#he then made a sack and put the boys fathers bones in them

[cheshitora]

when she caught me, i was thinking abt writing a horror fic for baji based off the tale of el silbon, or "the whistler"

my mom caught me staring off into space while i was thinking abt baji and she asks me what im thinking abt

[superhero--imagines]

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / This is Part 3! / Part 4 Here!

A/N: I don’t think the poll is over yet, but this one was very clearly going to have the highest percentage, I’ll do the “maybe if we were closer in age” one later though!

If you haven’t already please check out my Batman zine, it’s got so much fanfiction and beautiful art from five different artists! Please check it out, please. I need to find a way to compensate these artists. You can check it out here!

Bruce slumps in his chair, a longing glance spared to the decanter on the bookshelf.

He closes his eyes and wills away the craving. It’s always ten times worse when he wakes up the next day, and he can’t afford feeling worse at this point in his life.

Wasn’t it just yesterday he was twenty years old and he could spend all night playing Bruce Wayne’s party boy image, and be up in three hours feeling none the worse for wear. Now even after nine hours of solid sleep, he wakes up sluggish with an ache in his bones.

I have to be strong.

“Why did you keep her away from us?”

“Who?” he asks absentmindedly, his entire focus still on the brandy.

“(Y/N).” It’s the last name he expected to hear, especially from his oldest son. He looks up, hoping he’s misheard, but the look in Dick’s eyes proves him wrong.

Looks like I’m going to need that drink after all.

He reaches for the decanter, two crystal glasses retrieved from his desk drawer instinctually, glittering on his desk.

“Why are you bringing this up now?” He stalls by taking a sip, feigning casual, like the mention of your name alone didn’t set his heart racing.

“Don’t play this game with me Bruce,” Dick sounds more sad than angry, and it softens him. “Why didn’t you let us see her?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Then start untangling it for me.”

Bruce sighs, taking another sip of his father’s brandy. There’s a million reasons he could tell his son, none of which would be lies entirely, but softer than the truth.

But when he looks up into Dick’s eyes, he can’t bring himself to say any of them. Armed with nothing but liquor at the bottom of his cup, for the first time in four years, after dodging this question from reporters and acclaimed journalists and new paramours, he finally tells the truth.

“Because I didn’t want her to see you.”

A simple, ugly truth. He doesn’t bother looking up to see his sons reaction, he already knows a kind boy like Dick, a boy who’s fully believed his entire life that good prevails, won’t be able to process that his father did something like this. He makes better use of his time by refilling his glass.

Dick slumps in the chair by the time he’s polishing off his second peg, and pouring in his third.

“You did it to punish her?” He can see anger begin to replace shock, and he doesn’t blame him for it, but Bruce is angry enough at himself for the both of them.

“I wanted her to forget we ever existed.” This truth is as kind as it is ugly, and the nuance confuses Bruce even now. But three glasses of brandy affect him in a way that makes his tongue feel lighter and his mind feel free.

“I wanted to give her a potato sack full of money and jewels, and send her far away where no one knew who she was. I wanted her to meet a good partner, someone who would always put her first, and if they decided to extend their family I wanted her to be able to move on without feeling like she left anyone behind.”

“So you wanted her to have a great life, far away from you, and you never wanted to hear anything about it,” Dick’s voice is cold.

Bruce shakes his head. He wanted to hear everything about your new life. What kind of partner you picked. How you spent your days. When you got married. When you had your first child. When you had your second. Everything. And on bad days, he’d close his eyes and let himself imagine it was him standing next to you, that in some alternate universe he made a single different decision that gave him permission to deserve you.

“I was just tired of hurting her,” when you came in to his life, for the first time, he felt like he’s been allowed to have something of his own. Not as Batman, protecting to the city, or Bruce Wayne the mask he carried, but him as a man. But he could never seem to return the reverie you extended to him.

“Do you think she’d ever be able to move on, to live even a semblance of a normal life, if all of you were showing up at her house all bruised and beaten?”

Dick stays quiet now, and Bruce hates himself for having to say it out loud. His son may be an adult in the eyes of the law, but some parts of him are still childlike. After all, Bruce isn’t the only one putting Gotham first.

“I wouldn’t call the way she’s living now normal.” Dick’s been to your penthouse, he’s seen the photo albums full of tabloid clippings and the rare pictures he and his extended family post on social media. He’s seen the journal you keep, hidden on your bookshelf that he mistook for a regular novel during his bi-weekly trips to your place, full of notes on every article and picture and what might be happening behind the scenes to prompt a public appearance like that. Years of deductions and question he could have answered with a single text message a month, but Bruce wouldn’t even allow that.

Dick’s anger grows.

If Bruce had told him he did it to punish you, he’d be angry, but he would understand. Sometimes when you love someone that much, someone who’s too good for you, you grasp at any way to keep them. But this is a million times worse than that.

“If you loved her that much why’d you even let her go?”

Again, another question he wasn’t expecting. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but he doesn’t feel the sharp sting of surprise this time.

“Because sometimes love isn’t enough.”

Dick leaves. Bruce pours another glass, and when he’s sure he’s alone he pulls out his wallet, tugging out the family photo he keeps tucked beneath his black card, turning it over to see your portrait taped on the other side.

The corner of his mouth quirks up.

It was from when you’d both just gotten married, before you were used to upper class etiquette. You complained all morning about having to get ready and wear a bunch of expensive uncomfortable clothes designers had sent in for the article in the Gotham Times, emphasizing how ridiculous opulence like this was when there were so many bigger issues in Gotham.

He’d bought out every copy of the magazine in the city. He still had most of them, tucked away in a box in his closet that became the casket for your relationships. Every now and then he’ll unearth it, just to allow himself to be haunted again by your memory.

But for tonight, just your picture and a glass of brandy is enough.

“You’re so much better at this than I am.”

[doxypsychlean]

Our Blades Are Sharp

Aegon II Targaryen x Bolton!OC, Aemond Targaryen x Bolton!OC

Warnings: Explicit language, death, gore. Nothing out of the ordinary for my beloved Boltons tbh

Thou shan't repost/copy/ translate any of my work or I'll let my inner Ramsay run loose!

English isn't my first language. I don't proofread. I slap commas wherever I feel they're needed.

A/N: So...A really bad idea crawled its way into my skull. Imagine the boys meeting the female version of Ramsay Bolton:) Now imagine some Red Wedding activities going down at the Dreadfort. Ugh, I'm awful...

────────────

Such a beautiful thing. Snowflakes. White and pure. Each one unique, never too close to the one that came before it. The two princes stared at them as they fell to the ground and melted in the pools of blood.

A woman's screams for help tore through the Dreadfort. Aegon looked at his younger brother, then at their father. All three of them were sporting the same expression. Horror. Disgust. Fear. Neither one of the three had ever heard another person plead for death like that before. In fact, the young princes had never heard anyone do it ever.

"What is the meaning of this, Royce?!" Viserys yelled our after their host.

"You see, your Grace, my youngest...She grew up on tales of our ancestors. Some of her favorite were those of the Redarm." Lord Bolton responded with a wolfish grins as he turned a corner. "She takes after him."

The screams got louder as the men walked inside, lord Bolton leading the way. Not long after, they saw it.

There, in the middle of the hall of the Dreadfort, stood a big wooden cross. Big enough for a person to be tied to it.

"Kill me!!" A high-pitched scream came from it.

Both Aegon and Aemond took a step back as they set their eyes on what was once human and now a peeled sack of flesh and bones.

"Serena!" Lord Royce hissed through gritted teeth. "Get this thing out my sight!"

The young girl turned quickly as she spun on her heel. Her dark hair was slicked back in a tight bun, only one loose strand of hair hanging in the middle of her forehead. Her pale eyes bore into those of her father.

