,” said Nick, “There was one other thing. I was hoping to buy some pet food. We need birdseed and something for rats, mice maybe.”

Nellie gave him a knowing look. “The tailors. I thought it might be that one. You’ll want some fish food as well, everyone forgets to feed the fish. Tell you what, mister magic man. I’ll give it to you for free on the condition that you make sure that rock has a home after you’ve used it.”

“You’re familiar with the ritual, then,” said Nick. “You understand what I have to do to it?”

“It’ll survive,” said Nellie, waving her hand dismissively. “It’s a rock, not a champagne glass. I’ve just seen too many of the poor things thrown in the gutter after some hooligan has their way with them.”

Nick nodded. “I don’t see that being a problem. The Archivist seems pretty attached already.”

“Its name is Shirley,” Jon interjected. He was now clutching his rock in both hands and brushing his thumb absently back and forth over its spot. “And I’ll take good care of it.”

[c0wgurlz]

Good Wood // E.D.

Hey guys! So this fic is a lil something special because I didn’t write it, my roommate did! Alicia @un--beau--jour wanted to try her hand at fanfiction and asked that I post it here for all of ya’ll to read. I am very proud of my roommate wife and hope you love her as much as I do. Enjoy <3

You slump into your seat, exhausted from the strenuous walk to your last class of the day. Sighing, you greet your classmates with brief smiles and take out your sketchpad from your bag. This is 3D art. You initially thought you’d be making intricate sculptures and expressing yourself through your masterpieces. But alas, this three-hour class consisted more of sitting through bland powerpoint presentations about shapeless, abstract art than creating anything of value.

In truth, it wasn’t all that terrible. There was one thing you did look forward to.

You hear a weak ‘hello’ from the doorway. Slyly, you shift your gaze from your sketchpad to observe the new arrival.  

Ethan walks in shyly, avoiding eye contact and sitting on top of a clay-stained desk at the front of the room. He sported a bit of scruff, dark hair and a never-ending supply of crisp black t-shirts. His long legs stretched in front of him as he took a somewhat awkward position on the desk. He crossed his arms and began announcing the class’s next project.

This was your professor.

He was on the cusp of 30, but didn’t look a second over 22. This was his first year teaching, and it was fairly obvious. Despite his shy demeanor, you sensed that he had another side to him. Perhaps a more assertive side, but for now he was playing it safe.

“For your next assignment, you guys will be working with wood”

This statement elicits an immature chuckle from yourself and your classmates. Ethan goes on.

“Today, I’ll be demonstrating some of the equipment available for the project in the woodshop.”

He motions behind him. Everyone begins to gather as he walks into the wood studio. I’d always been curious about the room’s extension and the strange machines within it. The shop smells of wood (no shit) and oil. Ethan rolls up his sleeves and runs his hand through his short hair. He slips on a pair of protective goggles and walks over to the first machine.

“Alright guys, this is the wood saw. You need to be very careful with all the machines in here, especially this one.”

Ethan painfully guides us through every single apparatus in the large studio. We discuss our ideas for our sculptures, the possibilities available to us, and the techniques needed to reach our results. After 3 hours of this, I’d feel comfortable calling myself a pro.

I hang back a bit while everyone else is leaving, eager to ask Ethan to approve my idea. I describe it to him and show him several sketches in my pad. He doesn’t say much, but nods his head attentively as I go on.

“Yeah. I think thats a possibility.” He says, “You might need to stay a few hours more once we get into it. There might be a few extra steps, but I like what you’ve come up with Y/N”

He smirks. “Just don’t get too ambitious with it, you might just impress me”

I look up at him, a bit shocked by the sudden flattery.

“Oh okay.” I chuckle faintly. “Thanks, Mr. Dolan, see you Thursday then.”

I finally head out, maybe blushing because of his words or perhaps because his eyes did not leave my back as I walked through the door.

It’s Thursday and for once, I’ve been looking forward to coming to class. Everyone is buzzing with anticipation to try out all the intimidating machines for the first time. We venture into the wood shop, led by Ethan. The class picks out our protective gear. I get left with the large, science lab goggles. Very hot.

I begin working on my piece; shaving the wood pieces, struggling with the saw and getting covered in wood glue. Everyone has left by now. It’s just Ethan and I left in the large studio. When I get in a creative groove, I don’t want to stop. As I am maneuvering my piece through the wood saw, Ethan walks up from behind me.

“Looking good Y/N!” He says.

“Oh. My piece? Thanks! I’m kind of having trouble with the saw though, could you show me how to cut it this way?” I respond tentatively.

He nods his head and I angle my piece to show him my current technique.

“It’s just not cutting the way I want it to,” I say.

He nods again, and steps closer to me. Ethan reaches over to angle my piece, I feel his body heat radiating from behind me as his chest brushes my back very slightly.

“You want to move it here, so you can cut in a curve” He points.

My breath jumps as he turns on the switch to activate the saw. Then, I feel his hands guiding mine as he shows me the technique. His fingers are rough and dry. This isn’t surprising seeing that he spends a lot of time working with wood. I’ve seen him working the grain, I’ll admit that his artistry is something to behold.

The saw buzzes loudly, I can hear him mumble something under his breath, but the noise muffles his words. He turns the switch off and smiles at me.

“See? Now you can do it yourself.” He says.

I want to answer with a ‘thank you’ but he moves his hand to the small of my back. I lose my ability to utter anything comprehensible. I can still feel his warm breath on my neck, and think that if it were anybody else, I’d be seriously creeped out. I can’t deny that his closeness has gotten me a bit hot and bothered. But why hasn’t he moved?, I shout in my head. Slowly, I shift my gaze to his. What has felt like a minute only really lasted a couple seconds.

“Here” He finally speaks, “Let me show you something that will help you with your sculpture.”

Intrigued, I follow him into the large supply closet. Considering how much he seems changed when it’s just the two of us. His demeanor is more confident, less awkward and more playful. I don’t mind it.

He points to several bits, which I can use to shave the wood down and create flow, he explains. Interested, I step closer to the tall shelf and reach to the top to pick one that sticks out to me.

“Careful!” He says, “Some of them are pretty sharp, I wouldn’t want it to fall on you or anything” Ethan chuckles. “It wouldn’t be pretty.”

I smirk in agreement. I gingerly reach up to pluck it from off the shelf. Ethan comes over to me and goes on to explain what I can use it for. Without lifting the metal piece from my hand, he touches my fingers as he describes its use.

“I think this is a good fit”, he says.

I look up. It is in this moment that I realize that his face is a mere inch from mine. He looks up too. His eyes meet mine and my stomach flips. I feel a rush of tingles climb up my chest as he steps just a bit closer. Our noses touch and I can hear his breathing accelerate.

Suddenly, my lips meet his and he responds immediately. I drop the bit and it clatters to the ground with an awkward ‘clink’. Ethan takes this as a cue and wraps his hands around my waist, pulling me into the kiss. His lips feel as rough as his hands. Despite this, I deepen the embrace and fold my arms behind his neck. I slowly work my hand up to his nape and grab a gentle handful of his soft hair, pulling it slightly. This evokes a soft groan from him and his hand hold me even more firmly against him.

We pull away, both breathing hard.

“Oh”, I say. “I think I’ve been wanting to do that for a while”

“No shit Y/N, I have too” Ethan pauses.

“Yeah”, I chuckle. “Your flirting dropped some hints for me. It’s not like I couldn’t tell”

The sexual tension had been boiling between us for some time now. It was exhilarating to see it was reciprocated. I snake my hand up to his neck again, and pull him back to me.

“Shall we continue?” I question.

Ethan responds by kissing me hard and walking us to the nearest wall. He moves his hand from my waist to my ass, gently massaging my backside. His hands travel from my ass to under my thighs, grabbing my leg and lifting it up as we continue our embrace. I could feel him getting harder as we went on with our session, I teasingly grind my hips against his, eager to feel him fully.

“Shiit” I hear him whisper under his breath.

I slip my hands under his shirt, aching to touch his warm skin. He reciprocates by cupping my breast with his free hand, still holding my thigh up against his hip. I continue, gliding my fingers down his spine only to feel him shiver under me.

He presses me harder into the wall, which elicits a soft ‘oof’ from me. Ethan moves his lips from my mouth to my neck, nuzzling into the crook of it and gingerly biting the skin. I can still feel his hardening cock under his pants, and decide it’s time to do something about it. My hand travels downwards, grabbing him with purpose. He groans deeply, guiding his hips into my hand as I rub him. He continues to kiss my neck as I unbutton his pants at an agonizingly slow pace.

“Mm, why are you torturing me Y/N?” he moans into my ear.

“It’s more fun that way”, I tease.

Once I have him undone, I slide them down mid-thigh. I take a moment to admire his surprisingly toned legs, which had been hiding under his modest clothing for too long. His erection looks nearly painful as I pull down his boxers, a droplet of precum sliding down the length of it. I lick the tip of him, running circles around the head with my tongue. Ethan grabs my hair and pushes me into him. I look up at him. His eyes are closed and his lips parted. I stand back against the wall to face him.

“You’re not gonna keep going?”, he inquires.

“I think you’re far too eager to even bother”, I answer.

“Huh. For one of my students you’re not very respectful, are you? I am your professor after all.”

“Don’t remind me” I give him a coy smile, “But I don’t think you care much about that right now.”

He doesn’t disagree. I begin to stroke him, which certainly prevents further questioning. Ethan leans up to my ear and whispers in a low voice, “You’re not wrong. I want you now, and don’t make me beg for it Y/N”. I pull him in with an answer, “I don’t intend to, Mr. Dolan”. I take his hand and guide it down to my aching pussy. My wetness greets him and he groans in approval, “I think you’re ready for me too”, he moans. A rough finger circles my clit and I twitch with bliss. He glides a finger inside me, and then two, pumping them slowly at a delicious rhythm.

Ethan places one hand on the wall behind me and lifts my leg up again. Without much warning he pushes into me gently at first, and then with more intent. His cock throbs as he fills me. I feel him accelerate, moaning consistently as he thrusts. I run my hands up and down his back, scratching the skin with my nails. I can sense him panting into my neck, his hot breath reminding me of earlier. Ethan somehow presses me harder into the wall, uttering a “Fuck” under his breath. A warm, tingling sensation climbs from my stomach into my chest, I know I’m becoming undone. I start rubbing my clit, eagerly awaiting release. Ethan grabs my hand and throws it against the wall.

“Let me.” he says, as he replaces my hand with his.

His strength keeps me firmly hoisted up as he continues to pump in and out of me.

“I’m getting close” he mutters, his voice deep and raspy.

“Me too”, I manage to utter back.

Ethan moans loudly, “Shiit I’m gonna cum”. He presses his strong fingers into my thigh, curls the other hand into the wall and finishes inside me. It doesn’t take long for me to join him. I climax hard while digging my nails into his back. I manage a weak, high-pitched ‘fuck’ as I ride my high out.

He pulls out of me, still panting and visibly sweating.

“You killed my back Y/N” he says, and lifts his shirt and turns his back to me to show me the marks. Short, but deep scratches line his spine.

“Damn. I’m sorry! I got into it.” I respond.

He shakes his head and laughs, “Yeah, but it was worth it”.

I pull my panties back up and shift my skirt, agreeing with him in the process. Ethan proceeds to dress himself too and brushes his hair out of his face. He offers me a kiss and tells me that he could be up for this again.

“I wouldn’t mind” I blush, “But you cannot tell anybody about this okay?”

“I had no intention to, you know I could lose my job over this.” He answers.

“True, but it certainly was nice”

“Yeah, I have to say you did impress me after all” He laughs.

Very clever, I think. I could get used to extra wood shop hours.

[thankyoumskobayashi]

The symbolism of changing clothes: Hualian and color schematics. (Spoilers up to Tian Guan Ci Fu Chapter 109).

In the most recent chapter, Xie Lian, Hua Cheng, Wind Master, and Earth Master all go to a small town where their flamboyant attire stands out. Everyone changes except for Xie Lian, who dresses casually because he has spent most of his immortal life wandering the mortal realms and therefore he is better equipped to handle them. During the protagonist's backstory, author Mo Xiang Tong Xiu states that Xie Lian has always like to wear white clothes, and reminds the reader of this fact throughout the previous two cases Xie Lian handles. In this case, Xie Lian's choice of clothing remains pretty static.

He had gotten wiser throughout the years, and grown to see (perhaps) the folly of his younger ways. He had grown resigned to misfortune to the point that he scared away Venerable demons because they couldn't feed off of his broken dreams. This is some serious depression right here. Even though his consistent choice of clothing paralleled his consistent personality traits, Xie Lian's clothing choice is perhaps symbolic of more meanings.

Taoism is the cultural paradigm pervading Mo Xiang Tong Xiu's cultivation novels (or probably cultivation novels in general, but I have only read hers thus far), and some of the things it emcompasses are the concepts of yin and yang energy. White, or Xie Lian's chosen color of dress, represents the masculine yin energy. It is, as Mo Xiang Tong Xiu states many times in Mo Dao Zu Shi, the energy of life, an active energy, and a force for good. This "force for good" was shown as Xie Lian modeled the perfect cultivation student as a Crown Prince, and it became his driving motivation when he reneged against the divine rules of interfering with mortal matters.

This active energy means he is by nature a proactive person. He created a sign saying "renovation needed" by his latest tiny temple, he didn't wait for reinforcements when he learned his idiot cousin was kidnapped by the rebels but left to rescue him anyways, he volunteered to help the noble family when they threw out a doctor to gain a chance at feeding the two kids. From the time he was mortal until Xie Lian's present day, he has seen a need and strived to meet it. Giving rain, saving the child Hong, helping the merchants in their caravan. He has a desire to provide for and protect others -whether from royal duty to the people or compassion matters not- which has become innate over 800 years. It's instinctive. He has become the model of yin energy personified, although his portrayal of leadership is not what one might expect.

The "leaders" one could think of are loud, commanding, in control of everyone and everything. However, that level of micromanaging may produce hostility, helplessness, and resentment among the subordinates. Xie Lian steps in as a leader only when no one else knows how to or even wants to handle it. His main goal is calming people during times of paranormal crisis, like his many attempted directions to the mob on the mountain, or the directions to the soldiers not to jump into the pit. He also wants to keep the others safe, which lends itself to his self-sacrificial tendencies. He understands that even his subordinates have a right to run away from the case, even if that strands him in a precarious position. He listens to their concerns and mediates their fights. Although this may seem like the caricature of the "weak" leader, Xie Lian's leadership methods show the people he works with that he is dedicated to providing their safety and peace.

Rather than proclaiming he will protect them, as he did when he was the Crown Prince of Xian Le, Xie Lian tells the merchants he will go with them and demonstrates through actions that he will protect them along the way. He used this method of showing before telling as he protected the child Hong (whom he'd first saved when Hong fell from the sky) from his evil cousin's murderous schemes. He ordered the carriage stopped, carefully picked up Hong, did some crowd control, then marched that kid right up to the palace healers. He showed Hong he was there to protect him, murmuring comforting things to him along the way.

That child, as you may suspect from Mo Xiang Tong Xiu's love for creating many identities for her characters, likely will turn out to be the devotee at the run-down Temple of the Flower Crown Prince, aka the Temple where Xie Lian first noticed and appreciated the white flower in his statue's hand. It was implied that Hong, touched by Prince Xie Lian's rescues of him, looked up to him even after Xie Lian ascended to godhood. Hong looked up to him enough to do something different than the rest of the followers: establish his own personal symbol for Xie Lian in the white flower, and actually listen to Xie Lian's instructions to his worshippers on how to worship him. Touched by these two things, Xie Lian protected Hong from the children bullying him and invited him to sustain himself from the fruit offerings given. Hong confessed that he didn't know what to live for and Xie Lian told him "Live for me."