"Father! You're back early." A gravely voice came out from between her full, pink lips. "I thought you'd be back in a fortnight."

The way she spoke terrified the two princes that stood behind her father. That surely wasn't the voice of someone that had been skinning a person alive up untill few moments ago. It shouldn't be. It was way too calm. The words were way too put together, way too well-thought of.

King Viserys couldn't think of what to say. He just stared at the flayed woman.

"Bolton, you know flaying is a forbidden practice." Prince Daemon's voice rang through the hall. He felt a sense of relief as he thought of how he'd told his wife and children to not follow them inside. He'd heard enough about the northmen to know that the sight wouldn't be pretty.

"Old ways, my Prince" The young woman in front of them said. "Can't allow for tradition to die out."

Daemon only hummed in response as he put a hand on his sword. It didn't go unnoticed by her. She smiled as her eyes went from his sword and back to his face, sharp canines showing between her lips.

"Serena, do not make me repeat myself." Lord Royce got in his daughter's face, his voice lowering enough so only she could hear him. "Drag that bitch down below and finish her before she screams her head off."

As father and daughter spoke in hushed,angry voices, Aegon allowed himself to look around the place. As he did, his eyes turned to look at his brother's face.

"Aemond! Aemond, don't look..." He whispered to his younger brother.

But the taller boy couldn't tear his eyes from the thing that was bound to the wooden cross. The woman was writhing in agony, the ropes around her wrists and ankles biting down hard. It came to him- they were made in such a way, so that every time the victim pulled, they got tighter. The poor creature had gone silent with the words of her lord, allowing her vocal cords to rest. She was overwhelmed, exhausted, in pain. Whatever was left of who she once was, however, was still fighting for her life- painfully obvious from the way her naked body wouldn't stop moving.

"Aegon...why is it shining?"

"Don't look, for fucks sake. Just don't."

"Aegon..." Aemond's voice was shaking ever so slightly. "Aegon, that's salt. They've covered her in salt."

"Serena. Now." Royce Bolton said.

The girl's pale eyes narrowed for a second. Then all emotions dissappeared from her even paler face.

"But of course, father! We wouldn't want to leave our guests waiting!" Serena smiled once more, her words drowning in poison.

She whistled, the sound tearing through the now silent room. Two men came through one of the open doors. Both were towering over Aemond, who at the age of nine and ten stood about six feet from the ground. The two walking mountains stopped on each side of the wooden cross. They didn't take long to get to work though. One busied himself with untying the creature, while the other grabbed the cross and lifted it, as if it weighed nothing. The two men turned around and left, walking out the same door they'd come in through.

"Go. Make it quick." Royce Bolton placed a hand on his daughter's shoulder. "If I hear this thing during the feast, you'll be the next one on that cross. You hear me, girl? I'll skin you myself."

They all heard him. He didn't even try to hide his words from them, but instead purposely made his voice louder. The girl didn't cower. She didn't stare back at her father in shock and heartbreak. What she did was much, much worse than his threat. She smiled. A big, toothy smile. Then she left, only turning her back to them when she reached the door.

"I apologize, your Grace!" Lord Bolton said without turning. "Our blades are sharp, just as our tongues. Here, let me escort you to your quarters."

"I- the Queen...and the others..." was all King Viserys said.

"Yes, of course. I will have my servants show you the way then? I'll make sure you don't have to pass through the Hall until it's been properly cleaned." The man sat in return, finally turning to look at his guests. "Prince Aegon, Prince Aemond. Let me show you to the training grounds. I trust you wouldn't want to miss on any lessons."

Neither one if them responded. They were staring at the door the young lady Bolton had left through. As if on cue, another scream rang through the Dreadfort.

"Come now. My daughter will join you soon. I doubt she'd miss on her training either."

────────────────

"I don't understand why mother wouldn't let us go in. I'm freezing!" The young Prince Lucerys said as he rubbed his gloved hands together, his whole body shaking. "Let's just go, I can't deal with this cold!"

The four of them were standing in the training grounds. Aegon and Aemond had refused to let their nephews in, who insisted on going in the Great Hall. It was cold. Way too cold for them, even if they'd spend most of their time up in the clouds. The North was unforgiving.

The silver haired brothers gave eachother a knowing look, their older nephew noticing immediately.

"You two mind telling us what's going on? What were those screams? Why wouldn't they let us in?" Jace asked, eyes going from one of his uncles to the other.

"There's things that aren't well-suited for a young prince's eyes, I'm afraid." A voice rang from above them.

They all turned to stare at her as she made her way down to the group.

"It's a pleasure, my Princes! I am Serena Bolton, daughter of Royce Bolton!" She said with a warm small.

Both Aegon and Aemond felt uneasy. The monster in front of them was trying to hide inside the body of this pretty thing. They knew it. The two also knew they both would've been just as smitten with the Bolton beauty as their nephews were, if they hadn't seen her covered in blood and gore; the skin of her victim draped over her shoulder as if it was a piece of clothing.

As Luke and Jace exchanged pleasantries with the young lady, Aemond turned to his brother.

"I don't like this." He whispered, lips barely moving as he spoke. "We have to be careful."

"Of course we have to, she was skinning someone alive few minutes ago." Aegon returned quietly. He spoke the words through teeth, too afraid that thing might catch them.

And it did. Its eyes were now trained on them. It strode over, Luke and Jace on its left.

"Would you care to join me for a hunt?"

"You hunt?" Luke's voice came through.

"Why, yes I do, my Prince!" The woman laughed out. "Quite often, actually!"

"I have never heard of a lady going hunting before. Well, except our mother. She killed a boar once. She was about their age." Luke pointed to his uncles.

The two's eyes narrowed, but also widened at the same time. The last thing they wanted was for its attention to go back to them.

"Well, I must admit, my taste in prey is rather... exotic."

Lady Bolton laughed again. The sound was different this time. More wild. More unhinged. More animalistic. At least that's how it sounded to the older brothers.

To Luke and Jace, it sounded like someone that didn't go boar hunting that often. Maybe it was deer or wolf for her.

"I plan on leaving as soon as possible, before it gets dark."

Before it gets dark.

"We would love to join you, my lady!" Jace said.

Before it gets dark.

"Wait for me at the gates then!" It returned. "I'll be quick, just have to go get my pack."

Before it gets dark.

"Pack?" Luke asked.

Before it gets dark.

"Yes, hunting dogs. I never leave without my loyal beasts, the woods could be a dangerous place."

Before it gets dark.

"Oh, well alright then! We'll wait for you at the gates, my lady!" Luke said with a happy smile. The boy was delighted at the prospect of going on a hunt in the big, wild North. "Oh, should we get our horses?"

Before it gets dark.

"No need. There's not that much snow this time of the year. We'll manage on foot."

Before it gets dark.

"Let's not distract the lady much longer. We'll go wait!" Jace said as he pushed his younger brother and uncles forward.

Before it gets dark.

The thing stood there for a while. Watching them, observing. Then the same wolfish grin her father possessed, found its way on her face.

It turned around and headed towards the kennels.

Before it gets dark.

"Aemond...It's getting dark."

"I know, Aegon. I fucking know..."

[nyxirrationalstories]

Hello Nyx hope your doing well may I request a Hades (Record of ragnarok ) x Son of Mictlantecuhli(onyx equinox ) like how they met , got together and how he the Male reader reacts to Hades death to Quin by vowing to be a king of Helheim that his husband Hades will be proud of. And how in honor of his husband Hades , Brother in law Poseidon who actually got along with the Male reader very well , takes Apollo’s place in the roster for the gods and ( since these two are the human fighters I care the least about ) kills either Tesla or Rasputin in a crushing victory for the gods ( no fight scene required ) despite either Tesla or Rasputin being very but like very strong.