With all the political unrest, drought worries, and epidemic to worry about, Xie Lian didn't remember this child was Hong, who he'd saved from falling and from his cousin before. He merely saved him again and left to do more martial-godly stuff. Eventually, Hong heard through gossip that Xie Lian was on the battlefield fighting the people who wanted to escape the droughts. That, I believe, was when he first began pursuing Xie Lian, probably beginning as a form of hero worship. He snuck onto the wall guard then, and caught a glimpse of Xie Lian and his assistants as they guarded the royal capital. They got notice that Qi Rong was kidnapped and Xie Lian, ever a man god of action, left alone over the wall to fight them.

Hong siezed his chance then and followed him to the mountain, even after he was vastly outstripped by Xie Lian. He still caught up eventually to help Xie Lian deal with the plants, and sliced them down in a fit of anger while they tormented his hero. At this point Hong only ever wanted to pay back his hero for saving him, but was forced to watch Xie Lian harm himself rather than injure the child nearby. Indecency aside, Hong was probably enraged by having to watch his idol stab himself under the influence of demon plants. From there, it isn't hard to imagine Hong learning, perhaps as a young god himself, the exact effects of those demons. He would have learned that Xie Lian would rather sacrifice himself than kill another person. And even if he wouldn't die, he had been prepared to make that sacrifice. It isn't hard to imagine Hong becoming enraged at those demons Xie Lian had faced, before he had known what they would make him do. It isn't hard to imagine Hong, a nascent Demon King, seeking out and destroying all of those kinds of demons in a form of vengeance.

By this point you have probably arrived at the same conclusion as me: Hong/Hua Cheng/San Lang is in love with Xie Lian. He is pursuing him romantically (as well as sexually, though I'm not writing this essay about that) throughout the eras. Yada yada, this was in the summary Mo Xiang Tong Xiu provided with her novel, stop telling me this. I get it. But she likes to take an incredibly roundabout approach to storytelling, not addressing these things until at least 20 chapters later. As of right now the part(s?) when these things are discussed by the characters in-universe have not yet been translated. So forgive my redundance.

Mo Xiang Tong Xiu likes to give color schemes with her main pairings. This was true with Wei Wuxian (red and black) and Lan Wangji (white and blue). It also goes for Xie Lian and Hua Cheng as well. Xie Lian is white, and Hua Cheng is red and black. There might be other colors mentioned for both which I haven't picked up on, so I will only focus on those three. This essay began with everyone besides Xie Lian changing clothes. Hua Cheng changed into black clothes from a previous outfit which was a white robe beneath a red one. Let's examine how that color psychology helps him pursue Xie Lian's affections.

First of all, the red and white. Red is the color of passion, anger, excitement, and danger. It is attractive and alluring. These adjectives all describe the person Hua Cheng became over his 800 year existence. They were shaped by his determination and drive, his tenacity and his passion. His love for Xie Lian shows in his fixing the door, kissing him in the lake, sending up 3,000 lanterns. His love is the kind of unbounded, head-over-heels timeless love we have heard about in the Odyssey: he is the one seeking to find his way back home, back to the person he belongs with. He said so when he told Xie Lian (paraphrased) "Paradise Mansion is a house but not a home. It doesn't feel as much of a home as your tiny cottage does." When he is at the shrine with Xie Lian he is laughing and joking, offering to do domestic things simply because he is content. Here, his red is affection.

When Xie Lian is in danger, his red becomes the red of power and anger. After Xie Lian got stung by a scorpion snake, Hua Cheng immediately stopped the swelling by cutting the wound with a borrowed cauterized knife and sucking out most of the poison. When Xie Lian jumped into the pit after him, Hua Cheng had already killed all the wolves and was waiting to catch him at the bottom. Heavenly officials all told tales of how he caused only death and devastation in his wake.

Perhaps, if he hadn't had someone to look up to, he would have already fulfilled that prophecy of destroying the world.

But with Xie Lian's influence, he had someone to look up to. He had some model of morality in the Crown Prince who had saved him three, four, five times without even demanding thanks in return. Hua Cheng had plenty of time to learn about Xie Lian's compassionate and just lifestyle through hearsay and word-of-mouth news. He had plenty of time to analyze on the actions he'd seen Xie Lian perform firsthand and gain a reasonable grasp on his personal morality. By adopting some form of Xie Lian's moral code, Hua Cheng chose not to kill the entire world. He fought his so-called destiny with Xie Lian as assistance. Or perhaps? Perhaps his evil fate, bound far in the distance like a train stop down the track, was entirely shifted, a shifting of the rails so to speak, the moment he heard Xie Lian, the god who didn't appear to mortals anymore, whisper those words: "Live for me."

He truly took them to heart, although in a different way than Xie Lian probably intended. Rather than living out his life to make Xie Lian proud of him, he strove to become someone on equal footing to the pedestal in his mind he had created for Xie Lian. He strove to become someone who could properly charm Xie Lian and earn his trust. He wanted to be as powerful as Xie Lian was in his heyday. He wanted to have Xie Lian see him as a dependable and trustworthy person, but he probably ran into trouble finding the Flower Crown Prince after Xie Lian descended to the mortal realm for the second time. Everyone may have either made fun of Xie Lian when Hua Cheng asked after him, or flat out didn't care to learn or pass on his location. And so Hua Cheng made his own fortune, embraced his own power, became the Demon King who would kill everyone except the two gods who had formerly assisted Xie Lian.

If there is some plot to Xie Lian's second fall which complicates this somewhat--and knowing Mo Xiang Tong Xiu there probably is what with 135-6 chapters untranslated-- please know that it hasn't been translated yet, and that I am not a psychic. Anyways, when Hua Cheng 'first' appeared to Xie Lian, his clothing was crimson maple leaves on a white background. This shows that his own personality, vibrant and powerful, has been affected profoundly by the gentle, compassionate, noble personality of Xie Lian. He keeps Xie Lian's personality closer to his heart- and shows it to fewer people -than he does with his own personality. Hua Cheng said earlier on in the novel that he would give his ashes- his own biggest weakness- to someone worthy, someone kind who would guard them and do with them as they wished. And that if, at any point, he did something that person didn't like, that person could end him right then and there. Then he left the next morning, leaving Xie Lian with a ring on a silver chain. Suspicious? Hm. Coincidental? Very.

He has known Xie Lian for almost as long as Feng Xin, and nearly as long as Mu Qing has. He has known Xie Lian better than most other followers, since before he was a god. Hua Cheng even defied Xie Lian's orders of forgetting him, as well. That QianDeng Temple was probably built hundreds of years ago, as soon as Hua Cheng became a Demon King, and just sat there waiting for him to bring Xie Lian to see it. Since no one in the crowd was talking about it, and no one ever suggested going near it as a dare, it is reasonable to induct that Hua Cheng built it awhile ago, and Hua Cheng enforced strict punishments towards anyone who dared go near it. He probably tested out E-Ming on whoever tried to visit it, whoever commented on it, etc. Then the rumors got around that you'd be tortured for looking at it so everybody in Ghost City stopped. Once Hua Cheng showed QianDeng Temple to Xie Lian, he was probably nervous that he defied those orders, to forget the god whom he'd idolized, but luckily for him Xie Lian has a shitty memory and was impressed instead of embarrassed or angry at him. Xie Lian has mostly been ostracized from the Heavenly Community due to his infamy and wandering the mortal realms. He doesn't have people with a similar sense of humor to talk to, he's mostly lonely. Which brings us to the black robe: the role Hua Cheng dons in an attempt to win Xie Lian's favor.

In the yin-yang symbol, the two tapering swirls of black and white have a dot of the opposite color inside them. The white is the yin, and the black is the yang. Those two are eternally matched with each other for eternity, a profound meaning not lost on Hua Cheng when he chooses his clothing next. Since Xie Lian has no need to change his outfit, as he already blends in, Hua Cheng changes his own outfit to complement that. Yang energy in Mo Xiang Tong Xiu's novels is typically the energy of the dead, malevolent energy, the resentful power which a certain necromancer harnessed for personal gain. This kind of energy is what ghosts, demons, and the like all share, and as King of Demons it fits Hua Cheng to change to an outfit of its color.

However, the inherent paradox within their relationship is that fundamentally, Xie Lian and Hua Cheng are pitted on opposite spiritual axioms. This is much more complicated than the "opposites attract" adage; Hua Cheng has similar strategies and theories to Xie Lian about the cases they solve together. Xie Lian is happy that his funny password made Hua Cheng laugh. No, there's parts of their personalities picked up by the other and folded into them, whether consciously or not. Hua Cheng's persistence at following Xie Lian during the Qi Rong's rescue becomes Xie Lian's persistence at hunting the fetus spirit, even if he has to swallow it AND his sword to do so. Xie Lian's intervention on Hua Cheng's death becomes Hua Cheng sending "greetings" to tyrants because he has standards for who's allowed to be on the throne, you know. They reflect each other, both looking in a puddle of water, both dripping from the blood of their casualties, accidental or not. The difference is, Hua Cheng can bear that weight of casualties differently than Xie Lian.

Xie Lian considers himself a has-been. He was great once, but not anymore. He failed to do what he'd said he'd do, and paid the price with followers and powers. Hua Cheng, after getting back into contact with him, is just as smitten now as he had ever been before. He showed Xie Lian a roomfull of swords just to hear him ramble for hours about how cool all the swords were and then told him, point-blank, "You can have all these swords." This Demon King wants to give Xie Lian reasons to be happy and excited again. He wants him to go on rants about the stuff he enjoys just so he can watch and listen to the Flower Crown Prince talk, his eyes sparkling, his expression unguarded and happy like he once was.

After they visited QianDeng Temple together, Hua Cheng explained to Xie Lian that none of his things could be stolen from Paradise Manor without his permission. Elaborating further with "...once something is in my hands, it's mine," Hua Cheng might be simply making things up sarcastically. Or, it could be one of the times when he is deadly serious and every word is accurate. We as a reader can't quite tell if Xie Lian is fully processing this, but he thinks to the first time he met Hua Cheng in the Ghost City. There, Hua Cheng had placed his hands carefully over Xie Lian's to help him roll two sixes on the dice. Did that mean he had already claimed Xie Lian as his? Does Xie Lian know the romantic implications behind that? Did he recognize the romantic intentions behind Hua Cheng's kiss? Mo Xiang Tong Xiu experience says that he didn't, but the clues are blaringly obvious to the reader.

Xie Lian has never left Paradise Manor through a door without Hua Cheng by his side. He has left through the roof, but that was one time. It will be interesting to see whether he can leave by himself later. Casein point: Hua Cheng built Xie Lian's door. Did he use the same spell on it that he did with Paradise Manor doors? If so, how can Xie Lian use it when he's not around? A viable explanation is that by giving Xie Lian his own ashes, Hua Cheng has granted Xie Lian co-ownership of Paradise Mansion and he will be able to go wherever he wants at any time. Either way Mo Xiang Tong Xiu chooses, this will be an exciting result. Through all of these cues and more, Mo Xiang Tong Xiu has shown us Hua Cheng's dedication and loyalty to Xie Lian, with his words, actions, and clothing choice. His name, however, as a Demon King: Crimson Rain Sought Flower, is incredibly obvious. The white flower is a symbol he personally gave Xie Lian after he ascended the first time. In QianDeng Temple, Xie Lian even holds it up and asks if "...this is the kind of flower [he is] pursuing," to which Hua Cheng, delighted that Xie Lian finally realizes his romantic feelings, replies that he has the premonition of gods. Xie Lian had only asked about the flower, not himself. It is unknown whether Hua Cheng understood that, but either way his tone reads as teasingly sincere.

One last thing: the whole "falling" in love thing. Hua Cheng fell from the sky in order to first meet Xie Lian. He was probably chock full of adrenaline and scared to death, but once those strong arms caught him and held him away from danger he felt safer than anywhere else in the world. He probably wanted to know more about the person who had saved him. I bet he manipulated the info of who saved him out of Qi Rong when Qi Rong's five hitmen showed up to kill him. I bet just knowing the name of the person who'd saved him was what drove him to fight like a madman to avoid dying by Qi Rong's interference. That led him directly to the carriage's path again, and then to Xie Lian's arms again. He was calm when Xie Lian was holding him, but no one else. He didn't give a shit when the Head Priest predicted a future of only destruction, but heard Xie Lian insisting that he was capable of doing good. This fundamentally changed him as a person, even if Xie Lian didn't remember it later. This, I believe, is the reason why Hua Cheng left the world largely intact. Plus he didn't know where exactly Xie Lian was, so he couldn't just destroy large areas without possibly creating a most unwanted casualty.

Falling from the sky, beaten and dragged behind a cart, accused of bringing doom, watching Xie Lian stoically face angry crowds, asking the god who no one heard from anymore why he should live. Watching the flower demons torment his hero. Although many assume Hua Cheng decided to become strong enough to protect Xie Lian at this point, it could have been a resolve building up since their first interaction. Whatever the case, suffering through watching Xie Lian deal with the outbreak, face the angry mob, get heckled as he held up the Pavilions day in day out, that was the acute torment which fueled Hua Cheng's determination to become powerful. That this remains his worst fear, even after he now is at LEAST as powerful as Xie Lian in his heyday, says much about how much he loves Xie Lian.

Pursue his affections, he's the kind who loves with his entire heart. And since you wear a white robe, his color, close to your heart, perhaps he is the person nearest and dearest to yours...

[howtohero]

We recently ran a survey where we polled various superheroes to discover what they thought the worst parts of their jobs were and proud to finally be able to share our findings with you! (We would’ve had them sooner but somebody decided to take a two week nap under a bridge in schenectady {for the hundredth time, I was mugged and unconscious! Thanks for looking for me by the way!} Thanks getting back here in a timely manner!):

2% of superheroes said that the worst part of their job was the giant gelatin monsters, because they get goop everywhere and everything sticky. 11% said prank calls to their superhero hotline. “Uh… hi, I’d like to report a crime? Yeah it’s… uh… what was it again? Oh yeah! Uh, I’d like to a report a crime and it’s your outfit hahaha get new clothes you trash bag!” 15% said it was the constant pain that they are in because they made a deal with the devil and their soul is constantly on fire but that it is a burden they gladly bear if it means that mankind can be safe for even just one more day. (Dramaaaaaatic.) 27.5% said it was having their memories or friends erased or altered due to time travel shenanigans. 54.5% said supervillains.

Unfortunately, all of those people were wrong and that was a waste of everybody’s time. {Are you kidding me? I spent two weeks in a coma for this!} The worst part of being a superhero is obviously…

#200 Supervillain Teams

{That’s basically what the majority of those people said!} No it’s different!

A single supervillain is plenty dangerous on their own (most of the time) they’re only limited by their own imaginations and their access to resources. (In today’s economy and privacy obsessed cultural climate, you actually need a lot of money to steal a lot of money. It’s kind of like how you need experience in your field before you can get a good job in your field.) So when a bunch of villains put their heads together and pool their cash. Hooboy. Then you’re in trouble. In most universes, the villain to hero ratio favors the villains. This is due to a number of factors. Most people are selfish and when given extraordinary abilities, they will choose to use to benefit themselves as the expense of others. Being a villain is honestly way more fun than being a superhero, especially if like you making your own hours and pontificating in front of large crowds. Also, most villains will kill heroes but most heroes won’t kill villains. So if all of your enemies team up, or if everybody’s enemies team up, you’re going to be in trouble.

Villains are a competitive and dramatic lot, so when a bunch of them sit down for a brainstorming sess, things are definitely going to get out of hand really fast. They’re all going to keep upping the evil ante, as I will now demonstrate for you.

(Scene 1 Act 1: Int. dungeon of some sort. There are skulls everywhere, there’s an actual demon chained to the wall, he’s very sassy and does not want to be there. In the center of the room there is a table, skull-shaped of course, There are several hooded and masked figures sitting at the table. The room smells of sweat and snake venom.)

Al “Da Boss” Marconi: I have called you all here today to finally put an end to those terrible, disgusting, super fools, that keep foiling our schemes.

Assorted villains: Huzzah!

Smuggles: I say we steal all of the dinosaur skeletons from the Museum of Natural History!

Tim the Fabulous Soul Muncher: Let’s replace them with live dinosaurs!

Professor Brain Scrambler: Let’s shoot the entire building with a de-evolution ray and turn everybody there into dinosaurs!!!!!!!!!!!!

The demon chained to the wall: Uh, that’s not how evolution works. Are you dumb? Don’t worry, we won’t judge. Just let us know if you are? You seem like a real moron to me. But what do I know, I’m just an immortal being who personally tortured some of history’s greatest minds.

(And then the demon chained to the wall was the first guinea pig for Professor Brain Scrambler’s de-evolution ray. End scene.)

And that’s just when I decided to end that conversation! Real supervillain meetings go on for way longer and you end up with a plot to turn the Earth into a giant dinosaur that can then be used to eat other planets. <Hey guys quick question and I swear it’s not a big deal. But why wasn’t I at that supervillain meeting. I mean I am the only supervillain you guys personally know. Like if I were writing about, I don’t know, a meeting of the scrawny blogger club, I would definitely put you guys in it. So what gives?> Not now Brainwave. <I mean if you needed a mad scientist, I’m a mad scientist. Did you know Professor Brain Scrambler isn’t even a real professor, he’s just wearing a real professor’s skin. Which I’m pretty sure doesn’t make you an accredited teacher but whatever. Like I said, it’s not really a big deal.>

Whenever you can you need to exercise your influence to try to prevent supervillains from teaming up in the first place. Whenever you’re fighting a villain, make sure not to mention anybody else that you’re fighting. Make them think they’re the only villain in your life. If they don’t know that other villains are out there, they can’t team up with them. Also, supervillains are very jealous and possessive. So if they hear you’re fighting somebody else on the side they’re going to get very upset and seek out the other villain and tell them that you’re a dirty two-timing superhero and then they’ll definitely team up to push your car into a river or something. I’d suggest keeping supervillains isolated from each other when they’re incarcerated as well. If you keep them with regular criminals, at worst they recruit a few new henchmen, but if you keep them locked up with other super villains you’re going to have a Legion of Really Really Mean People situation on your hands. However, this often is not feasible. There are only so many prisons out there that are equipped to hold superpowered criminals. But there are a few! More than one! Which gives us some room to play around here. You should try to work with other superheroes and these prison wardens to group villains together in the same prison that you think would never get along long enough to scheme together. For example, you could probably lock up Dr. Brainwave and Professor Brain Scrambler in the same jail without running into any issues. Because they hate each other. They hate each other so much. Also, police, superheroes, whomever, if you’re looking for wanted criminal Frederick Kaminsky aka Dr. Brainwave, he’s here. He’s in our basement and he won’t leave. I don’t know if that technically makes the rest of us hostages, I’m not like a lawyer [it doesn’t] but please come and pick him up. <Awww you mentioned me, that’s all I wanted. Thanks man!> Seriously, somebody come arrest him.

If you’ve colossally messed up and allowed a vast supervillain conspiracy team up to happen right under your noses then you need to get all hands on deck. Call every superhero you know. Even the the ones you hate. Even the ones who were dead last time you checked, they might be back now. Like I said, you’re already outnumbered so you need to call literally everybody you can think of here. Every noble-hearted magical creature and monster, every sympathetic quasi-deity, aliens that you’ve made alliances with over the years, heck even the members of that book club we had you join. Everybody needs to be on their A-game for this. If not, the villains could well succeed in wiping you all out and taking over the world. And we can’t give them that kind of satisfaction.

Once you’ve got your super army assembled, you need to begin a war on two fronts. Split your group into two teams. One team to actually go and fight the bad guys wherever they might crop up to perform evil deeds. It is unlikely that every villain is going to go everywhere at once, they’ll probably split up and pull off crazy evil schemes. So if you’re part of that team, be prepared for anything. I mean anything. 50-foot tall evil pants. (If your enemies are anything like mine, they have a wicked sense of humor. Trying getting the pants to tell a lie of some sort. I’m willing to bet that it’s rigged to burst into flames if it does. Nobody commits to a bit like a supervillain.) The ground turning into acid beneath your feet. (Pack a jetpack.) A dude with a blackhole in his chest. (Bring a really big cork). Anything.

The other group needs to start a whispering campaign to destabilize this villain alliance. Any team up between supervillains is relatively flimsy and a short term arrangement at best. As soon as the superheroes are all done away with, the villains are going to begin fighting amongst themselves for dominance. So if you can get that process started earlier, before all of the heroes are killed off or turned into monkey jesters, you could cause the alliance to collapse in on itself. You and your allies should start calling up your nemeses (don’t pretend you guys haven’t exchanged contact info at some point. I saw them at your last birthday party!) and ask them what the plan is long term. Ask them if they really want to share power with all these other villains, especially since they’re all highly likely to betray them. If you get enough villains antsy about the whole thing you can cause the entire thing to collapse and then you and your super friend can round up the injured and confused villains following the inevitable civil war.

Of course, not every supervillain team is the result of a large supervillain alliance. Some supervillains simply start out as a team, possibly because none of them on their own are really a threat. These villains have no independent resources to pool so even if they’ve got outlandish ideas, they’re pretty manageable. Here’s a list of a few other types of supervillain teams:

Gangs turned supervillains: These guys were a group of criminals before they got their powers. Unlike other villain teams, they don’t have their eyes set on world domination or the mass extinction of supervillains.

Mirror Universe Counterparts: These guys are just like your superhero team, but from another dimension and evil. To get an idea of what this might look like, take a magic marker to your team picture and draw goatees on everyone.

Cults: Cults are a lot like a regular supervillain organization. The leader is usually the only true supervillain, while the rest of the followers are just henchmen with creepy hoods.

Evil armies: As we’ve mentioned, some countries are unfortunately, led by supervillains. Meaning their armies are technically supervillain armies.

Villain families: This is just a regular family who bond by dropping spider-bombs into preschools or blowing up dams. It’s actually kind of sweet. You know what they say, a family who slays together, stays together.

Hopefully you now have everything you need to combat any supervillain teams that might rise up during your superhero career. Remember, supervillain teams need to be handled and dismantled as quickly as possible. So… heh… I guess don’t waste too much time reading this extra long post. Read this before the supervillains team up! Or have a speed reader read it and summarize! Any way good luck!

[darkmindsthinktwistedthoughts]

Wormhole Tales

Warning: strong language and one sneaky snake lord.

MasterList

---

Preparations

It was a breezy day in the past, as she walked back from Azuki’s castle town from her deliveries. The wind picked up suddenly and caught her hair pulling it loose, causing her favourite hair pin to drop to the ground at her feet.

The delicate flower decorations that were once on it had broken, with a heavy heart she retrieved it from the ground and tucked it into her kimono. Maybe Sasuke would know if there was a substitute for super glue in the Sengoku period. I’ll have to ask him when he next visits. [Name] tried not to think about it and made her way to the Tenshu to see Nobunaga as he had sent a page earlier summoning her.

She climbed the stairs to the highest room feeling the ache in her legs as she did so. Why can’t he just be like everyone else and have a room or manor on the ground? Pointless query as if he did then he wouldn’t be the man she had grown to admire as both a successful warlord but a boss as well. He sometimes demanded the most outlandish unbelievable things but mostly he was kind and guided with a firm even hand. If you told me I’d think that about Nobunaga Oda back when I first met him I’d have laughed in your face and said you were off your trolley. She chuckled slightly and smiled as she tapped the shoji doors to his room.

“It’s [Name].”

“Enter.” The voice was clear but also a bit distant. He isn’t in bed, is he?

Sliding the door open and carefully peeking in [Name] found the room empty. Hesitating in the door way she was confronted when a disembodied voice spoke to her.

“What are you doing? Come here.”

Nobunaga called to her from the balcony where he was standing leaning on the balustrade drinking sake. [Name] obediently entered sliding the door gentle shut and moved to the balcony next to her employer.

“Bit early in the day for that don’t you think?” Her tone was a mix of teasing and chastisement as she motioned to the sake.

“Now you are starting to sound like Hideyoshi.” With a small huff Nobunaga downed his drink.

Standing patiently smiling a bright airy smile she looked out at the view. It was spectacular, the castle gardens below, castle town beyond the main wall and the rolling landscape of the world beyond. Not a modern building, telegraph pole or wire in sight to mar the view.

“I called you because I’m arranging a banquet tonight and wish for you to help with the preparations.” He was also gazing into the far distance as he addressed her.

“Of course, is it for anything in particular or did you just feel like not drinking alone?” She could have sounded shocked at the short notice or argued that more time was required but she knew it was pointless when Nobunaga made up his mind no force on the known world could change it.

This gained a deep chuckle and broad smile from Nobunaga. He turned in her direction and walked gracefully stopping just in front of her blocking her view of everything else.

“You really are the most entertaining woman I have ever met. You speak your mind without hesitation, you don’t think twice about chastising me or my subordinates, you work harder than you have need too and yet you ask for nothing in return.” He was smiling at her eyes glittering as they traced over her face and made her feel like he was about to eat her.  

“I’m hearing lots of compliments but no explanations.” She held her ground and indignant tone and gave her best impersonation of a babysitter talking to a troublesome child.

A small snort and Nobunaga pulled himself back slightly from her personal space.

“It is a pre-battle banquet to boost morale. I will expect the usual level of opulence you normally produce for such affairs. The food will be dealt with by Masamune on his request and Hideyoshi has already sent out the orders and payments to the traders who will be delivering the goods to the castle gates later today.” His tone was back from sultry to nothing but business and for that she was grateful. It allowed her to breath, he was a master at catching her off guard but she had learnt to handle him just like the others.

“Very well I shall do my best to meet your expectations my Lord.” She gave a tiny bob for a bow.

There was a loud rapping at the door announcing the arrival of another visitor.

“I shall be going now if there is nothing further.” She moved to excuse herself but maintaining protocol she waiting to be granted actually permission first before moving.

“No that is all you may leave.” Nobunaga waved his hand and nodded his head.

Respectfully retreating back to the main door and sliding it open to leave [Name] meet the eyes of both Ieyasu and Hideyoshi as she was leaving.

“What are you doing here?” The words weren’t as harsh as the tone as Ieyasu opened his mouth but she gave him a sickly-sweet smile and he clamped his mouth shut.

“The same as you I expect Ieyasu I was summoned. Good Morning by the way.” Tilting her head slightly in a polite head bow to the abrasive fluffy haired warlord.

“And to you as well Hideyoshi, good morning.” After inclining her head once more to the second warlord she smiled a bit less forced.

“Good morning [Name] you are looking well did you remember to eat breakfast?” The enquiry was normal and motherly. He worried about everyone and fretted dreadfully over others happiness. It was sweet but could be very overbearing.

“Yes … I did thank you, I even made sure to brush my teeth and get dressed by myself.” [Name]’s tone was light and bouncy but laced with teasing sarcasm. Masamune had often commented about how at times she could give Ieyasu a run for his money.

The gained a loud laugh from the balcony as Nobunaga watched their exchange of greeting and Ieyasu struggled to maintain his usual grumpy facade.

“Excuse me gentlemen I have work to be getting on with.”

She brushed past them and began her decent on the stairs.

“I don’t think I will ever get used to her.” Hideyoshi muttered as he watched her disappear down the staircase.

“I don’t see a reason to try to. A weakling like that, she’ll be gone in time.” Ieyasu said it but he didn’t truly think it. A really contrarian to the bitter end.

“Don’t go selling our little Fireball short now Ieyasu she may very well out last us all.” Nobunaga had joined them at the door fondly staring in the direction that the Princess gone in.

---

When Nobunaga Oda says he wishes to throw a party there are two things you don’t do the first is keep him waiting and the second, well that was question his love for his men. He often spoke of them as pieces for him to use like the stones in a game of Go but he never once took a life for granted every life was worth something to him and whilst there was no denying the fact the banquet did provide a morale boost among the men they also served as an unspoken way of him celebrating the blood and lives willingly given to him in his ambitious quest to unify the country.

The deliveries had been made as promised and the kitchen was alive and working like a well-oiled machine under the direction of Masamune who was demonstrating different things to the castle chiefs and calling out orders left and right to put together the feast for the evening. If this was back in my time he would be a head chief I’m sure. Smiling [Name] moved past the kitchen doors carrying some fresh vases of flowers that were to be set up in the audience chamber with the rest of the decorations.

“Oh Lady [Name]!”

A young maid came out of the chamber and called out to her.

“Akiko, did you need something?” Pausing in her journey to finish her task [Name] asked the troubled looking girl.

“Well we were setting up the decorations for tonight as you requested but we appear to be missing some and I’ve looked and can’t seem to find them anywhere. I was about to find Lord Hideyoshi and ask what I was to do.” Akiko explained the situation looking more and more unsettled as she went on.

“No need to bother him with that I might know where they went. Some things got moved when Lord Mitsunari was doing a castle wide inventory. You take these for me right now and I’ll go see if I can hunt them down.” [Name] smiled brightly as this was one of those mountains out of a mole hill thing that was by no means the worst she had imagined happening at short notice. It was almost relaxing to be given a simple problem to correct at this point in her time in the Sengoku era.

“Thank you very much Lady [Name] I’m very sorry to cause you trouble.” Akiko bowed deeply, now it was [Name]’s turn to feel unsettled. All these formalities really made her feel like she was even more out of place.

“No trouble at all I assure you. See you in a bit.”

After handing over the large vases to Akiko [Name] gave a little wave and walked back along the hallway to a small staircase that took her to another level in the castle and towards the storage area. The castle was far too large but she figured it was a castle at the end of the day and not her tiny apartment she had left behind in the future so it was naturally big.

Descending further the air became more chilled and the lighting was provided from small lamps instead of latticed windows. If I was more of a sensitive type I guess this is exactly the kind of place I would imagine ghosts to be. Just as that thought was given life in her mind several of the lamps sputtered casting stranger shadows on the walls and floor or the corridor and she involuntarily shivered.

After a short time, she had come to the door she was looking for. It wasn’t a room that had sliding doors like the ones upstairs it was sturdier and heavier, made out of solid hardwood. Nobunaga often received offerings from all over his concurred domains and they had to be put somewhere. Hideyoshi insisted that due to the value of the items that they should be placed somewhere safe in order to protect then for Nobunaga’s future use. The result was unless stated otherwise the items were all moved to storage and packed away, soon to be forgotten.

Pushing her whole shoulder and small frame against the door it gave a load creaking sound and it started to shift inch by inch from its position. Once there was enough space she grabbed a lamp from inside the corridor and carried it into the pitch-black room.