Hi, let's do it.

The truth is, thanks to the scenarios you create, you give me new ideas. And I'll try to stick to the glory part of the victory, but I'll give it a twist.

In all honesty, if the opponent was Tesla this fight would be a victory of the gods. But you said Rasputin and that left me wondering what the battle would be like. I also tell you, I changed the lore of the protagonist a little bit… but the origin remains the same.

So I give you this:

The gods screamed in euphoria as they saw Grigori Yefimovich Rasputin fall to the ground while the humans felt the gods catching up to them.

The opposing god: a eunuch demigod son of Mictlantecuhli, who had lost against Ares in a bet and lost all his glory to later be given to Hades. Nobody expected that the young man would offer to avenge not only his lord but also his brother (Poseidon). With Persephone's permission, he was allowed to fight and give victory to the gods.

The young man knew that the goddess had allowed him to do so because both outcomes of the fight would benefit him:

If he won, she would have a champion serving him by proving to him that even though he was second in command in Helheim she would still have power over him.

If he lost… Persephone would get rid of her husband's lover once and for all. She would not listen to Hera when she told her to get rid of the lover, that he would replace his place and steal her husband's heart. Now was when she would put the advice into action.

The goddess was no fool, she knew of the nightly visits of the young man to his master; she knew of the caresses shared and the kisses given with an affection that she saw disappearing. And she knew of the nights of passion, being torn from her to give to the slave who became Hades' favorite lover.

Hades' death hurt both their hearts, but instead of uniting them, it only distanced them to the point of planning to kill each other and swearing to Hades to be the best rulers for Helheim… honoring his rule.

Meanwhile, the warrior felt that he had avenged his lover. That he had brought the victory that would destroy all of humanity, even if it made him a fool in his father's eyes.

"Those idiots, believing that without humanity they will be able to survive. Not understanding the symbiosis between human and god; in a few months they will be food for the primordials… who will start this cycle all over again and again." His father's words echoed in his head, but the young man thought the thought was ridiculous: A god can live without a human, but a human can live without a god. "Don't fight, it would be the sensible thing to do after gambling with Ares. Even if you love your master, don't you dare fight." Of course he wasn't going to listen to that sack of bones, who left him abandoned when Ares came to collect his prize. What neither of them expected was that Aphrodite would get jealous and castrate the poor boy (turning him into a eunuch) and give him to Hades.

Although in that last part… really if he could go back in time, he himself would give himself to his master and lover.

The young man and the gods were so absorbed in the victory, that they never heard Heimdallr claim the demigod as the winner, nor the smile that Brynhildr had on his lips. But above all, the young man did not see the triumphant smile of Persephone… who gave Göll a seed of life; just this once, the goddess and regent would give something to the valkyries since both had kept their word: the death of the young man at the hands of Rasputin.

The warrior did not have the chance to turn around when he saw that the gods stopped celebrating and the humans began to exclaim with joy. The young man only felt the cold of the steel being driven into his left lung, being killed by the one who was supposed to be dead.

--- I was poisoned, but that didn't kill me --- the Russian grabbed the young man by the neck to thrust another sword into the demigod --- I was shot, but that didn't kill me either --- with cruelty, the human tore off both arms of the warrior, The Russian put his hands on the neck of the young man, who looked into the eyes of the one who was killing him in a slow way --- hypothermia was what killed me, nature killed me… as it did you. … as it did with you. You, maybe you are a demigod, but my faith in you is null and void and that nourishes the gods, gives them life --- the stadium was silent, watching as Rasputin tore out the eyes of the defeated warrior --- and just as you can kill us, so can we. You feed on the greatest weapon mankind has: faith. It is time for you to know, that the gods are weak before the wrong people.

And with that said, Rasputin ripped the demigod's head off --- До свидания, мальчик. Пришло время встретиться с вашим учителем. [Goodbye, boy. It's time to meet with your teacher.] --- he said, throwing the young man's head away.

--- And the winner of the eighth round is Rasputin --- Heimdallr announced, causing a great roar in the coliseum from the humans.

Meanwhile, Persephone waited anxiously for the news that the warrior's soul would reach the hands of the Helheim judges… where she would seal her revenge by transforming him into a plant.

Sooner or later, Aphrodite always got her way; as long as love was involved.

Author's Note: Yes, this was all Aphrodite's overly elaborate plan and due to a misunderstanding…like any self-respecting Greek tragedy. I hope you liked it, I'm sorry if I changed the ending but you lit the fuse of my imagination and this came out.

I promise that for the next one you ask for, I'll give you a happy and even tender ending.

Con amor, Nyx.

[oh-for-fic-sake]

The Detectives Den

Masterlist

Summary: walter take you to a cabin for what you thought was a romantic weekend, but he has an ulterior motive afterall mateing season is just arou d the corner~

Warnings: Adult Situations +18, Smut, rough sex, primal sex, male dom, werebear Walter, Mating, Breeding, Turning, Noncon Bite?, claiming bites, soulmates, au shifter

A/n: so here it is! The were bear i started months ago and abandoned but picked up again today because of this post. Typos ahoy!

Taglist: in reblogs

You cried into the matress clawing desperately unsure if it was an attemt to help the huge male above you, or tryingmto escape him. For some reason since being here at the cabin he seemed different? Instead of being your huge soft teddy bwar he was wild, dark and growly both at peace and on edge. It was like he was now this big bad bear of a man, growling and strong all macho 'chop wood and start fire'

You grunted as he rutted harder almost fucking your hips pff the bed sending your feet scrabbling on the wooden floor, your socks sliding on the smooth wood.

"oh god~ sl-slow down! WalteAGH~" you cried out pressing up onto your elbows and stamping a foot on the floor grunting. Walter snarled into your back almost viciously before pressing an open mouthed kiss to your back lappjng the salty skin. He growled feeling his inner beast beat on his own restraint. The beed to uck and bit was almost overpowering. He wanted you dripping, ozzing his cum as he stained your perfect frailty with his venomous bite and change you for the better. He needed it like he'd never needed anything in his life. It was his own fault he was so needy and eager... restless. Hed had you at his side for six months far to lost in his bliss of having his mate he'd all but forgot about the mating season untill he was weeks away.

He snarled grolwing deeper and deeper his inner bears bellows trying to break through damanding you put your head down and take your mating properly. Face down ass up and minimal complaints! The deep sounds echoed through as the harsh breaths and grunts fanned over the sensitive skin of your shoulder blades.

"W-walt! Fuck please- hurry!" You whimpered over your shoulder as the large hands of your lover held you still bent over the bed pinning your hips into the matress and he thundered away, burrying himself to the hilt again and again still trying to feed you every thing he had and more. You cried out as he arched, tipping his hips striking your clit with his heavy sack moaning out his pleasure, the small pats making his cock twitch flexing agaisnt your tight channel as he speared you pryingnyou opene like never before.

These were no calculated strokes, he was fucking you with little care to how you withered and cried at his onslaught. Maybe thats why he brought you out here? You were deep in the woods and no one could hear you scream out your pleasure.

He growled low in his throat again biting back at his beast who was watching as you keened and scrabbled bent over on the bed your bare back glistening, tiny beads of sweat rolling down your sides. The scent of your arousal was enough to make him rabid, he needed this! Needed the release. His instincts were screaming savagely just below His mate! His female! His entierly!

And you were. He'd known the second he'd seen you in the cells. He thougt you were coming to bail out your foster dad who'd been caught at the center of a party filming a snuff film. A dark bdsm practice where the sub was unknowinly 'snuffed out' usually sufficated or break their neck from trying to escape. Either way it was a disgusting practice that was hard to pin blame, who was the one to arrest? The person tying the bonds? The dom? The spectators?