The dust gathered on most of the surfaces in think layers and the air was stale leaving a strange taste in her mouth as she worked her way around stacks of items and crates carefully looking for the decorations she knew must still be here somewhere. A label on the side of a crate buried under some others caught her eye ‘lanterns, decorations, miscellaneous party stuff.’ That’s it! Feeling happy with herself she reached out to start to uncover her discovery and just as she did so a pair of arms wrapped around her waist causing her to jump and make a rather undignified noise in surprise.

“Ah!”

“What luck. It looks like I caught a little mouse.” A low purring voice that had the edge of a hiss to it resonated in her ear.

“Mitsuhide!? What the Hell do you think you are doing?” [Name] angrily spat.

“I was just passing by and imagine my surprise when I found our dearly loved Chatelaine dangerously risking bodily harm in a horrible dark storage room. So, I simply had to come to your aid my dear there was nothing else for it.” She didn’t have to see his face to be able to hear the smirk as he teased her.

His grip was loose but still she couldn’t free herself from his grasp.

“Well you would know all about horrible dark dangerous places. Now you’ve had your fun could you let go of me please? I have to get the decorations back up to the banquet.” Wriggling in place she put on her best stop messing with me tone.

“Ah yes, that little party was tonight wasn’t it? Pity I was so hoping to spend a little more alone time with you.” She could feel his nose on the hairs of the back of her neck. He’s so close.

“Well I’m sorry to burst your bubble but I have no intention of staying with you alone or otherwise.”

As if on cue the door to the room closed with a deep thud and the movement also blew out the lantern she had brought in plunging the space into complete darkness. Oh, great. Just great! Now I’m stuck in a room in the dark with Lord Creepy Snake. If this was party game from back when I was a kid it wouldn’t be seven minutes in Heaven it’s more like Hell. The man did nothing but tease and torment her since her arrival and spared no time at all when she was struggling in making her situation worse. Quietly dreading what might happened next [Name] let out a sigh and resigned herself to the inevitable torture that was no doubt likely to follow.

She was surprised as his grip released and his arms moved away from her body. The warmth she hadn’t noticed was there until it wasn’t gone served to make her feel there loss even more.

“Mitsuhide?” Uncertainty etching in her voice.

“What is it my dear? Don’t tell you you’re afraid of the dark.” He was practically laughing his breath tumbling from his mouth in waves as he suppressed the audible sound of he enjoyment.

She heard movement even though she couldn’t see it. Things being touched, moved, shuffled. She knew it was him and that he was taking great delight in his ability to move without her being able to see him but it didn’t stop her shuddering from her spot on the floor. What is he up to?

[Name] tried to strain her eyes in the darkness but it was no good it was too dark and the noises got further away and then closer again until they stopped altogether. The silence was eerily creepy now. She was a rational person she didn’t believe in ghosts she kept telling herself over and over in her head but her body had other ideas it was trembling.

A hand grabbed her arm suddenly from behind catching her off guard and causing her to yelp as she tumbled backwards into a solid chest.

“You seem to be having some difficulty in adapting to your surroundings my dear allow me to be of some comfort to you.” His low gravelly voice was right by her ear, his breath ghosting over her nape. She tensed up at the sensation.

“This is not comforting Mitsuhide.” [Name] tried to squirm her way free of his grasp but once again his grip was stronger than it appeared.

“Indeed, it is unfortunate that you do not seem to be very relaxed. Ok let’s try something else.”

“Something else wait what are you planning on… AH!”

The world tilted around her and she was spun quickly on the spot and was guided to a seat on what felt like a pile of textiles. Wait did he find these in the dark and set this up? The noises in the dark came back to her mind and she felt momentarily guilty for thinking he was just trying to tease her.

Once again arms appeared from behind her and she was held inside them. The wall of his body pressed behind her back firmly like a protective shield from the darkness. But it’s not the darkness that troubles me. She could feel his chest rise and fall as he breathed. His warmth seeping again into her body warming her from the inside out.

“If you were planning on taking a seat you could have warned me.” She was thankful for the cover of darkness as she was certain that her face was bright red right now.

“And where would be the fun in that?” His voice was even lower more heated [Name] was now completely sure all the blood had rushed to her head as her legs felt a little weak.

He took one of his hands and stroked her hair. She could feel it falling between his slender fingers and despite herself she began to relax a little. After a short time, the temple bells, muffled by the walls rang out, and Mitsuhide broke their silence.

“What time was the banquet again?” How did he manage to make a mundane question sound so intoxicating?

“A quarter after the bells.” She was fighting hard not to lean back into him now. Strength leaving her only sheer will power keeping her upright.

“Mmm well then it seems our little tryst must come to an end my dear.” His voice had lost it’s edge it was normal. In the blink of an eye it was like someone had flicked a switch.

He once again let her go and her body swayed a little as the warmth was replaced with a chill. Mitsuhide moved further away and after a little bit of shuffling a small pool of light came into the room and revealed a small gap just large enough for one person to slip though into what appeared to be a crawl space connecting to another room that was apparently naturally lit and used as part of the main castle.

“Wait a minute what is that!?” Irritation in her voice coupled with the personal anger she felt at the fact she had let him almost make her ‘feel’ something.

“A doorway of sorts.” His matter of fact tone was irritating.

“I see that! If you knew that was there the whole time then why on earth did you not do something sooner!?” witnessing her unravelling agitation made him smirk.

“I told you My dear sweet little mouse I wanted to spend more time alone with you. As you were reluctant to comply I merely arranged things in my favour.” Slyness dripped of his tongue and she had a sudden urge to slap his face so hard it would make his eyes roll out.

“You underhanded, sneaky, slithering…” She was spitting insults as she got up from the floor.

“Flattery will get you nowhere my dear I’m afraid. We are after all rather pushed for time now and while I do so enjoy listening to you whispering sweet nothings in my ear we will be rather late for the main event if we dally any longer.”

He slipped out and hopped gracefully into the room beyond the darkness. He held out his hand and if it hadn’t been so damned difficult to move in a kimono in the first place she would have never taken it.

She gave him a cold glare that would have solved global warming as she smoothed out her attire. The Hair ornament she had tucked up inside fell once more to the floor and Mitsuhide obligingly picked it up for her.

“Such a pity … and it was your favourite one too.” His voice was almost as if he was reminiscing about something that mattered personally to him. How did he know it was my favourite?

Instead of handing it over he instead removed a small bundle from his kimono and handled her that instead.

“What’s this?” [Name] took it gingerly in her hands and stared at Mitsuhide who had an unreadable expression on his face.

“I really couldn’t say, you’ll have to open it to find out.”

[Name] pulled lightly on the fabric covering the mystery item, she was half expecting it to be something poisonous ready to pounce on her when it was revealed. Instead what she was left holding was a beautiful new hair pin and comb.

The comb was decorated with cherry blossoms and the pin had two glass beads in a white and teal colours yellow gold wrapping around them holding them to the lacquered spike. Lost for words she stood there, mouth gaped and looked up at Mitsuhide.

“I noticed earlier you didn’t have your hair pinned. I knew you did when you left to go out but it was different on your return. I thought you might be requiring a new one. Seems I was right.” Mitsuhide spoke as if everything about what he had just said was common knowledge and of little interest.

“You noticed something like that?” Her voice was small as she wondered in awe at the man before her.

He took the comb and pin, quickly styling the loose hair around her shoulders into something more presentable and arranged them for her on her head.

“My dear I notice everything when it comes to you.” His face was completely serious and his voice held no hint of a lie.

He smiled at her frozen dumbfounded state and glided past her to the shoji doors and glanced back at her with a smirk.

“Whilst you are a very attractive fly catcher my dear we have a party to be getting too.” He chuckled as he slipped away from sight and [Name] shook her head as she tried to clear her thoughts from the BSOD. I will never understand that man… so why do I want to?

---

[sage-nebula]

The Office Survey

@theofficestan came up with some cool survey questions for The Office, and I saw said questions in the tag, and since I have some time to kill (while I’m here, at work . . . my life is The Office in a lot of ways tbh), I figured why not? 

This got long, though, so I’m putting it under a cut.

1.)  Your three favorite seasons of The Office? (in order, if possible)

HMMM, outside of my top favorite season, this one is hard. But if I had to choose . . .

Four

Five

Either Seven or Nine

Four is an obvious winner. Although it’s tragically the shortest season due to the writers’ strike, every single episode in season four is pure gold, to the point where it’s really hard to pick just a handful of favorites. I mean, honestly, season four is home to these pure gems:

“Fun Run”

“Dunder-Mifflin Infinity”

“Launch Party”

“Money”

“Local Ad”

“Dinner Party”

“Did I Stutter”

“Goodbye Toby”

And that’s me narrowing it down. Honestly, season four was just . . . easily the best, imo. In addition to having so many good episodes (many of which were double the length, which slightly takes off the sting of it being a shorter season overall), the character balance was just really on point as well. Pam and Jim had just gotten together, so they were arguably at their cutest (arguably, because let’s be honest, they’re almost always cute); Michael escaped his abusive relationship with Jan and was starting his growth into a character that you could really root for; Dwight and Angela sadly broke up, and she began her relationship (read: fiasco) with Andy; I honestly prefer Ryan as the temp and wish that Karen had gotten that job instead of him, but at the same time we saw some growth and evolution in his relationship with Michael as well; Toby revealed himself to be a total creep, and so on and so forth. Season four is just really great! I really wish it had been longer.

That said, season five is also really, really good, and has to be my second favorite. Aside from the fact that this is where the Michael/Holly storyline started and was arguably at its best (I still like them later, I just prefer how they were depicted in s5), season five had the Michael Scott Paper Company arc which was AMAZING and I wish it had lasted longer (I really loved the brot3 that was Michael & Pam & Ryan; they were something else), as well as the episodes:

“Weight Loss”

“Customer Survey”

“The Surplus” (even the the “conflict” here makes no sense, it’s still a good episode)

“The Duel”

“Prince Family Paper” (COMEDY GOLD)

“Stress Relief” (ALSO COMEDY GOLD)

“Lecture Circuit” (SAME)

The Michael Scott Paper Company episodes as mentioned (“Two Weeks” - “Broke”)

And again, this isn’t to say the other episodes were bad, because they weren’t. This is me trying to narrow it down to some top faves.

Lastly, seven or nine . . . it’s hard for me to choose. Seven is up there because it did have some really good episodes, including quite a few which highlighted the relationship between Jo and Michael (which, while brief, was one of my faves). It also brought Michael and Holly back together, and “Michael’s Last Dundies” and “Goodbye Michael” are episodes that make me tear up every time. On the other hand, Michael also leaves, and that’s painful (even though the show is still good even after he leaves, and anyone who says otherwise is wrong), so. Season nine, meanwhile, was AGONIZING to watch as it was airing, considering all that goes on with Jim and Pam; I was on tenterhooks every week, terrified that the show was going to ruin everything and split them up. But it didn’t! They pulled through, and honestly I like that they were portrayed as a more realistic couple. We also had the introductions of Pete and Clark, who had a bit of a rough start but were still nice additions to the cast, as well as the best series finale a TV show has ever had (which is why I’m praying they don’t ruin it with a reboot). So both season seven and nine probably tie as my third favorite seasons overall.

2.) Your two favorite romances other than Jim/Pam?

In order:

Michael/Holly

Dwight/Angela

Michael and Holly edge out over Dwight and Angela purely because I feel that Michael and Holly were less dysfunctional. Like, there’s a quote from Angela in 2x15 where she says, “I’m in the healthiest relationship of my life,” but the joke is that she’s not; her insistence on secrecy with their relatonship is a mark of unhealthiness in their relationship, not because they’re bad for each other, but because neither of them are really in a place where they can be together healthily and happily. Of course they don’t stay this way; both Dwight and Angela grow exponentially over the course of the show, and by the time the finale comes they’re both very happy and healthy. But they had a period where they were, imo, just as dysfunctional as Ryan/Kelly, just in a different way, and others (Andy in particular) were caught in the crossfire because of it. Meanwhile, Michael and Holly never had that problem, and honestly, they’re just so dorky and cute. It’s not hard to believe that they are, in fact, soup snakes soulmates. So for me, Michael/Holly edges out over Dwight/Angela, though I love Dwight/Angela a lot as well.

3.) The five Office episodes you watch most often?

I honestly can’t answer this, because I’m one of those people that watches the show all the way through, and then two days later starts again from 1x01. I’m incorrigible. However, anything from seasons four or five is a safe bet if I’m just wanting to grab a singular episode to watch out of the blue. Also 2x12 “The Injury.”

4.) Pick just five favorite characters

MMHHH . . . I’m going to cheat and do two separate lists. The first one is for main characters (not just those in the opening credits, but also those who are in a lot of prominent storylines, such as Erin, Angela, and Robert California), and then one for side characters. I’m justifying this because it’s pretty much impossible to not have a top five list dominated by main characters since they receive so much focus, but The Office also has so many fantastic side characters that I don’t want to leave out.

So that said:

Top 5 Main Characters:

Jim Halpert

Pam Beesly-Halpert

Dwight Schrute

Ryan Howard* 

Michael Scott

See?? The headliners really dominate. That said, Ryan gets an asterisk because I’m very picky about the seasons in which I love him. I like him best in seasons 1-3, where he’s there to be a deadpan snarker who is just . . . resigned and yet not to the fact that he’s a temp in this ridiculous place. I like him again in season five during the Michael Scott Paper Company arc. But otherwise I’m very “eh” about Ryan, because I feel that they often didn’t quite know what to do with him, and he wasn’t as entertaining as a hipster douchebag as he was when he was a quiet deadpan snarker. Jim says once, “I liked you better as the temp,” and Ryan says, “Me, too,” and honestly, same.

Top 5 Side Characters:

Stanley Hudson

Oscar Martinez

Nellie Bertram

Darryl Philbun

David Wallace

Yes, I really like Nellie. I’ll admit that part of it is because I adore Catherine Tate, but I also feel that a lot of people unnecessarily lambast her simply because they like Andy, and in all honesty, Andy deserved to lose his job after he did a No Call, No Show that involved hanging up on the CEO, and deliberately refusing calls when he knew that his job was on the line. He chose Erin over his job, and the fact that he felt he could just do that with impunity was a mark of his own immaturity. No, Nellie didn’t get the job in a very conventional way, but Robert California was not a conventional CEO. Doesn’t change the fact that she was selected, or that Andy acted like a prat.

Anyway, Stanley is amazing and severely underrated. I love Stanley. He deserves his decommissioned lighthouse that has a button he can press to launch that lighthouse into space. Give it to him. (Alternatively, he has earned his place in Florida. I’m glad he’s happy Florida Stanley for the remainder of his days.)

5.)  Name three unpopular opinions you have about the show

Haha, let’s see:

The show was not bad after Michael left. Though honestly, I feel that this opinion is mostly shared by people who aren’t really fans of The Office as much as just people who know of it, and like an occasional episode, but otherwise don’t care that much. I’m never one to participate in “true fan” nonsense, but people who say that The Office sucked after Michael left remind me of genwunners in the Pokémon fandom: They like the early parts they saw, but didn’t want to give later things a chance. I admit that season eight especially has its rough patches, but that doesn’t mean that it was bad. I love all nine seasons of The Office---even season one has gems like “The Alliance”---and I disagree hard that the show was terrible after Michael left. Of course I missed him, but the rest of the cast was strong enough to still carry the show after he was gone.

As expressed above, Andy deserved to lose the regional manager position, Nellie would have been better at it, and Andy/Erin was tbh a bad relationship. This is three in one, but since they all center around Andy, I figure it’s fine to include them all in one.  I already kind of explained above why Andy deserved to lose his job, but honestly, he really seriously did. You can’t just pull a No Call, No Show that involves you hanging up on the CEO and expect to keep your job. Hell, in most professional environments you can’t pull a No Call, No Show period and expect to keep your job unless you have a damn good excuse, and that’s the thing: Had Andy done that because he, say, got in a bad car accident on the way to work, or had a family emergency, that would be one thing. But he didn’t. He did that because he wanted to go get Erin back, and the only reason why he wanted her was because he couldn’t have her (more on that in a second). Andy didn’t have a good reason for blowing off work, he just didn’t. By doing what he did, he demonstrated that he didn’t actually care about his job. Therefore, he deserved to lose it. Secondly, I do think that Nellie would have been better. Sure, she was clueless---but so was Michael. So was Andy. The only people to have that position over the course of the show who weren’t clueless were Jim and Dwight (well, Dwight in season nine, at least). Nellie might have been clueless, but she could have learned, particularly since it was obvious that Dwight was keen on helping her with it. In addition to that, though, Nellie was her own, original character; after Michael left and Andy replaced him, it felt a bit like they were trying to write Andy as though he was Michael. He wasn’t quite a Michael clone, but there were certain episodes (such as “Gettysburg”) that had a Michael feel to them. But Nellie didn’t have that issue; Nellie had her own backstory, her own issues, and while she was clueless, she was clueless in a way that was different than Michael or Andy. She was a shake-up to the already established dynamic of the show, and so I feel that she would have been a better fit not necessarily in the sense that she was better equipped to be manager, but that having her in that seat could have led to some more original episodes over the course of season eight especially. Lastly, I’m sorry, but Andy/Erin was terrible and I’m glad it sank. It was really cute at first; the flirtationship they had was cute at first, particularly since they were both silly and immature. However: The Office is, overall, excellent in terms of character writing. For the most part, all of the characters are well-written, well-rounded, and realistic. However, Andy Bernard is one of the few exceptions. They changed his character both subtly and massively depending on the storyline they wanted to have, and writing him as more innocent and silly so that they could pair him up with Erin is one instance of this. Look at how Andy tries to court Erin in comparison to how he tried to court Angela; you could argue that he’s just shifting his approach in order to woo a different girl, and/or that his relationship with Angela changed him, but in honesty it doesn’t feel that way because we’re supposed to believe that Andy’s shyness is a genuine part of him. Andy was never shy about approaching women; in fact, in season three he says that his success with women is tied partly to his ability to slowly and steadily wear someone down. And we see this with Angela; he keeps pursuing her until she finally gives in. With Erin he was very tentative about it, coming across as more innocent, sweet, and a bit silly, which I think was probably due in part to the age difference between them, so that it wouldn’t seem creepy. Nonetheless, it’s hard to enjoy the fact that they���re both silly and naive when that’s . . . not really Andy, both before and after they’re together for the first time. They’re not really a good match for each other unless Andy’s personality is changed to specifically make it so. Moving on from that, and also setting aside how awful the will-they-won’t-they nonsense was (their first break-up was ridiculous, and clearly only done so that the writers could continue the will-they-won’t-they for the sake of drama), it’s as I said above: After their first break-up, Andy only ever wanted Erin when he couldn’t have her, and in that, it came to feel like he viewed and cherished her less as a person and more as something to win and then possess.  I mean, think about it. Erin breaks up with Andy because of a contrived reason (she found out about his prior relationship with Angela). She ends up going out with Gabe, and Andy spends the duration of Erin’s time with Gabe being upset that Gabe “stole his girlfriend” (he didn’t; they weren’t together at the time), and insistent that Erin was “still in love” with him (she wasn’t; they only dated for like three weeks). Eventually, Erin decides that she does still have feelings for Andy, and she breaks up with Gabe to get together with him. After she makes this known, Andy . . . rejects her, because it “doesn’t feel right.” In other words: Andy was upset pretty much the entire time Erin was unavailable, but the second she was available and wanted to be with him, he lost interest. He then proceeds to keep ignoring her until he finally gets a new girlfriend of his own, Jessica. He then proceeds to up the ante on ignoring her, and starts going out of his way to hurt her feelings or otherwise flaunt his relationship (e.g. replacing her as head of the Halloween party without telling her, saying loudly how much he loves Jessica on a phone call with her when he knows that Erin is within earshot, etc). Eventually, Erin decides to pull a Jim and move away so that she can move on from Andy. Suddenly, after a season of ignoring her and deliberately flaunting his relationship in her face, Andy decides that he must have her back, and drives down to Florida to harass her until she comes back with him (there’s the “wear ‘em down until they say yes” Andy we all know and vaguely dislike).  In other words: Andy was not romantically interested in Erin (and no, following her home to make sure Robert didn’t take advantage of her doesn’t count imo; that read less like jealousy and more like genuine concern considering that Robert is kiiiind of a creep), and in fact went out of his way to make that clear, but the second he saw that she was moving on from him, he just had to have her back. So he gets her back, and they return to Scranton. And what happens then? Well, he loses interest. Again. Except instead of breaking up with her, Andy just starts ignoring her again because there are other aspects of his life that are more interesting or enticing. His a capella drama is more interesting. His family’s boat is more interesting. And then he leaves her to go sailing on a boat for three months. And though he keeps in constant contact with David Wallace and tags her in memes on twitter, he only e-mails her four times. Once again, since he knew that Erin had interest in him, he lost interest in her. He had no interest in actually maintaining their relationship or spending time with her. So then Erin breaks up with him so that she can pursue Pete, someone who is genuinely interested in her and wants to be with her. And once again, now that Erin is unavailable, Andy wants her back. He tries to convince her to stay with him even though she is unhappy, telling her that if she fakes it, he won’t know the difference. He’s so utterly selfish that he literally does not care at all about her feelings. And while many felt this was out of left field, it’s not at all a surprise considering he only had interest in her when she didn’t have interest in him. He didn’t care about Erin as a person, really; he didn’t like or love her so much as he liked / loved the idea of her being into him. When he saw that he lost that, he flipped out. That’s not love, and it’s not a good relationship, and tbh I’m glad that she dumped his ass. Pete might have been (okay, was) underdeveloped, but at least he was genuinely into Erin, ffs.

I don’t think Creed is that great. Actually, I kind of dislike him. Don’t get me wrong, he does have some good lines. But mostly I just feel that he was a bit over the top with his creepiness in later seasons (such as the implications that he committed murder?), I don’t find any of his lines to be all that spectacular, and honestly, I can’t forgive him for what he did to Debbie Brown. I really can’t. So while most fans of The Office adore Creed, I’m just not one of them. Sorry, but I think he’s a bit overrated. That said, his song and final lines in the finale were great. But then again, everything about the finale was great, so that’s no surprise. :P

Thanks for making this; it was fun and a great way to kill time at work!

[queenoftrashgoddessofchaos-blog]

MONSTA X MAFIA AU

History: Founded by Shownu and Wonho in the year 20xx, the Montella Family is a mafia organization in Seoul. They had been under the Stellanave family for a long time until the boss and underboss had a dispute that resulted in the division of the family which caused the family to fall apart. The Montella family chose not to side to anyone claiming that they do not serve any boss but instead they served the family. Those who shared their views joined the family and became an independent family. Their dealings range from smuggling to assassination. They have a few alliances in other families in Seoul like Banlidiche family, Seveno family, and Gotillon family. There are seven original members of this family that operated on their own while they were still getting started until their family grew.

Rules: 1. Do not kill unless it is absolutely necessary 2. Do not disclose information about the family to anyone outside of it 3. No one shall start any disputes amongst the members 4. All the operations must go through the boss or the underboss first 5. Should any member break any of the rules, they shall be given appropriate punishments

Members:

SHOWNU

As one of the founder, Shownu became the boss by default. He is in charge of all the decision makings in the family. He comes off as a quiet boss but everyone in the family knows better than to disobey him. He does not show or demonstrate his authority causing the other six to be so relaxed around him and makes the rest of the family sometimes wonder if he really is the boss. But the original members make sure that everybody knows Shownu holds all the authority.

Shownu sits on a couch inside his office. In front of him is a glass table full of papers waiting to be read and go through. He massages his temples and takes a sip of his coffee. He picks up one document and reads it. It is a proposal for a whore house in the third district. He raises his left eyebrow upon reading it.

Who in the world sent this? Everybody knows I don’t do human trafficking.

He reaches for his phone and is about to call for his underboss when the door suddenly opens.

“Oh Wonho, I was just about to call you.”

Wonho looks at him, confused.

He raises the document and shakes it lightly.

“Do you know who sent this? It’s a proposal for a whore house. We don’t do this kind of business.”

“Really? Probably one of those assholes from Gendena. I heard they’re sending those kinds of proposals all over. You’re not obliged to reply to them though. Someone probably did already.”

“Oh is that so? Well, that’s all,” Shownu dismissively says.

“I actually came here to tell you something.”

Shownu just looks at him, a signal for Wonho to continue.

“I’m afraid we have a problem. The Banlidiche family seems like they have a traitor. All the documents about our joint gambling house in the second district is gone.”

“That really is a problem. Do they have an idea on who is this traitor is.”

“Not at all.”

“That’s a bigger problem.”

“What do we do now?”

Shownu thinks for a moment until he suddenly gets an idea.

“Well, we have someone who could sniff out clues.”

Wonho smiles.

“Of course of course. How could I forget? I’ll go talk to him.”

Wonho is out of the door before Shownu could reply, but not even a minute later he peaks in the doorway.

“He hates the term sniff out, by the way. It sounds like he’s a dog.”

Shownu laughs.

WONHO

Co-founder of the family. He gave the role of the boss to Shownu because he believes he can’t handle that much power and responsibility, but he was willing to assist Shownu thus he became an underboss. He is the one who puts all of Shownu’s decisions into actions. He controls all their dealings, business, and operations. He is often teased by the original members except for Shownu but they also love and respect him as much as Shownu.

Wonho gets out of Shownu’s office and goes down the stairs. He goes straight to the kitchen to find who he’s looking for but is surprised when he does not find him there. He reaches for his phone to call him but completely forgot it when he saw the text message he received.

Eyey, heard Banlidiche’s got a snake and this one is sliii-ck. Second district already lost a million. Whatchu. whatchu gonna do?~

“Damn it,” he mutters in frustration and dials the sender’s number.

“Hello hello baby, you called I can’t hear a thing,” a voice from the other line answers.

“Min. This is no time to be joking around.”

“I really can’t hear anything. The house is so noisy. Lemme go outside first”

“Says the one who seemed like he swallowed a speaker.”

“I’m outside now. And I heard that but I won’t get mad because there are other things to worry about.”

“What was that text all about Min?”

“Exactly as I put it. This house already lost a million.”

“Would you care to elaborate?”

“Well, some group waltz in and they suddenly beat all the bets and took our money.”

“Are they still there?”

“Yup, they’re still taking some more.”

“Shit. Keep an eye on them. I’ll send in our boys now.”

“Wait. I don’t think the snake is here. You wouldn’t think that snake would go here immediately after his snakery right?”

“Snakery? Is that even a word?”

“Right?” Minhyuk emphasizes the word.

“Right,” Wonho concededly replies.

“Right,” Minhyuk repeats. “So I think the people here are his accomplices somehow. But we don’t want to act yet because they’ll know it’s trouble when we walk in~ and might blow our chances.”

“You’re right. But keep an eye for them anyway.”

“‘Kay. Say hi to daddy Shownu for me. His baby misses him.”

“Too much information Minhyuk. Why don’t you tell him that yourself.”

“Because I want him to miss me too.”

Wonho rolls his eyes.

“Whatever Minhyuk. Just do your job.”

MIHYUK

Minhyuk’s hair might not be big but he knows everything about everyone. He likes to get random jobs everywhere to get information about anything even if it doesn’t concern their family. But he believes that any information is relevant. His way of getting information is a bit odd for others but he enjoys it because he gets to experiences different jobs and encounters different people. He also thinks that his way is unsuspicious and that no one would suspect him as a member of a mafia. People often take him as another gossiper but tend to trust him so easily because of his angelic face. He loves his members a lot though he loves Shownu a little bit more. 

Minhyuk puts his phone down and places it inside his pocket. He heads for the gambling table where their target is playing poker. He observes them for a moment and notices that the player’s card seemed a little thicker than the normal cards.

Double huh.

He moves from the opponent’s side to the target’s and slowly approaches one of his companions, a woman wearing a knee length red dress.

“I was wondering what the crowd was all about and damn he’s good,” he starts. “Is he your husband? You must be getting luxuries.”

The woman looks at their suspiciously but then he smiles and he sees the woman soften.

“Oh no no. I’m just his glorified secretary.”

“Why glorified?”

“I’m just another of one of his side girls. Capos like him get all the girls in the district since the bosses and under bosses are too busy making money.”

Bingo. But he still gotta play it cool.

He pretends to look confused and the woman laughs.

“Ah sorry. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh okay. But he’s not your husband?”

“No.”

He stays for a few moments as not to seems suspicious, he makes comments every now and then to see if the woman can give any more information but when he feels like there isn’t anymore the woman can provide, he excuses himself telling her that he must get back to his cleaning job.

He decides to head back to the headquarters when his phone rings. He groans in frustration when he sees the caller ID.

Looks like I won’t be getting in daddy’s arms anytime soon.

“What?” he answers.

“I heard what happened. Wonho told me to call you.”

“Yeah. Looks like one of Bandiliche’s capo built a little gang. You heading there?”

“Yup. Are you still in the house?”

“Uh huh. I suppose Wonho told you to tell me to not leave yet.”

“He indeed did.”

Minhyuk groans in frustration again.

“Calm down Minhyuk. You’ll see Shownu soon. We’ll make this quick okay?”

“Fine. But you’ll have to bake me cupcakes when you get home,” Minhyuk whines.

“Alright alright.”

“Yes! I love you Kihyunnie.”

KIHYUN

Kihyun was a former detective who quit his job after he found out about the corruption within his department. He joined the Montella family thinking that he might as well do it in the right place if he’s going to do dirty work. He is in charge of investigating issues within the family like unsupervised assassination, stolen money from their stash, and unusual activities in their business.

Kihyun sits on the passenger seat of their car, listening to some random song the driver put on while looking at the passing scenes outside the window.

“We’re here sir,” he hears the driver say.

Kihyun immediately got out of the car and entered the massive building the car stopped in front of. A guy in black welcomes him and leads him to an office. He sees a man lying on the couch with a book covering his face when he enters the office.

“You may go now,” the man says to the guy in black.

When the guy is out the door the man sits up and looks at Kihyun.

“I’m surprised you have time to laze around when we’re almost going bankrupt,” Kihyun says to the man.

“Bullshit. One gambling house won’t affect our profits. Both of our profits. Your underboss just likes overreacting,” the man replies.

“Fair point. But I’ll have you know that Wonho doesn’t like overreacting. He just wants to be safe than sorry. Unlike you, Yoongi,” Kihyun fires

“Well do I have to apologize for being laid back Kihyun?” Yoongi fires back.

“Now now, no need to be so aggressive. I only came here to do my job,” Kihyun says.

Yoongi just stares at him for a while before his stoic face breaks into a smile. Kihyun smiles back. Yoongi stands up from the couch and leads Kihyun outside.

“So, how’s it going on your side?” Kihyun asks.

“Seokjin is still working on the CCTVs but seems like this one’s very clever. Hoseok is also asking around.”

“Uh huh. You should really work on the supervision on your capos. They could strike any time.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes at him.

“Right. So here’s the room that the document was stored,” He leads Kihyun in a room full of shelves. “And here’s the where the document was.” He points to a middle shelf.