As it turned out you were there to cuss him out and hand in evidence phone records, emails, previous incidences. It turned out your father had been arranging these snuff films as a quiet hitman business silently offing people for a price.

Walter had gone out of his way to protect you, luring you to him with sweet dates and raw sex appeal. It had taken just over two months but he managed to secure a relationship with you. Youd been a couple for six months now, and finally it was time!

Finally he could claim you as his own kind did. Allbeit a tad late with only weeks to get you used to your rightfull place. Beside him. Below him!

He'd managed to et you out here to his den, secluded in the forest for a month long stay, mot that you knew it'd be a month. He'd said it'd be a long week end, you wasnt the outdoorsy type... well not yet.

"Shh, shh mate~ calm down you'll get there, just not yet... don't come yet we need- I need you to hold on for me" walter growled lowly into you making you sob and slump on the bed moaning into the covers. He moved slower trying to remember you were human, no matter how close the season was he couldnt mate you just yet. He had to give you the bite, then claim and help you come around to your new form and mate you... all in three weeks. If he tried to mate you properly now youd never survive him.

"Bu-but Bear!? Please i cant!" You wailed grunting and pressed back on him urgently unaware of just what was about to happen. He almost felt guilty, but it was better this way. Bite and help them transition then breed and continue the line. Or risk looseing you? His one mate! Once you were turned you'd feel the bond and wouldnt leave. It was how things were done, tradition!

Walter shook his head ridding the doubts that collected in his mind before chuckling... if only you knew how right you were~. Because be was a bear, a grizzly to be exact. It always brough a smirk to his face when you called him that, it'd soon be an inside joke between you. For every shifter there was a soul mate. The wolves had it easy,being pack animals their mates were mostly wolves themselves. But bears? No. Bears were solitary and their mates tended to be human.

For everything that happened in his life, he never imagined getting such a sweet gentle mate! You were a prize, his prize. Gifted to him by the old gods. You'd love and raise his cubs to be strong, fierce boy's and dainty smart females. His mind drifted, he couldnt wait to fill you, to plant his seed inside your womb and watch you create his cubs. But first he had claim you.

His eyes glazed as you beat at the bed arching your back to him trying desperately to pull him deeper clenching your pussy tight trying to force him to his own end where you could join him. You walls trembled as the suckled on him desperate to have walter quake at the knees and rut you into a tantelizing climax.

Walter snarled eyes now flickering with the burnt red brown that his beast held, the copper tinge glowing with a primal rage and need to latch onto his female and hold her still, repriand his sow for trying to take control and steal his seed before he was read to gift it to her!. Thoughts of tearing the skin and biting you twisted around his mind like a raging storm, his fangs ached. The venomous gift that would seal your fate to his forever thrumming in his jaws eagerly waiting. He was ready. He.was .ready! Years of woundering, then months of play the human game had made him impatient. He needed it, needed to feel the bond tie you together!

"Fine! You asked for it!" He snarled, an inhuman tremorto his voice made you pause, just as you tried to turn and question him you screamed out in panic. Walter bit you. Hard!

You thrashed squealing and panicking, kicking your splayed legs as your neck siezed, cramping. You muscle constricting around what felt like two deep thorns searing into you. Then a deep burn built. You cried in panic, fat tears rolling down your face mind bearly grasping what was going on around you. The shunts of your lovers hips became heavier and more pronounced, every breathnow a severe growl ratteling your bones. His cocks invasion slicing through the pain and terror as he moved faster and harder into you hitting your clit.

You wept tears streaming down your face as he fucked you rougher growling into your neck. Then despite the pain and fear the knot in your tummy snapped and you came around him. The trembling and mind numbing orgasm tore through you making you massage his still thrusting cock. You sobbed collapsing, giving up the fight as your sensitive body ached.

As if rewarding you for finally giving in Walter released your neck leaving it wet. You shuddered knowing that there would be blood but there wasnt much you could do about it. You keenesoftly as he roared over you victoriously painting your insides with his essence, lightly fucking into you. Instinct driving him to scent your cunt as deep as he could for your change, so youd smell of him warding off all other males in the area. This female was taken.

"Fuck. Fuck that was- better then the stories" he hummed over you smileing to himself head hanging down feeling at peace now his mate was claimed and would change. You'd be like him, strong fierce and safe. Able to take care of yourself and protect yourself and his young... fend off any vile human, fend off anyone but him~ your bear, your male, your mate!

"W-walter? My neck? What did you do?! Whh did you!- it feels funny it tingling" you panicked as walter pulled away from you befor slowly crawling onto the bed pullingnyou gently onto the soft bedding tugging you up to rest on your back.

"Its fine, perfect even- its the venom getting to work love" he explained cooing at you wiping you down patting the wohndmon your neck. In his spare of the moment bite he'd been rougher then he could have been, and that was part of the reason his venom was making you go limp already.

"V-VENOM! WHAT VENOM?" You bellowed now bawling panting, hyperventilating eyes wide and tears rolling down your face. His heart clenched as your hand waved in the air trying to hold him but you couldnt feel it, only a heavy numb limb that was useless.

"No, no its not bad- not bad my we t little mate... your turning, you'll turn and be like me" walter said hushingnou craning over you taking your waving hand an pressing kisses to the palm.

"Turn?! What are you- you bite me! We need help! Im gojng numb! Cold walter im bleeding out! Am i bleeding!?" Yu yipped still not understanding what was goingnon? He bit you... HE BIT YOU!? you tried pryingnyour hand free wanting to feel the damage on your neck. The room was spinning, you were growing cold you felt li,e you were dying!

"No shh your not bleeding, your turning... youve taken the bite soo well, so well love... you'll be fine... you'll sleep and then wake up stronger then ever" walter hummed fawning over you, giving you small gentle stroke's he knew he couldnt sit you down and explain, you were falling fast. He just had to reassure you untill you drifted off into the change.

"Wha?"

"Shh im here im here mate... your gonig to be a bear just like me" he whispered softly grinning down at you unable to stop. He was too damn proud, he found you and bit you! Youd be with him always!

"Bear?" You muttere trying to hold him closer as the room began shimmering, lights and blaack dots laceingnyour vision as the heated chill rushed through you drowning your body in a strange soothing yet frightening feeling.

"Yes... I'm a shifter, I brought you here to- to my den, the den of my forefathers, ive given you the bite just as my father did to our mother inthis very cabin!" He rushed trying to explain best as he could not liking the scent of terror on you. He never wanted to scare you, but fear was inevitable. Still if he could ease your worries before you succumbed he would.

"What- walter im- its fuzzy!" You cried desperately tryingnto cling to the little consciousness you had. But it was getting harder as the seconds ticked by.

"Hush im here, it's the change my love... youll be like me... a bear shifter- and just before mating season too...You'll change and then we will mate over and over untill your carrying my cubs~" walter said as a lump swelled in his throat. His father had said this was the worst bit. The fear and panic as your new found mate fell to the transformation. But as the guilt and anxiety sent in so did the excitement of your furture. Your mateing, your family-cubs and a den of your own! It was enougn to make the grown boar cry like a young cub!

"W-walt your scaring me~" you slurred as the room began spinning, a hot sensation coursing through your veins but your skin was cool and prickling.

"Shh its okay love, you need to sleep, just rest when you wake things will be... they will be perfect, sleep, give in don't fight, you dont want to be awake for this part" he said movi g to lay your hand back down at your side. Then sat up besode you looking around for another pillow tomprop under your head.

"W-walter! No, dont leave-" you cried bawling frightened as your eyelids got heavy, he sounded as if he was drifting further from you. Bringing another wave of panic, especiallywhen he placed your hand down.

"I'm not, i wont leave you, not for a second my beautiful female" he said leaning over you holding your chin peppering kisses over your face. Making sure you felt he was still there even as you drifted into the comatose state that would protect you from the pain of your initial transformation. You cries slowly doed off as you closed your eyes unable to fight anymore and let the black take you.

Walter stayed put watching you with baited breath. Now it was his job to gaurd you. Protect and care for you as the grueling first shift took holdand he spied what bear you'd be. The venom in all shifters was the same, each becmea different animal in accordance to their individual traits. He was a grizzly one of the largest bear, his cousin geralt was a polar bear and sy a kodiak. He knew youd be a bear because you were mates, and thats just how it worked.

He sat back cringing as you grunted moaning as things began to shift, your body would rid itself of toxins and ailments first. Flush your system before the real process began. He stood from the bed making his way to the bathroom to fetch the many damp towels he'd need to clean you up. It had been him to insight the change and now it was his duty to care for you through this difficult transition. And it would be is absolute pleasure, because this was the all important duty for him as a male his kind, this would tighten his bond with your beast. He would oversee everything and help you, even help break bones to help you shift faster. Anything to get you through a full shift cycle, to beast and back so you could awaken that little bit faster and begin your life as a true pairing. Despite th grusome nature of the event, walter couldnt be more pleased because thos was the true beginning of his life with you, and he wouldnt change a damn thing.

[thedelusionreaderbitch]

Kaz Brekker x fem! Reader - The Saints Of Freedom

(Gif not mine)

A/n: So this just came up into my head... There's going to be so much Shadow and bone content I'm just saying in advance - I'm so sorry! Also Matthias is alive!

Warnings: Sexual abuse, abuse, harassment, angst, fluff, terrible men, death, blood, language I think that's it? You have been warned!

Summary: Some man from the Crow Club wants a good time with you

I take a sip of my water, sighing. Inej and Kaz are in the corner talking to each other, like they never broke up. Wylan and Jesper are in a couple seats over from me joking with each other like their lives depend on it. And Nina and Matthias are in a both in back, Nina trying to get Matthias to kiss her while he's trying to be decent. Apparently.

Why did I have to fall for the Bastard of the Barrel?

I shift around on my bar stool a bit so I can listen in on a conversation.

"Let's play a round of strip poker boys!" I flinch, nope not happening.

I guess I never really fell in love with Kaz, I drowned for him. Him and all his terrible ways and his broken mindset, I drown in that. I yearn for that death in an ocean of Kaz Brekker. Wanting that kills me, slowly although.

"James! Go get some Chicks!" I stiffen up and start to get out of my seat. I gracefully like a snake avoid anyone in the crowd slipping into the darkness acting as just another man looking for it's prey.

That way you go unnoticed.

A hand grabs me and forcefully drags me away from the entrance. Damn it, I was so close. I am harshly turned towards the person who dragged me away from my freedom. A shiver runs up my spine as a man with yellow teeth grins down on me. His left hand goes up and down my arm, while his right has a bruising grip on me.

"Your gonna come play some poker with us aren't you little- Umm let me think." The man pretends to think for a second

"Ah! Your a fawn!"

I freeze.

That's what my father called me when he use to rap-

Don't think about that you need to try and make up a plan to get out of here!

I realize that I'm dragged all the way to the back where a table is, too late.

"Come on girly, we want some." The monster says.

"Now." He growls.

I shake my head trying to get the thoughts out of my head from my home life. I can't kill them because their good pigeons to the Crow Club. But I can injury them if necessary.

"Your not even going to tell your name?" I look up to the man who dragged me over here, knowing that he's going to get me and will be the only one to get me. He got his prey now the others get to watch.

"It's James pretty girl, and take your pants and panties off now, if I win you'll get to keep em." The men around the table chuckle in delight knowing what will happen - he will try to loose.

"And if you don't?" I cheer myself on internally for not loosing it and keeping my voice strong. Stall, it's the best thing you get do.

"We really start playing poker than."

Lies. I hiss in my head, once my pussy is out he will do what ever he wants with me.

I place a hand on his arm, stall Y/n, stall.

"When does the game end?" I lean in and whisper into his ear like I'm trying to seduce him. Bile rise's up from my throat but I shallow it back down but then I realize it makes me seem like I'm nervous. Shit. He seems to have picked up on that though and he likes it. It means he has control.

His hand goes to my thigh.

"As long as I want." He pulls me onto to him and I struggle out of his grip. Five other men come and hold me down on the table. I attempt to wrestle them all and I almost get out, but two other monsters come up and hold me down.

"Let's give them a show boys!"

Tears gather up in my eyes.

"Monsters." I hiss at the men. One with blond hair punches my arm with the bed of his fist and a small scream is with drawled from my throat as I hear it... Crack! Fuck, it's definitely broken.

"You can't break a girl that's already been broken, you'll only get cut." I rasp my voice quiet but very, very angry.

"You litt-" He gets cut off from the other man who brought me to this torture.

"Gather round! People, gather round! Let's see what we can do to this pretty little fawn here?" The man - James says as he places a hand on my stomach. Mostly horrid men gather around the table but the odd woman is here too, probably the dumb ones. As soon as the predator got it's prey you run.

So your not it's next meal.

Struggling to try and get out of the men's grip on me, but it's hopeless. They have two on each limb of my body holding me down.

"Come on little fawn, it's time to play." The man whispers into my ear.

Memories flood into my sense's of my father. Doing terrible, terrible things to me. Marking me. Tainting me, as I learned not to scream anymore so mother wouldn't beat the crap out of me because if he couldn't get me - he got her.

The barbaric beast crawls onto me surely leaving bruise's and his hand goes to lift up my shirt and-

BANG! He's on the floor bloodied from where something hit his face. Hard.

The other men don't try and stop whoever hit the other vile man to the floor. I almost don't open my eyes to see who might be my savoir in fear that they just might want some.

I open my eyes.

Kaz! I think and I nearly sigh in relief.

"Let her go." Kaz says dangerously low and calm and the men practically drop me on the table.

Kaz's cane is still on the table as I sit up. Hi cane is pointed towards the men in question and at this point the other man starts to get up. Kaz nods to Jesper and Inej and she smiles a bit, always a pleasure to hurt some nasty men. Matthias seems to be guarding to doorway so now one can get out and Nina seems to go help Inej and Jesper as Wylan goes help Matthias with the door. Demo at the entrance, nice.

Kaz holds out a gloved hand, I take it and stand up next to him and at the angle we're at I'm pressed up against him.

"Come on little fawn." My father opens the door to my room slowly with a sadistic smile on his face.

"But fath-"

He lifts me up by hair and the cry of pain that would come from a normal child did not come, for they had not been train to be solider at seven.

"We don't call me that when it's play time. You know that." He growls as his hands start pulling off my shirt.

"Yes master." He takes my shirt off and h-

"Y/n." I voice says and I open my eyes and they lock onto some dark brown eyes. "Would you like to do the honours?" A voice rasps. I realize that Kaz is referring to the seven men lined up, held up my Nina, Inej, and Jesper and with some help from Wylan who has a grenade out to scare them.

I feel myself fade away like a I'm ghost.

Come on Y/n, be a good little fawn.

No. I think and push the memories back.

I go to the first three and I simply cut their throats with my double sided daggers. A man laughs and I swiftly turn. I then stab one in the stomach, the one who laughed while I killed the others. He howls in pain, I then simply kill him and the others till it's just the last one left. The monster. The one who dragged me away like a sack of kruge. Like I was a prize for him.

A ballistic smile creeps up on his face like he was paper and someone was drawing my nightmares.

It's my brother.

My brother who has the same smile as my dad, the brother who made fun of me at school, the brother who helped mom and beat me on his own accords as well. The brother who toke after our father in every way.