Kihyun goes to the shelf and opens it. He sees that there is an evident blank space between the two documents. He looks around the room some more and sees a photocopying machine.

“You really shouldn’t store a photo copying machine inside a room full of confidential documents.”

“You think we don’t know that? That one’s already busted. Some idiot used it incorrectly and…”

Yoongi trailed off when he sees Kihyun looking at him with absolute horror.

“What?” Yoongi asks him.

“Yoongi why?” Kihyun says before rushing to the photocopying machine.

“Shit. Don’t tell me…”

“That idiot who busted this was no idiot. He stole another document and photo copied the gambling documents to cover it up.”

“Fuck!”

Kihyun suddenly started opening random shelves and going through documents.

“What are you doing?” Yoongi asks

“Finding the original document for the gambling house. He should have placed it in whatever document he stole as a replacement.”

Yoongi nods before helping Kihyun to find the said documents. After a few minutes of scouring and rummaging. Yoongi suddenly cursed out loud.

“Shit!”

“Have you found it?”

“Yes, and it’s the documents for the imprisonment and release of the Raveeno family’s boss”

“Oh my god. Why would you keep a document for release?”

“Well, you never know when you’re gonna be needing them.”

Yoongi’s phone rang before Kihyun could say anything.

Kihyun watches as Yoongi’s facial expression morphed from worried to glee. He puts the phone down and smiles at Kihyun.

“We found the man,”

“Well I supposed our job here is done?”

“C'mon this is a whole family we’re dealing with. And don’t you want to create destruction together? Like old times? The world would love to see your Beauty and Beast and our Three Musketeers together again.”

Kihyun chuckles. “Go talk to Shownu then.”

HYUNGWON

Hyungwon is part of the assassination unit called “The Beauty and the Beast” His style of assassination is the quiet assassination wherein he charms his target and lures them to their doom. The family sends in Hyungwon for assassinations that is a one-person target.

Hyungwon enters the bar and scans the place for his target, the son and heir to a major conglomerate in Seoul. He sees him sitting on one of the stools on the counter. He makes his way to the counter and sits three stools away from his target. He motions for the bartender to get his drink serve while observing his target. Hyungwon picks up that he isn’t much of a heavy drinker and only chooses light drinks. He motions for the bartender again and tells him to make the strongest drink for his target. Once done, the bartender gives the drink to the heir. When he confusedly looks at the bartender, the bartender points to Hyungwon.

The conglomerate’s son looks at him and Hyungwon gives a smile before standing up and sitting directly beside him.

“You look like you could use some strong punch. You look a little down,” he starts.

He looks at Hyungwon, baffled, and speaks.

“I’m sorry. But I don’t swing that way.”

Hyungwon laughs.

“Really now. A guy offers you a drink and you think he’s trying to hit on you. That’s a little bit judgemental of you.”

The guy’s face turns red, clearly flustered by Hyungwon’s comment.

“I didn’t mean to give any offense. It’s just…”

“Just?”

“No. Nevermind. But I can’t drink this.”

“Awww… I thought you didn’t mean to give any offense. You’re giving one now. An offer being rejected is a sign of offense right?”

He looks at Hyungwon one more time and Hyungwon looks back at him, he moves a little closer to his target all the while looking at him in the eyes.

“Please?”

The heir pulls back from the proximity and finally drinks the drink Hyungwon offered him. Hyungwon smiles and engages him into a conversation, roping his target to drink more. Once Hyungwon was sure that the heir is completely drunk, he offers a ride back home to which his target unconciously agreed to. Hyungwon drives him to his apartment and fishes out the keys from his pockets. He carried the conglomerate’s son to his room and lays him in bed.

Well, don’t want to make this messy.

He pulls out a small bottle from pocket, uncaps the bottle, and pours the liquid in to his target’s mouth.

“Sweet dreams.”

On his way back to his own apartment, his phone starts to ring.

“What is it?” he asks the caller.

“Where are you?”

“On my way back to my place. Why?”

“The family needs their Beauty. We have some enemies to eliminate.”

“I literally just finished a job Wonho. I just want to sleep and rest forever.”

“This one’s isn’t a job. It’s a family obligation.”

Hyungwon sighs in resignation.

JOOHEON

“The Beast” in the Montella’s assassination unit. Unlike Hyungwon, Jooheon likes to go loud. Under The Beauty and The Beast is a group Jooheon formed called MonX. They are a group of trained assassins under Jooheon’s wing and assists Jooheon in his assissnations. The family assigns Jooheon and the MonX to do assassination that involves a lot of people like government parties or other families.

Jooheon and the MonX wait in front of the gambling house for Minhyuk’s signal. He was told that Minhyuk is to make everyone vacate the house except for the snake’s accomplices. Minhyuk would then give Jooheon the signal for his group to storm the place and put the snake’s accomplices in their right places.

Why is he taking so long?

Jooheon apparently spoke too soon because the moment he finished the thought the house’s doors suddenly opened and people are coming outside.

What the fuck?

“Do we go now, boss?” One of the MonX says.

“Wait,”

He sees Minhyuk coming out as well and heading towards them.

“Well? What are you waiting for?” Minhyuk asks him when he gets to them.

“What are you doing? The way you’re vacating people is so obvious.”

“Heonie. Whatever way I vacate people will be obvious because the place will become empty as fuck and they will notice that they’re the only ones inside. There was really no way to be inconspicuous y'know.”

“What did you do then?”

“Led them to a private room. Told them that the "master player,” he quotes in the air, “wants to play with them.”

“And they believed you just like that?”

“I’m not a member of this family for nothing Heon.”

Jooheon smiles at him.

“You’re right.”

He looks at his group, “Let’s do this boys”

They storm the building and heads straight towards the private room and immediately began their onslaught. Jooheon realizes something after the room is all red.

“Damn. I forgot to leave one of them to ask where the snake is.”

“Don’t worry,” Minhyuk assures him. “Our baby will handle it.”

CHANGKYUN

Changkyun is the hacker of the group who is in charge of all things machine related, from fabricating a CCTV record to tracking down a person, he could do it just be sitting in front of his computer. He is the youngest in the family so the members spoil him to death.

Changkyun stares at his computer screen, watching red dots appear all over it. He enters a code on his keyboard and presses enter and the red dots begin to disappear one by one.

Now he just needs to wait.

He hears a knock on his door and stands up from his chair to open it. He is greeted by a smiling Kihyun holding up a lunchbox.

“Hyung,” he greets

“How is it going Kyunnie?”

“I managed to trace all the coordinates Jin-hyung sent me for all the CCTVs that registered the guy’s face. I’m just waiting for the coordinates of the CCTV the guy’s face recently registered to.”

“Huh. Those red dots are the CCTVs?”

“Yep.”

Kihyun looks at the huge screen then back at Changkyun.

“You must be hungry this has been a long day. Minhyuk just got back from the house with Jooheon and made me bake cupcakes. Now everyone is having a tea party down stairs.”

“I’d like to join but my job isn’t done.”

“I know that’s why I bought you some cupcakes and join you.”

“You’re the best hyung ever.”

“I know.”

The two of them silently sit in front of the computer screen and watch as the red dot disappear. Changkyun hurriedly swallowed his cupcake when the last dot disappeared, leaving only one. Kihyun practically run out the room, probably to call the other guys.

He enters a few more codes to his keyboard and clicks a few items on his screen and just like that, he’s done.

Six other guys entered the room moments after the manage to pinpoint the location.

“Where is it?” Shownu asks

“Fourth district, block seven, number 9,” he answers.

“Wonho,” he hears Shownu says. “Contact the Bandiliche family. Time to get those snakes taste our venoms.”

[eloarei]

Thank goodness for self-indulgent slapdash babbling fics about your OCs, eh? Here, have an “Alien Anthem” story from Snake’s point of view. It might not make a lot of sense, but it let me achieve my word count for the day.  2000 words (of an alien stalking the ship’s new human inhabitant) under the cut: 

It had never seen anything like this creature. Well, except for the hundreds of others of its species that the crew was slowly watching die out, killed off by various environmental hazards or eaten by their mutated brethren.  But it'd never seen one up close or in person. The creature was so beautiful, so unique, and so full of energy. It was so creative too, and so intelligent. It knew so many things, not just about itself, but about others. The creature liked to be called 'Bren', or 'he'; 'it' was wrong. He, Bren, also told the crew that they were supposed to be called 'he's and 'she's and names like 'Ant' and 'Ling', things none of them had known before. Bren didn't know if he should call it a 'he' or a 'she' or even a 'they' like the Greys sometimes used, but he did know that its name was Snake. Snake (who didn't know it was called Snake at the time) stayed back when the Greys went to go collect Bren from the Earth, and then watched from one of the video screens as the human was taken to his new home. It waited a little while for the Greys to leave the human alone and go back to their jobs, and then it invited itself in. Bren's home was very nice! Not a lot of rock, and almost no water at all, but it had a good amount of nice, dry dirt, and quite a lot of trees. And the trees were very dry as well, with rough bark and flat green leaves. The structure in the middle was very enclosed, but there were multiple entry points. Inside the 'house', it was rather dark. No plants, no phosphorescent moss. It did have several soft pieces of furniture-- very odd, but luxuriously comfortable. The first was in the bigger center room, the one with the flat stone-pile in the wall, and the second was in the room where the Greys had put Bren; the human was sleeping upon it. Snake approached him. Furtively, it touched his face. Soft, a little moss-like-- malleable and strong, Snake thought. As it had intuited, the human would likely make very hardy babies. It could feel its inside adjusting to the new information already, feel the first speckles of pale brown-pink begin to prick at its skin-- though it would take a lot more contact than that to erase the red it was born with or the bits of Grey silver it had picked up since joining the crew. But that was okay. Snake was not in a hurry to breed. Yes, it could feel the time was looming, but not significantly faster or closer than it had over the past year. It could probably hold off until it had had the chance to assimilate enough of the human's DNA to produce a viable batch of children. And if the process took too long, perhaps they could speed it up by engaging in the reproductive methods of the Earth creatures; to the best of Snake's understanding, that provided quite a lot of extended contact between the soft absorbent parts of both parties. It was something to think about later, though. Bren was moving around a bit now, apparently just shy of waking. Snake withdrew its hands from Bren's soft face and left to go observe the human from a safer distance; as much as it was fairly sure it liked the human, it thought he was prefer to have some time by himself. Besides, it needed to get outside the habitat in order to unlock the doors. (The access tunnels were unlocked, but they were supposed to be a secret, and it didn't assume Bren would find then-- not right away, at least.) Snake watched from outside, through any of the numerous observation screens it could hack into, as Bren woke and made a fuss about the situation, and when Bren approached the door to the outside, Snake unlocked it for him, and retreated to continue watching as Bren ran down the halls. What a fast creature, with his strong, steady footsteps! Snake imagined its babies having such a stride. Would they have hair, too? Or those funny protrusions the humans had coming from their faces? It could only guess. The Greys apprehended Bren rather quickly and chattered at him in their garbled version of his language until he seemed to understand the situation he'd found himself in and allowed them to lead him back to his new home. He and the Greys talked for a while, and Snake thought maybe it would invite itself in, now that it knew Bren had become accustomed to non-humans. But before it could finish unlocking the door, it was stopped by the angry Grey-- the 'doctor'. “So you're the cause of the trouble, hmm? I should have known. You should stay in your habitat when we have a new member, or you are putting yourself at risk of catching whatever diseases it has brought on board with it. And don't even think about going in there just yet! Go. Go home. I'll be monitoring you!” Snake huffed at the Grey but did as told. It wasn't as if the Greys could (or would, at least) do anything to harm or even inconvenience it, but it didn't like to be on the receiving end of those glares that this particular one liked to give out. So for the time being, it went home to its damp, rocky habitat. The place was only the second home Snake had ever known, and it liked it well enough. It was a far cry from the tall and deep volcano innards it had lived in before; the pool the Greys had given it was only three times as deep as Snake was long-- quite small! But it was comfortable, with its ferns and its soft mud, and it didn't resent having to stay there for a while. Better, probably, to give Bren some time to adjust to the ship and the Greys. (They were, after all, very strange.) It was the next day that it finally got to meet Bren. The human seemed very apprehensive of it, when they came across each other during his tour of the ship's control room. “What's with the Snake?” he asked, eyeing it warily. “Survivor from before planet!” they Grey which Bren had taken to calling Ling said. 'She' (as appointed by Bren) gestured at it, moderately fond. “Just like you, the only of its kind! Unique and rare specimen we save. As I say before, that is purpose of this vessel. Save last, study planet when empty.” Bren seemed skeptical. “And what did you find on this thing's planet?” “Oh, plant. Mineral. Not much. All life slowly dying from poisons. Naturally occurring! But not compatible with animals. This reptilian would have starved.” “Uh huh,” Bren said, not very impressed, apparently. “Yeah, you guys are real magnanimous people, aren't you?” That was a word Ling had clearly not yet heard (and maybe Bren had used it on purpose for that reason), so it shut down their conversation rather quickly. It wasn't much of an introduction, but Snake figured it would do. At least now Bren was familiar with it, and maybe wouldn't be frightened if it came to visit him in his home. That, as a guess, was only half correct. Bren was, in fact, quite frightened when Snake appeared “out of nowhere”, but only for a short moment. He quickly calmed and then became curious how it had gotten into his house to begin with. “This,” Snake said, and demonstrated its skill in picking locks, on the front door which Bren had kept locked apparently out of habit. Instead of being impressed by its skill, Bren was again momentarily frightened-- surprised or shocked were the words he would use-- when Snake's thin arms emerged from under its smooth plating. “You have hands!” Bren said, staring at them. “Okay. I wasn't expecting that. And you can talk too? Geez. Well, I guess you are an alien. I don't know what I was expecting.” Glad to have impressed Bren in some way or another, Snake opened its lower set of plates as well, and revealing its second pair of limbs-- identical to the top two, just lower. “More hands,” it said, wiggling them at him. “Huh. So I guess you're really more of a Lizard than a Snake,” Bren suggested, but Snake didn't like that. “I Snake,” it told him. “You say.” Bren bit his lip as he stared at Snake. “Yeah, I guess I did say that.” Ultimately, Bren was impressed with Snake's lock picking and hacking skills, and they decided to go on an adventure together-- not because either of them were trying to get out (the ship was orbiting Earth, far too high in the sky to land safely if you jumped out, Snake was sure) but because Bren was feeling restless and wanted to press his boundaries-- which was one of Snake's very favorite hobbies. The Greys, who watched everything they did, talked to them over the ship's speakers when they realized the two of them were bypassing door locks instead of just asking for the doors to be opened. “You are not prison, Bren!” Ling said, when they finally managed to get her to come find and talk to him. “We open doors for you! Any door, any time! You not need reptilian for open doors.” She narrowed her eyes at Snake. “How even you do, reptilian?” (Snake didn't bother answering. It usually didn't.) Neither of them were in any trouble, but since they'd been found out they decided to head back to Bren's home, done with adventuring for the day. “Those are some pretty clever fingers you have there,” Bren said, by way of compliment. Snake didn't know quite what he meant by that, but it was pretty sure that meant Bren approved of its hands (that was what 'fingers' meant, right? The little wiggly bits on hands?), so it reached out and laced their hands together-- one of its, and one of Bren's. Bren seemed surprised and a little uneasy, but he didn't pull back. “Uh, okay,” he said, and then proceeded to go about his business (which mostly consisted of grabbing one of the Earth books the Greys had stocked his house with, and then sitting on the couch to browse through it) with Snake's hand twined up in his own. He loosened his fingers at odd intervals to see if maybe Snake was ready to let go, but didn't force it. A few hours passed, with Snake mostly peering over Bren's shoulder as he read (it didn't have a clue what the book was for, but Bren seemed to enjoy staring at it, so Snake did the same, figuring it couldn't understand something it wasn't familiar with), and Bren mostly reading. By the time Bren finally did break away from Snake and excuse himself to go find something to eat in his weirdly clean kitchen, Snake felt full and warm and different on the inside. Satisfied, it went back home to get some food itself and take a nap. In a little nest of mud, dozing, it stretched its plates and looked down at the soft skin under the middle-most plating-- and there it was. Among the red and the plentiful silver freckles, its very first splotch of pale brown-pink. Not enough for babies, but a good first step. Maybe tomorrow it would get another one. xXx (More about these characters in my Alien Anthem tag.) 