"You won't kill me." James smiles.

"You won't kill me." My brother says as I pull out a knife with serpent around it's handle.

"You still love me, I'm your brother." I drop the knife and he see's it as his chance and strikes.

The knives shake in my hands but I put them away.

"See." He chuckles like he knew what would happen. Imbecile.

"Your doing it wrong." Kaz limps up to me, the familiar pace of his cane hitting the floor. "You need to have a reason."

"I thought you didn't need one?" I sigh in disappointment of doing it the wrong way. Again. Kaz stares at me for a couple of seconds then shakes his head slightly like he's trying to clear his mind.

"No. You need a reason behind why we're here."

My brows frown in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Limping closer to me he places a hand on my shoulder.

"Why are you here?"

He walks back a bit giving me space to do my work. I suck in a deep breath, why am I here?

I release my weapon, an extension of myself and it doesn't hit the traget.

A man hits the ground with a thud, the man who tried to get a night with me yesterday is dead right on the ground. The blade embedded inside his chest and the snake sticking out.

Checkmate.

Kaz flash's me a smile but I barley catch it and it's gone in a blink.

"Good, not what do you want to be called?"

"Serpent." I whisper as I look up into his eyes.

"The Serpent."

I take out my knife with a snake around it's hilt always looking like it's moving and ready to strike.

Why are you here.

I close my eyes and it's done in a flash.

His ankles and hands are severed off and they drop to the floor like their separate bodies.

I lean in and whisper into his ear.

"The Serpent as struck and it seems." I grin a little.

"She has not granted you the mercy of death."

I lean in closer so only he can hear as he howls out in pain.

"Eight years." I breath. I come back up and turn swiftly out of the Crow Club shoving past Matthias who looks to be horrified but I don't know beause he did survive hellgate.

I stumble into an alleyway and I grip onto the brick wall.

The wolf is no more.

Streaming down my face tears flood my vision as I weep for all the pain, for all the years of torture finally the last one of them is dead.

Thump. Thump.

I hear the rhythmic of the crow cane but it seems to stop.

I lift my head up.

Kaz.

"Breath Y/n." I gasp in a breath and I stumble forward into his arms. I tense up and-

"Come on sister time to be a..."

"I'm not him." He whispers and it pulls me back into reality like an anchor.

He goes to try and touch my face but he stops midway and takes his gloves off. He touches his ungloved hand to my face and I can feel myself losing him to the past.

Think, Y/n! Think! He helped you, he saved you from everything! From your retched family, from the men today! He made it so you could defend yourself! He-

"Sankta Kaz." I blurt.

His eyes snap open and goes to back away.

"No, no, no! You can't possibly think of me as a saint!"

Normally I would be discomposed and would already be running out from embarrassment but a weird calmness wash's over me and a strange sort of serenity makes me want to go swimming.

"You may not be a saint to them." I point out behind him even though there's no people.

"But to me..." I pause trying to find the right words.

"You are my savoir. You saved me from my family." I walk up to him. "You killed my father and mother." I keep on walking closer. "You saved me from myself, you saved me today, and..." I trail off realizing how close we are.

I look into those dark eyes and I barely breath out,

"You gave me freedom."

I hesitantly warp my arms around him and he stiffens up but he relax's in my embrace. Our face's get closer and closer then-

"Why are you here?" It's the question he asked when I first learned how to throw a knife: What do you want?

"I am here because..." I trail off trying to find the words.

"I am here because of the kids." A new found confidence builds up in my chest.

"I am here to help the children safe from their abusive homes. I will help the children of Ketterdam." A fire of passion ignites in me making me bold.

"Will you help me?" The words hang in the air and Kaz looks into my eyes with a calculating gaze.

"I run a gang Y/n." I go to look away my face burning with embarrassment.

"But..." He takes my face into his hands.

"This Bastard can do both I guess." I grin in happiness and our faces finally get closer and we kiss.

Lightning crash's through me but I think of Kaz and our friends. Our lips shift together and I realize now that...

I'm drowning.

I'm drowning in Kaz, I'm absolutely deep into the ocean, falling but never rising. I just keep on going deeper and deeper till I pull away.

We pull away and I feel like a wave just crashed into me Kaz smiled and I whisper;

"Sankta Kaz."

Sankta Kaz the saint of greed. Sankta Y/n the saint of suffering. Together they are the saints of freedom.

Words 2383

-thedelusionreaderbitch

All rights go to Leigh Bardugo, Netflix and you! I just own the plot!

[ap-kinda-lit]

Macabre Latin-American Legends

1. La Llorona (Mexico)

La Llorona (aka, the Weeping Woman) is one of the best known ghost legends of Hispanic origin. Like many legends, there are various differing origin stories behind her, but they all center around the same thing: a young, beautiful mother whose spirit roams the land of the living in search of her deceased children, wailing non-stop and crying out, "Aye, mis hijos!" ("Oh, my children!"). She is most commonly sighted in urban areas, rivers or lakes, and highways. Although many agree that la Llorona's legend has deep roots in Mexican territory and has been around prior to the Spanish Conquest, her story has great significance in just about all Hispanic/Latin countries. People from all over the globe have claimed to have seen the spirit of la Llorona or heard her cries. La Llorona is a tragic figure but is also feared. Many who have grown up hearing her story remember her as a childhood bogeyman. From generation to generation, elders have warned youngsters to respect adults and not stay out after dark or wander near bodies of water, because if they do otherwise they will become targets to la Llorona. It is said that if la Llorona encounters a lone child, she will abduct them and drown them to take the place of her lost children, hence adults and children being very wary of her.

2. El Silbón (Venezuela, Columbia)

The Whistler is a tall, thin man who wears a large hat. Just like la Llorona, his origin story is retold in a number of variations. But in each version of it, he is the wandering lost soul of a young man who committed the horrible crime of killing his own father. As punishment for his patricide, he was tied to a post and his bare back was lashed repeatedly then had a pack of vicious dogs sicced on him. He was also forced to carry a sack containing his father's bones over his destroyed back and was condemned to do so for all eternity. El Silbón got his moniker from his habit of whistling one particular tune constantly. This tune he whistles lets people know he's present and acts as an omen of impending death. He's usually non-discriminate with his victims but he's been said to sometimes prey on womanizers and drunks. With drunks, he sucks the alcohol out of their navels like a vampire; with womanizers, he violently tears them apart and and takes their bones to put them into the sack containing his father's and other victims' bones. Fortunately, el Silbón can be warded off and his death curse can be prevented. All that is required to do this is the mere sound of a dog barking or a whip, either of which will scare him off.

This is what El Silbón's whistle sounds like:

3. El Coco (Portugal, Galicia, Spain, Mexico)

El Coco is a bogeyman-type, shape-shifting monster who preys on misbehaving children. If a child stays up past their bedtime or disobey their parents, el Coco will come and abduct and devour them. It dwells under beds and in closets or just about any part of a room shrouded in darkness. Some versions say that el Coco was once a man but became the kidnapping, child-eating monster. One version is that he became ill with tuberculosis in a time where it was a death sentence so he turned to drinking children's blood to cure himself but ended up transforming into the monster he is known as now.

4. Chupacabra (Puerto Rico, Mexico, America)

El Chupacabra is one of the most famous cryptids in the world. The creature is a vampiric predator that attacks livestock and sucks them dry of their blood. It is described as having glowing red eyes and being canine-like or as a reptilian humanoid. Chupacabra attacks and sightings have been reported all over, from the United States to Chile (sometimes even in Europe and parts of Asia).

5. Nueve Veces Veronica (Spain, Mexico)

Nueve Veces Veronica is a spiritual ritual similar to Bloody Mary. The ritual includes a pair of scissors, a red ribbon/string, a Bible, and takes place in a dark room with a mirror. The entity summoned in this game is none other than the spirit of a girl named Veronica. She will act as a fortune-teller, but if a person taking part in the game doesn't take her seriously, she will kill them. This game surrounding Veronica is said to be her punishment. She was once a teenage girl who played the exact same game with some friends one night. Veronica made the terrible mistake of not taking the ritual seriously and, as a result, the scissors used in the ritual went flying through the air and stabbed Veronica in the neck. Her friends ran to get help and when they returned they found Veronica lying in a pool of blood, one hand holding the Bible and the other grasping the scissors embedded in her neck.

6. La Pisadeira (Brazil)

A creepy hag with claws and red eyes who preys on people who go to bed with a full stomach. La Pisadeira creeps into their bedroom and is able to climb onto her intended victim's chest as they are induced with sleep paralysis. She does nothing but sit on the immobilized victim's chest and bask in their sheer terror, which she feeds off of and becomes stronger with. Sometimes the victim will survive the encounter only to be visited by her again and reliving to the experience, but sometimes she will instead suffocate them to death.

7. La Sayona (Venezuela)

La Sayona is a fearsome spirit who appears as an attractive woman and targets unfaithful men. She was once a beautiful woman who was married with a baby boy. She liked to go swimming in a nearby lake and it was there she attracted the admiration of a man. The man was so taken with her that he hatched a scheme to get her to himself. He told her that her husband was cheating on her...with her mother. She was so angered by this allegation that she went home and killed her husband and baby then attacked her mother with a machete. With her dying breath, the mother professed there was no affair going on and she cursed her daughter to become a supernatural entity that lived to take revenge on those who are unfaithful to their partners. La Sayona will roam on highways or jungles where work is being done and when she encounters a lustful man she will seduce him, get him alone, then reveal her true colors and attack. She will either turn into an animal and tear off their genitals or give them an STD that will cause their genitals to shrink and blister, indicating to their wives or girlfriends that they have been unfaithful.

8. Maria Angula (Ecuador)

Maria Angula was the daughter of a Cayambe landowner and she loved to gossip, which often got her into trouble. She spent so much time gossiping that she didn't learn how to cook. So, when she married and her husband would ask for a meal, she faced a problem. Maria went to her neighbor, Dona Mercedes, who was an excellent cook, and she told her how to make certain recipes. When Maria did what she was told, she would pass it off as her own and acted as if she knew what her neighbor was talking about when she explained recipes to her. Dona Mercedes became fed up with Maria's arrogance and ingratitude and decided to teach her a lesson. When Maria came to her for help yet again, Dona Mercedes took advantage of the girl's ignorance. Maria's husband had requested a meal that consisted of a Puzun (stomach) from a goat but Dona Mercedes told Maria that a Puzun from a human was tastier. Mercedes told Maria what to do, thus Maria went to the cemetery that night and looked for the most recently buried coffin there. Then, she dug it up, opened it, and cut out the deceased's stomach and took it home to cook it exactly as Dona Mercedes had directed. Like Dona Mercedes had said, her husband loved the meal Maria had cooked. That night, after the married couple went to bed and fell asleep, Maria awoke to a bony specter that demanded its guts back from her. When it didn't get what it requested, it dragged Maria out from her bed and took her away into the night, never to be seen or heard from again.

[thebakingqueen5]

KW 2021: Tease

Day 6 for Kataang Week 2021 hosted by @kataang-week with the prompt Tease!

I might have stuffed up the use of this word and its definition in context but shhhh it’s fine and this is cute.

Links: FF.net | AO3

Summary: Another year, another summer, another week of prompts celebrating our favorite couple. Kataang Week 2021 Day 6. Tease (verb): gently pull or comb (tangled wool, hair, etc.) into separate strands. Aka the take on the “tease” prompt that no one (not even me) expected.

Word Count: 1.8K

It had been a tiring, tension-filled day.

The war ended five, maybe six months prior, and the four nations were still partaking in the grueling process of learning to work together after a century’s worth of fighting. Considering that a group of teenagers were the reason there was any hope of amity in the first place, it came as little surprise that most of the pressure to arrange and facilitate treaties and peace talks fell on the Gaang, much to their chagrin.

And so here they were, utterly exhausted after a long day of trying to convince the Earth King and Zuko that violence was, in fact, bad, and stressed out of their minds, aching for a distraction.

It certainly didn’t help that tonight, of all nights, Katara’s long, dark hair was refusing to cooperate despite her having just stepped out of the shower a mere 10 minutes past. No matter how many times she ran the whalebone comb through her thick locks, nothing seemed to help, and her patience was quickly dissipating.

“Spirits, Zuko and Kuei are going to drive me absolutely crazy, sweetie.” Aang ranted as he entered her room, closing the door shut behind him as he made wild gestures with his hands.

“They’re both so… stubborn! And self-righteous and it’s getting us nowhere!” he huffed in frustration. “I wish they could just- oh.”

The airbender immediately faltered, finally noticing the appearance, or rather the clothing, of his girlfriend seated in front of a square mirror, nightgown riding quite high up her thigh.

“Sorry,” he blushed, eyes darting around the room to look anywhere, absolutely anywhere except at her to keep what little modesty they had left between them. “I didn’t know you had already showered and changed- I really should have knocked.”

Katara rolled her eyes, a slight pink tint rising to her cheeks as she returned to the task at hand: attempting to tame the lion’s mane she called her hair resting atop her head at that very moment.

“It’s fine, Aang,” she laughed, pushing a strand of hair out of her face. “No need to be embarrassed, really. Besides, it’s nothing you haven’t already seen.”

The waterbender snuck a quick glance at her boyfriend, and, quite frankly, she wasn’t sure he could get any redder if he tried. A tomato would have been jealous of the vibrant hue of Aang’s face, and he couldn’t stop staring at the floor, gaze entirely focused on the wooden boards beneath him.

The boy remained silent, and guilt began to fill Katara’s stomach.

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” she frowned, standing up. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I can go change if you want-”

Aang instantly looked up from the ground, quick to clarify his thoughts. “No, sweetie. It’s not that! It’s just- you look absolutely beautiful, and I don’t want me subconsciously staring at you to make you feel uncomfortable or uneasy around me.”

Katara’s eyebrows raised in pleasant surprise, and she patted a spot on the edge of the mattress, beckoning for him to come sit near her before turning back and glaring at herself in the mirror.

“Believe me, sweetie, there is very little you can do to make me feel uncomfortable around you. Honestly, it’s a bit of a compliment knowing that’s how I seem in your eyes,” she said shyly.

The airbender grinned and walked up to her. Feeling a little emboldened, he tenderly wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed a kiss to her cheek, chin barely reaching an inch above her shoulder.

“You could be wearing a potato sack and you’d still be the most beautiful woman in the world to me,” he murmured as his stormy eyes met her cerulean ones through the mirror.

“Really?” she raised an eyebrow and gestured to the mess on her head. “Even with this bird’s nest?”

“Always,” Aang smiled earnestly. “Speaking of, though, do you need some help with that?”

“I appreciate the offer, Aang, but I’ve been trying for the last half hour now and you aren’t exactly the most experienced with hair.”

“Well, maybe a new perspective is just what you need.”

He gently pulled her back towards the mattress a few feet away from the dresser with the mirror and sat her down in front of him. Rolling her eyes, the waterbender handed him her comb, but he simply cast it aside, instead using his nimble fingers to work through the knots and tangles in her hair.

Katara was right- he did have minimal experience with hair, not having much of his own, but he often played with hers when they spent time together. He knew what relaxed her and what didn't, which gave him the perfect means to seize this opportunity and prove her wrong, while also, of course, helping the two unwind and spend some time with one another.