[impalasutra]

CYOSTODA Part 5: Y/N Picks Truth

Characters: Dean, Leah, Sam and Reader (Leah x Reader, Sam x Reader, Leah x Dean) Location: Motel room, Crappsville, USA. Word Count: 5127 (not even a little bit sorry)

Summary: The three of you celebrate the 1 year anniversary of you joining the Winchesters, and not dying, with fun and games.

Warnings: cursing, smut - kissing (f/f; m/f), light bondage, lots of teasing, using panties as gags, oral sex (f/f; m/f; male and female receiving), spanking, public nudity, some not so safe practices (under negotiated play; leaving a tied person alone), tickling, dirty talk, dom/sub undertones (ok, maybe a little more than UNDERtones…), penetrative sex

A/N: This is one of the many conclusions you can reach in reading the Choose Your Own Supernatural Truth or Dare Adventure!  This was my third time writing for it with the 2 smuttier parts posted here and one more tame part getting posted at @revwinchester.  I hope you’ve enjoyed your journey and that the ride has been… satisfying ;)  This is a “truth” chapter but prepare yourself for plenty of smut below the cut.

Check out the Master List here

Or follow this thread to end up here!

Part 1:  The Set Up by @littlegreenplasticsoldier Part 2:  Dean Picks Dare by @eyes-of-a-disney-princess Part 3:  Leah Picks Dare by @impalasutra Part 4: Sam picks Truth by @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog

CYOSTODA Part 5 - Y/N Picks Truth

“Truth or dare, Y/N?” Sam murmured.

You were so lost in Sam that you weren’t even sure that you answered him.  But apparently you had, though his next question didn’t really help you decide if you’d chosen truth or dare.  

His breath danced hotly across your ear as he leaned in and whispered, “Do you want me to show you what I did?”  Sam pulled his face back to look at you and his pupils were blown wide with lust.  You were pretty sure that your eyes were doing the same thing but Sam was still a step ahead of you because he could at least form words.

When you tried to reply, your tongue decided not to function.  Your breath came in gasps as you looked up at the younger Winchester with wide eyes and nodded.

“What did you ask her?” Dean demanded.

His voice pulled you from your daze and you shifted slightly, Leah’s hand fell from your leg but Sam’s arms circled your waist and pulled you onto his lap, his erection pressing against your center through his and  your pants.  

“You don’t wanna know,” Sam told his brother.

Dean scoffed but, looking at the two of you, took Sam’s words at their face value.  “Then it doesn’t count, ask her another question.”

Sam looked at his brother and then turned to you with a gleam in his eye.  “Tell us, Y/N, what’s the kinkiest thing you’ve ever done?”  Sam was turning your words back on you and you felt your cheeks flush even brighter as a new wave of arousal coursed through your body at the thought of some of your past exploits.  

You cleared your throat, managing to find your voice - and your sass - in the process.  “You mean kinkier than trading underwear and then making out with a woman who I’d just met in a motel bathroom?” you asked innocently, your eyes still locked on Sam’s face.

You hadn’t thought it was possible but Sam’s pupils dilated even further at your admission.  He cleared his throat and blinked a few times before responding.  “I mean, if you’ve got a kinkier story than that, you’d have to tell us.  Rules are rules,” Sam said, his voice thick.  

You thought about the question for a minute and came up with two possible stories to tell the group.  “Hmmm,” you hummed, trying to build the tension in the room even higher.  You rocked on Sam’s lap a little, pressing your chest up against his as you leaned forward and you heard a distinct hitch in his breath.  “I’ve got two that I can think of… which one should I tell?”

“You could tell us both,” Leah suggested.  You looked over your shoulder towards her and caught the sultry gleam that shone in her eye.  She was most definitely enjoying herself.

You watched as Dean moved across the floor and slid in behind her.  His legs spread wide enough for Leah to fit between them and his arm snaked around her waist as she leaned back against his chest.  You smiled at the pair; the certainly made a cute couple.  Looking at them, you had an idea.

“Well, one is easy enough to tell but the other… it’s a more involved story,” you baited the hook.  “It might be easier to show, you know?” You could tell that you had both the Winchesters and Leah eating out of the palm of your hand.

“Show… show is good,” Dean told you, the lust bleeding into his voice as well, and Leah nodded her head.

“OK, show and tell, I can do that,” you replied.  “Let’s start with tell, though.”  You gulped a little knowing what you were about to reveal.  It wasn’t overly kinky, per se, certainly not more so than Sam’s story had been, but you weren’t positive how Dean would react to it.

“About three months ago we wrapped up that inc…” Your eyes caught Leah’s and you quickly shifted the words you used to describe the case, “When we wrapped that case in Pittsburgh.”  You had been hunting a incubus; it had been a rough case and you knew Sam and Dean remembered it well.  Leah, however, had no idea bout the crap the three of you saw on a daily basis and, even in your inebriated state, you had no intention of destroying her innocence.  At least, not that particular area of innocence.

“Finished a case?  What, are you guys like cops or something?” Leah asked and you heard Dean chuckle.

You decided to press forward with your story, trusting Dean to field Leah’s question if your tale didn’t distract her enough.  “Tensions were high after that one and we were all pretty on edge,” it was an understatement, especially in your case.  Having thought you were hunting a succubus, you had been the one doing the tracking and leg work and you ended up falling under its spell.  It had appeared in Sam’s form, a secret you planned to take with you to the grave.

“So, we all hopped into the car afterwards and I was still buzzing.  I couldn’t really sit still in the back seat.  You were driving, Dean, and Sam, you were occupied with whatever podcast you were listening to so I put my jacket over my lap and went to sleep.”

“I remember that,” Sam interrupted.  “You rarely sleep in the car but you passed out really quickly on that ride.”

You turned to look at Sam, the flush already creeping into your cheeks.  “Yeah, I, uh, I wasn’t asleep,” you admitted quietly.  “I kind of, you know, took the edge off.  It felt so, I don’t know, naughty.  I had to keep quiet if I didn’t want you two to figure out what was going on back there.”

“Wait… you were… in the back of my… while we were…” Dean stuttered and you giggled at his reaction, glad that he seemed more disappointed that he had missed the show than angry that you had masturbated in his car.    

Dean was still gaping when Sam spoke up.  “So, that was tell… I think you mentioned something about a show?”

“I did, didn’t I,” you replied, sliding off of Sam’s lap and gracefully getting to your feet, or as gracefully as possible considering how much alcohol you had drunk.  You extended a hand to Leah and helped her up, too.  “Will you help me with this little demonstration?” you asked her.

Leah nodded and a sultry smile graced her lips.  

“Sam, Dean, will you guys grab me your ties?  I need them for this,” you shared.  The boys nodded, obviously thinking they knew where this was going since you had asked Leah for help but really not having any idea.  While the Winchesters dug through their bags for you, you explained to Leah what you were about to share with the group.  She giggled and agreed to be a part of it, all of it, and when Sam and Dean handed you their ties, she looked at the strips of fabric and commented on how excited she was.

“This is going to be fun,” she said, licking her lips and looking you up and down before turning to Dean and looking at him like she wanted to devour him.

“You guys grab a seat on the beds; get comfortable” you instructed and Sam and Dean complied, the older Winchester even pulling off his shirt as you put one of the ties on each of the beds.  “So, I was dating this guy, Josh, and he wanted to have a threesome.  I wasn’t sure if I was really into the idea,” you told everyone and Dean scoffed.  “Josh was really pushy and I hated it.  I think I knew deep down that the relationship wasn’t going to go anywhere but I was still trying to save it or change him or whatever, so, eventually, I agreed.”

You straddled Sam’s lap and watched as Leah did the same to Dean while you continued talking.  “I told him that we could give it a try if he would let me set the rules.  He was hesitant at first but, in the end he said ‘yes.’”  You pressed a kiss to Sam’s lips and pushed him back onto the bed.  “So, I told him to lay down on his back with his arms above his head and when he did, I started kissing him.”  You did what you said, kissing Sam deeply and trusting that Leah was doing the same with Dean.  You ran your hands up Sam’s arms and clasped your hands with his, intertwining your fingers.  After a few moments, you released one of Sam’s hands and reached for the tie you had tossed next to him on the bed.  You brought it up and wound it around his wrists before securing it to the headboard.  You knew it wasn’t your best knot work and you just hoped that Sam and Dean would play along with you and Leah.

You pulled away from Sam and sat back, watching as he gave an experimental tug at his bonds.  He knew he could get out of it but he wasn’t trying and for that, you were grateful.  “I surprised Josh and tied his hands above his head, just as a reminder that this was all on my terms.  And then the girl and I had a little fun.”  

You stood up and Leah did the same, approaching you with a sexy smile on her face.  You stood between the beds, between Sam and Dean, and began to kiss again.  Leah’s hands moved quickly to the button of your jeans and you shimmied out of your pants once she had opened them up.  Both of you were practically naked, kissing and touching one another’s bodies while the two men watched.  You finally broke the kiss but kept your hands on Leah’s hips, your fingers dancing along the waistband of her - or, really, your - panties.  

“Despite the fact that he had been told in no uncertain terms that he would not be in charge, Josh kept trying to tell us what to do,” you said, your voice heavy with lust, “so I took off her panties,” you slid Leah’s underwear down her legs and she repeated the action on you, both of you stepping out of the garments and picking up the pair the other had been wearing, “and I used them as a reminder for him to stay quiet.”  You knew the panties you were wearing were already wet and you could tell the pair in your hands had quite the damp spot, too.  You smiled down at Sam as you approached his bound form.  He was still dressed and you were now completely naked but you still felt like you had all the power.  His eyes were locked on you and when his lips parted for his tongue to poke through, you pushed a finger into his mouth and pulled his jaws apart.  You stuffed the panties Leah had been wearing into Sam’s mouth, causing the man to groan.  

Having watched you, Leah turned to Dean.  “Open your mouth for me?” she asked him sweetly.  Dean complied without questioning and soon had a pair of panties in his mouth, too.  

“Once Josh couldn’t speak anymore, she and I really had some fun with him,” you explained, “and with each other.  We kissed and touched some more and she slid down to her knees.”  

Leah did what you were narrating while Sam and Dean watched on.  She was eye level with your pussy and she licked her lips in anticipation.  Leah pulled at your ankles, silently asking you to spread your legs, so you did.  Her tongue swept through your folds and started working little circles around your clit.

“It was the first time a girl went down on me,” you whispered, “and, oh God, Leah is so much better.”  You moaned your pleasure into the room and out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sam pulling at the tie that was holding his wrists in place.  “Josh wanted to join in so badly but,” you paused and practically squeaked as Leah added her fingers to the mix, “...but he just had to lay there and watch.”

Your hands found Leah’s hair and your pants and moans filled the room for another minute or so.  You could feel the coil tightening deep within you but before you could come undone, you stepped away from Leah, an involuntary groan leaving your lips.  “The girl that night didn’t make me come, she couldn’t figure out how,” you explained.  “Leah definitely wasn’t having that issue,” you assured the boys.  You helped Leah to her feet and kissed her, groaning at the taste of yourself in her mouth as your hands roamed her body.  

You broke apart and turned to where sam was lying, his arms still above his head.  Leah moved toward the bed where Dean was bound.  “Are you guys cool with this?” you asked, not wanting to push anyone too far.  “I mean, with your brother in the room on the next bed?”

Sam and Dean tuned to each other and caught one another’s eye.  Sam was smirking and Dean raised his eyebrows at his brother.  They were having one of those silent conversations.  Even after a year of traveling and hunting with them, you still hadn’t been able to decipher any of the language.  Without any warning, Sam sprang up from the bed and threw you over his shoulder.  He pulled your panties out of his mouth and dropped them on the floor as he began to speak.

“Actually, I think you and I are gonna head to Leah’s room,” Sam announced, smacking his huge palm down onto your bare ass.

You yelped and squirmed, making Sam laugh at your predicament.  He spanked you again, this time drawing a moan from you as he collected the tie he had apparently escaped from and then carried you into the bathroom.  Sam fished Leah’s room key from her jeans pocket and made his way to the door.

As the reality of your situation hit you you began to struggle again  Sam was about to carry you outside, over his shoulder, completely nude, to another motel room.  You kicked your legs and squirmed around.  “Put me down!” you squealed as Sam reached for the door handle.  “Sammy, don’t you… mmmmmmh…”

Sam distracted you with two more sharp smacks to the meat of your ass and he opened the door, stepping out into the cool night air.  The last thing you saw before the door closed behind you was Leah preparing to suck off Dean, who was still tied to the bed.

“You might want to keep it down out here, Y/N,” Sam instructed you, “unless you want to draw extra attention to your situation.”  Sam sauntered to Leah’s room, your ass on display for anyone who might happen to step out of their room.  He kept spanking and teasing you on the short walk, trying to elicit more sounds from your body but you kept your lips clamped shut so that only the softest of moans could be heard.  You had never been more humiliated - or more turned on - in your life.

It wasn’t a long trek to Leah’s room, she was right next door, but it felt like ages before Sam unlocked the door and stepped inside.  Once you were in the room and the door was closed, Sam tossed you onto Leah’s king bed and crawled on after you, the fabric of his clothes scraping against your over sensitive skin.  He attacked your mouth and dominated the kiss with his teeth and tongue.  Sam’s hands found yours and he lifted your arms above your head and secured them to the headboard using the tie you had used to bind him earlier.

Sam pulled back and looked down on your naked form.  “It’s my turn, now,” he told you as he got off the bed and went to dht door.  “I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere,” Sam instructed cheekily and, with a wink, he was out the door.

You took the opportunity to test your bonds and realized you were well and truly stuck.  Sam was better at knots to begin with and your fingers were clumsy from the alcohol in your system.  There was nothing to do but wait stretched out and naked on the bed.  From outside, you heard what sounded like a car door or trunk slamming shut and then Sam was back, carrying a small bag.  

Sam put the bag down next to the bed and pulled off his shirt.  He kneeled down and took something out of the bag, tossing it under the bed.  He reached for one of your legs with a wicked glint in his eye and looped a piece of rope around your ankle.  Sam went around to the other side and fished around under the bed for the rope - it must be what he had thrown before, you surmised - and repeated his actions on your other ankle, forcing you to spread your legs and leaving you completely exposed and vulnerable.  You loved it.  You had never shared this particular fantasy with anyone but, somehow, Sam was ticking off all of the boxes.

Sam rose from the floor and placed the bag on the bed next to your hip.  He could access it easily but it was well out of your reach; Sam obviously wasn’t done with it and you wanted to know more than anything what else was in there, what he had in store for you.

Sam cleared his throat and you tore your eyes away from the bag to look at the younger Winchester.  He had settled between your wide spread legs and he was smirking up at you.  “Patience, love,” Sam chuckled, “you’ll find out what’s in there soon enough.”

You whined and pulled at the ropes binding your ankles as Sam’s warm breath fanned over your sex while he spoke.  “You know patience isn’t one of my strong suites, Sam,” you reminded him and he laughed again.  

“Which is exactly why I plan on helping you learn.”  Sam reached into the bag and pulled out a feather.  “We had this in the trunk with our summoning spell ingredients,” he explained, “but I think I’ve got a better use for it.”  Sam held the feather between his pointer finger and thumb and ran it along one of your thighs, up over your stomach, and down your other thigh.  He moved down to the end of the bed and dragged the feather over the sole of one of your feet and then the other, alternating between your feet as he tickled your feet, paying special attention to your soles and toes.  

You moaned at the sensation and your toes curled but there was nothing you could do to escape.  “Sam,” you gasped as he continued tickling and the hunter looked up at you innocently but he didn’t relent.  You giggled as he dragged the feather up your right leg and teased your inner thigh before running the tip along your slit.  It didn’t touch anything but the outermost skin and still you moaned and squirmed.  “Need more, Sam,” you whimpered.

You thought Sam had acquiesced when he brought his mouth to your core but he simply placed a chaste kiss on your lower lips, or as chaste as a kiss can be down there, anyway.  “Patience,” he reminded you before pulling back and dragging the feather up and along your stomach and ribs.  Before long, you were shaking with your giggles and squirming in a fruitless attempt to get away from the feather and Sam’s relentless tickling.  When he moved the feather to your armpit, you shrieked at the sensation.  After what felt like an eternity of torture, Sam moved his attention to your other armpit and you lost control of your vocal chords again.  

“Sam!” you squealed as your giggles escalated to full blown laughter.  But, all at once, the laughter was replaced with a gasping moan as Sam gently ran the tip of the feather across your right nipple.  The sensation shot straight to your core and you would have pressed your thighs together in search of relief if you could. 

Sam switched the feather’s attention to your other breast, once again concentrating on your impossibly hard nipple.  He lowered his head and used his tongue to continue lavishing attention on your right breast, driving you wild.  You bucked your hips as best as you could, connecting with the denim of sam’s jeans as you moaned and threw your head from side to side.  

“Aw, does someone want me to give her cunt some attention?” Sam asked, moving so that your meager thrusts were only met by open air.  

You whined at the loss of contact and nodded, unsure you’d be able to speak.

“Use your words, Y/N.  Do you want me to pay attention to your cunt?”  Sam asked before diving right back in to sucking on one nipple and even gently gripping it in his teeth while teasing the other with that damned feather.  

Shit.  You’d never even imagined Sam would talk like this before but damn if it wasn’t the hottest thing you could ever recall hearing.  “Please, Sam,” you managed.  “Will you please give my… my cunt some attention?”

Sam smiled and pulled away from your breasts.  He shifted down the bed and gave your sex a long look until you were shifting and blushing under his scrutiny.  “I told you, love, patience,” Sam smirked.

After an eon (that was probably only another 30 seconds), you felt the feather brush along your sex again.  This time, though, Sam dragged it lightly across your clit.  You gasped and your back arched at the barely there stimulation; after all the teasing you were dripping wet and so, so sensitive.

Sam pulled the feather across your clit again and the dirtiest sound you had ever heard fell from your mouth.  He pulled the feather back to tease at your folds again, still staring intently at your core.  “So beautiful, so responsive,” he rasped, his voice impossibly deep and husky with lust, “such a pretty pussy.”

You groaned at his words.  “Sam… Sammy, please…”  You weren’t sure what you were asking for but you needed something, anything from this gorgeous man.

Sam pulled his gaze away from your sex and his eyes locked with yours.  His pupils were so wide, you could barely see the beautiful hazel that usually ringed them.  “I’m just doing what you asked, Y/N.  I’m giving your beautiful cunt my undivided attention but, apparently, that’s not enough for you”  Sam smirked as you whimpered at his words and he turned his attention back to your center.  “Ooh, I know, what about this?”

You felt the feather drag a little lower.  Your toes curled and your hands grappled with the tie as you let out a sinful moan.  Sam was using the feather to circle your asshole and the sensations were nearly overwhelming.  “Fuuuuuuuuuck… sssssssshit,” you hissed.

Before long, though, the feather was back on your clit, this time moving in tiny circles, relentlessly dancing across and around your most sensitive spot, never pulling away.  You quickly found yourself on the edge of an orgasm but the feather alone wasn’t enough to push you over.  

Your hips were rocking and you were practically crying with arousal and frustration.  “I… please, Sam, please… I need… Sam... I just… please…”  You were begging, the pleas falling from your lips as he continued to tease.  “Please… Sam, more…” you finally managed.

As if it were the magic word, Sam dove face first into your folds, lapping up your juices.  His tongue ran over your clit once, twice, three times, and you finally exploded.  Screaming so loud you knew Dean and Leah would be able to hear it in the next room.

Sam worked you through your orgasm and when you came down, the feather was back on your clit and, quickly, you were over stimulated and struggling to get away but to no avail.  Sam kept teasing, spurred on by your wordless moans, until you were dripping wet again and back on the verge of coming.  “You want to know the kinkiest thing I’ve ever done?” Sam asked.

He didn’t wait for you to answer, likely knowing you were well beyond words at this point.  “I let a beautiful woman tie me to a bed and, while her panties were stuffed in my mouth, I watched her get eaten out by another girl,” Sam breathed.  “I was so jealous of Leah.”

You groaned at Sam’s admission and his continued ministrations on your clit.

“So jealous I had to escape and kidnap the woman so I could have her all to myself.  I took her to a motel room, tied her to the bed, and got my revenge using only a simple feather,” Sam continued to recap your evening.  “I teased her until she was asking for more using the dirtiest words I had ever heard her say and, even then, she only got the feather on her clit and her tight little asshole until she was begging.  But she begged so nicely that I gave in and made her cum on my tongue and, God, was it good.”

You were already so needy again, ready to beg some more if that’s what it took, but you were hanging onto Sam’s every word.  “Do you want to know what I did next?” he asked.

You nodded and forced your voice to work.  “Yes.”

“I fucked her senseless.”

Sam pulled the feather away and stood, finally removing his jeans.  He reached into the bag again and pulled out a pair of scissors and a condom.  Sam cut the rope that was binding your ankles and then tore open the condom packet and rolled the latex over his erection.

He lined himself up with your entrance and looked to you, a question in his eyes.  After all this, he was still asking your permission and you loved him for it.  You nodded and Sam’s face shifted back to a sexy smirk.  He drove into you in one swift motion, impaling you on his cock.  

You gasped and moaned Sam’s name at the sudden feeling of being so full.

Sam gave you a moment to adjust as he reached up and undid the knots that held your arms above your head.  Immediately your hands flew to his body, the nails of one digging crescent moons into his shoulder, while the other tangled in Sam’s hair and pulled him in for a kiss.  For the second time that night, you tasted yourself on someone else’s tongue.  

You sucked on Sam’s tongue and wrapped your legs around him, digging your heels into his ass and encouraging him to move.  You were already so wound up from his teasing that you knew it wouldn’t take much to push you over the edge again.

As Sam got the hint and began thrusting his hips, your lips left his and began to explore his neck and jaw.  You found an especially sensitive spot in Sam’s pulse point and gave it some extra attention.  You sucked and nipped at Sam’s neck and soon his hips were stuttering.  One of his hands moved to your center and his mouth claimed yours again.  He gently bit down on your lower lip and flicked your clit all at once, causing you to tip over the edge for the second time.  Somehow, Sam managed to hold off his own release until yours was complete and when he emptied himself buried deep inside of you, it triggered your third orgasm of the evening.

After he caught his breath, Sam rolled out of the bed and retrieved a washcloth from the bathroom, disposing of the condom on his way.  He gently cleaned you up before taking care of himself and crawling back into the bed.  Sam reached into the bag one more time and pulled out a bottle of water.  He opened it and helped you to sit, supporting your boneless body as he encouraged you to drink, occasionally stealing sips for himself.  

When the water was gone, you snuggled into Sam’s side and you both fell asleep.  

The next morning, you woke before Sam.  The early morning sun was streaming in through the threadbare curtains and the halo of light made Sam’s sleeping form look so innocent.  Your head hurt and your mouth was dry but, surprisingly, that was the extent of your hangover.  You had drunk way too much to be this lucky but you weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Careful not to wake Sam, you snuck out of the bed and quietly collected his clothes.  You pulled on his shirt and jeans, adjusting his belt so the pants would kind of fit and rolling up the legs so you wouldn’t trip.  You grabbed his underwear from the floor, too, and, as you were about to go back to your own room, you picked up Leah’s bag for good measure.

Luckily, Sam’s room key was in his pocket and you let yourself into your room.  Dean and Leah were still sleeping.  Leah was draped over Dean, whose arms were still stretched and bound above his head.  He was going to be stiff today but you’d put up with his moaning since, if you ever needed ammo against the older Winchester, you could hold this over his head, now.

You quietly dug through your bag for some of your own clothes.  The soft sounds woke on of the rooms occupants, though.  Leah sat up and yawned, stretching as she took in your form.

“What are you wearing?” she asked, her voice still thick with sleep.

You giggled at your naked friend, glad that there was no awkwardness now that the magic of the night and the alcohol had worn off.  “Sam carried me out of here completely naked last night,” you reminded her.  “So I figured I’d repay him the favor this morning.  I hope you don’t mind that I brought your bag in here with me; didn’t want to give him the option to try some of your clothes.”

Leah just laughed at that, making a joke about not having to take the walk of shame in yesterday’s outfit.  “So, you took all of his clothes?” she asked, her voice was hopeful and you realized she still wanted to see Sam naked.

You smiled your most innocent smile.  “I left him his tie.”

That’s the end of the ride folks!  I hope you enjoyed it all!  Head back to the Master List and take another path if you fancy reading some other awesome authors and a completely different sexy story!  Many thanks are owed to @littlegreenplasticsoldier for hosting, wrangling all of the writers, and making this such a fun experience!  

CYOSTODA Crew tag: @winchesterswoonathon, @saenalife, @inkiestdawn, @curliesallovertheplace, @kreborn17, @winchester-writes, @kayteonline, @aprofoundbondwithdean, @moonlitskinwalker, @rizlow1, @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog, @sunriserose1023, @sammit-janet, @revwinchester, @notnaturalanahi, @babypieandwhiskey, @klaineaholic, @winchesterprincessbride, @ilostmyshoe-79, @mamalinda09, @butiaintgonnaloveem, @kittenofdoomage, @deandoesthingstome, @skybinx-blog, @gemini75eeyore, @ive-been-told-that-im-fangirling, @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid

[razieltwelve]

Multiply (Final Rose)

Diana tilted her head to one side. She’d taken Strangles for his usual slither around the park. There were plenty of frogs around, and the river that cut through the park was also home to plenty of fish. There were even a series of ponds that were filled with their own wildlife, so there was lots of food around if Strangles was feeling peckish.

On this particular occasion, though, Strangles had drawn her attention to another grass snake. Now, most people would have struggled to tell a male and female snake apart, but Diana wasn’t most people. She knew immediately that the other grass snake was a female, perhaps a few years younger than her middle-aged snake.

“Oh?” Diana kept her distance as Strangles slithered over to the other snake and postured. It was different from the usual posturing he did whenever they ran into another snake on one of their little jaunts. A younger Diana might have wondered why, but Diana was old enough now to understand that her snake was getting to that point in life when he was considering have children of his own.

After all, her snake had it good. He had his own home. In fact, he had several if she counted his enclosures at home, in her dorm room, and at the lab. He also had steady access to ample food, and he never had to worry about security because if a predator even looked at her snake funny, she was going to kill it. Of course, Strangles was also in good shape. She wasn’t going to let her snake become so pampered that he became unhealthy. Instead, Strangles got frequent trips to the park and other areas to hone his hunting skills, and she’d even invented a simulator program that let him practice against foes of all kinds.

Her snake was a 10/10 snake. He was smart, handsome, rich, and had a great personality. What wasn’t there to love from a snake perspective? Still, she’d keep an eye on him. Grass snakes tended to mate for life, and they could produce quite a few offspring if conditions were right. It would be another decade or so before Strangles reached the end of his life, but the thought him leaving behind descendants was a soothing one.

No snake would ever be able to replace him, but she’d still love any son or daughter he produced. But what would she call them? Strangles Jr might work for the oldest one, but they could have clutches containing as many as 25  eggs. In the wild, not all of them would be able to survive despite grass snakes caring for their young. However, under her protection, she was confident that any snake that hatched would be fine. 

After a great deal more posturing, Strangles and the lady snake went off to the nearest pond to let him demonstrate his prowess. He didn’t disappoint, capturing a frog and a fish in quick succession and presenting them to the other snake for approval. Given how quickly she devoured both, he must have passed that test.

There was more posturing, what sounded like a discussion, and then Strangles slithered over with the other snake. He looked at her expectantly.

“Really?” Diana had always had a sixth sense for what her snake wanted. It wasn’t as easy as communicating with a chocobo. Chocobos could basically use Aura to make themselves clearly understood to those they were close to. Strangles couldn’t do that. Instead, what she got were feeling and emotions. Combined with some genetic templates she’d picked up and developed, however, she could piece together what he wanted. “That quickly? Wow. Things really are simpler for a snake.”

The lady snake, who Diana was already mentally referring to as Mrs Strangles, had apparently agreed to go with him after he had explained his situation and proven himself. Life in the park could be dicey, what with all the cats, dogs, and people wandering around, and for a female grass snake, the most important thing was that the male could provide a safe home that would allow them to raise any young they had in comfort and security.

“Well, I guess that’s that.” Diana reached down to pick up both snakes. Strangles settled into his usual place around her neck like a scarf while the female snake coiled around her left arm, near her shoulder. “But, hey, I got another snake. That’s pretty cool.”

X     X     X

Author’s Notes

One of the key differences between reptiles on Remnant and reptiles on Earth is that almost all reptiles on Remnant care for their young to some extent. Strangles and his mate would likely care for any young they have for at least a few months before sending them on their way. Remnant’s environment can be so hostile that simply releasing young into the wild at birth is a recipe for extinction. In the case of grass snakes on Remnant, they typically mate for life, seeking out areas where it is safe and where food is plentiful and then staying there as long as possible, often for their entire lives. 

Since grass snakes are not venomous, they must instead rely on evasion or intelligence to handle predators. Grass snakes are typically preyed upon by certain species of mammals (e.g., badgers and foxes), so they will actually try to nest in areas where rodents and other smaller mammals are common. Not only do these smaller species provide food but they are also relatively easy prey, meaning the predators that target grass snakes will instead go after them since they are easier to kill than a grass snake.

Much like their Earth counterpart, grass snakes release a substance when caught. This substance is foul-smelling and is a powerful irritant that will often leave predators unable to see or smell properly for hours, possibly even days. As a result, few predators will got after a grass snake if there is easier prey to be had (e.g., mice).

Although grass snakes are seldom kept as pets in Diana’s time, they are generally looked upon positively by farmers, ranchers, and other people who make their living off the land. This is because they deal with vermin and are not harmful to humans or livestock. Sazh has several groups of grass snake’s living on his property, and they are all smart enough to leave chocobo chicks alone, choosing instead to focus on vermin. 

As for Strangles, this is where his descendants come from. Indeed, Strangles has descendants all the way into the distant future, with many of them serving with distinction on farms, ranches, and other such places in the future. 

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