The waterbender had already been quite frustrated when she had started working through her hair, and her movements had reflected that. She was stressed and antsy, and she combed harshly and roughly, only compressing the knotted hair to the end of the strand and making it harder to get out. Between that and the day she had, she had been close to tears and Aang’s gentle touch was just what she needed.

Much of Aang’s stress had been alleviated when he had entered the room earlier in simply being able to see and embrace his girlfriend. Because of this, he was able to take his time and the change of pace was nice for the both of them.

He worked slowly and methodically, fingers lightly massaging the top of her scalp before moving down to dampen and separate her wavy tresses into individual strips of hair with the help of some waterbending. He took care to not tug too hard on any one strand, having heard many a horror story from Katara in the past with her unable to tolerate anyone else handling her sensitive locks. The airbender was determined to make it a pleasant experience for the both of them, and it was.

In fact, Katara had been mildly shocked by the sheer love and effort she felt Aang direct into detangling her hair. It was sweet seeing him put so much energy towards trying something new just to help her, and the tension in her mind that had been knotted up began to unravel as well.

“Halfway,” Aang whispered, breaking her out of her thoughts. His gaze was still intense and focused on her unruly strands as she sighed softly and leaned ever so slightly back into him.

“I’m sorry I ever doubted you,” she murmured back. She closed her eyes as Aang’s rhythmic yet feathery touches to her scalp soothed her and then gave herself a quick look in the mirror through her peripheral vision- her hair was already looking a lot better and far more tame than it had been 15 minutes ago.

“That’s alright, just have a little more faith in your amazing boyfriend next time, yeah?” he winked with a smile, hands moving the hair he had untangled to the front as he directed his concentration to the last section.

This section was by far going to be the hardest-  most of the strands were embedded into a few large and messy knots creating quite a complex network. Nevertheless, Aang was up to the challenge. He began humming an old Air Nomad folk tune, one of the many they’d perform at Yangchen’s Festival, causing Katara to hum along with him as he spread apart the last few unruly waves of hair.

After finishing, he steadily ran his fingers through her hair like a comb, taking extra care to caress the nape of her neck and back of her head as she sighed happily, and gave it one last sweep with the whale-bone comb.

“All done,” he said, tucking a lock behind her ear when she turned around to face him.

The waterbender beamed before lightly pushing him down on the bed as they both sank into the mattress.

“I take it you enjoyed it?” Aang laughed, looking up at her.

“Very much so,” Katara responded. She then carefully angled herself so that she was lying pressed up against Aang’s side, head resting in the crook of his neck.

“It was pretty relaxing for me too,” Aang blushed. “You know I love playing with your hair and this just kinda took it to another level. I’d be happy to do it for you in the future if you ever find yourself fighting with that comb again, that is.”

“I’d like that, Aang. A lot,” she smiled shyly. “It was great to just… unwind. Have you there with me and just relax. I was basically about to cry when you came in and you just melted all my worries away with those magical hands of yours.”

The airbender chuckled, snaking his arm around her shoulders and leaning his head against hers. “Glad to hear it, sweetie. It’s getting late though, and we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. Time for some rest?”

Katara wordlessly nodded, sighing and closing her eyes as Aang did the same and blew out the candles lighting up the room.

“Thank you for this, sweetie. I love you.”

“I love you too, Tara. Good night.”

The two were taken away into the dream realm, but an unspoken custom was crafted that night. It became a ritual, a way for both of them to calm down and escape the high stress levels of their everyday lives.

When Katara found her dad kissing Malina and it felt like her whole world was crumbling down around her, Aang had snuck into her room that night and combed and plaited her hair until they drifted off into each other’s arms.

When Aang had confided in the waterbender about feeling anxious and insecure about becoming a new father after she had informed him of her pregnancy, Katara had shown up to the stables with a comb and some apples for Appa in tow. The two ended up assuaging each other’s concerns while leaning back against the fluffy bison, much to their attention-seeking flying lemur’s annoyance.

Whether they were stressing over not being able to find an old book from the Southern Water Tribe after moving to Air Temple Island or had just come home after a near-death experience with the most dangerous bloodbender in the world, one of the two would always sit the stressed one down and grab a comb.

It never became a chore or something they dreaded; it was almost a secret love language for the couple. It was a way of reminding each other that no matter what was going on in their lives, they would always find time for each other and help one another. It pulled Aang and Katara out of some of their lowest, darkest moments, and it only accentuated their highs.

Such a simple, pure act born out of nothing but love and a desire to help- it should’ve been insignificant, a one-time thing, but it became so much more. To Katara and Aang, it meant the world.

[straydawg-writing]

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦.

- 𝓚. 𝙯𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙮𝙘𝙠

• hunter x hunter series

⋯✰⋯

Chapter 3—

"Don't they have anything at least a LITTLE flattering? I get they're like hippie-extremists, but not all of us want to look like a sack of potatoes," you complained, swiping through their clothing racks that screamed no-potential-whatsoever.

You'd finally arrived at NGL headquarters, only for them to make the three of you throw out your phones and clothes. It's like they were still living in the 18th century.

"It's only clothes. Just pick whatever," Killua replied while browsing through the selection, though he looked equally as aggravated and bored. He did have at least some style that he wanted to upkeep.

Gon on the other hand didn't seem to care.

"You think they have anything green?" He wondered out loud.

You pulled out a set of white pants with a blue long sleeves top.

"Hey Killua."

"Yeah?"

You shoved the set into his arms, giving him a bright smile.

"Try this on, I think it would match your eyes well."

"Idiot. The Chimera Ants won't be looking at my eyes when we're fighting them." Pink dusted his cheeks as he looked to the side, avoiding eye contact.

He bought the outfit without even trying it on.

Gon pouted. "Wait, what about me?"

You pulled out two more similar sets. One was a pair of green pants and a white tank top, while the other was burgundy pants with a black top. That one was yours.

"We can all match!" You grinned, relieved you finally found something that wouldn't make you all look like homeless children. "Well, sort of." The sets were still different colors, but they retained the same general style.

"Oh, great idea Y/N! I'll go change into it now," Gon beamed, nearly skipping all the way to the changing room with his brand new green pants. It was about time he put on something different for a change, you inwardly joked.

Killua was already walking back from the stalls when Gon ran past him.

"Wow Killua, look at that drip~" You whistled, checking out his new outfit.

"You're so hopeless," he sighed, bonking the top of your head.

You rubbed where he had hit and stuck out your tongue, pretending to be hurt. It was the truth though, he looked really good in the outfit you had picked out. Peeking at him while he wasn't looking, you discovered that the tight-skinned long sleeves accentuated his arms in a way you'd never noticed before, hugging his lean muscles. You were right about the royal-colored shirt bringing out his pretty blue eyes. And the way his pale skin and white hair contrasted them even looked a little heavenly...

God, what were you thinking? If Killua heard you right now he'd hit you over the head another 20 times over. You looked to the floor, hoping he wouldn't see your growing blush.

After all three of you had changed into your new clothes, the hunt for the Chimera Ants began. Kite was on his own horse, while the rest of you fit on the second one due to your small frames. You were holding onto Gon's torso as he took control of the reins.

He was like a natural, his whole body moving in sync with the horse in strong determination. You trusted him, knowing that wouldn't just let you topple over. You weren't really used to horses, as they weren't typically found roaming around the jungle.

Then there was Killua, who was standing stick-straight on the horse like it was nothing.

"How do you even do that?!" You called out over the sound of galloping hooves.

"Huh, Do what? You mean this?" Killua smirked, doing a handstand.

You couldn't believe him. The boy had no fear at all.

"You're crazy," you stated, turning around to face Killua and leisurely leaning your back against Gon.

You had finally mastered balancing on the horse without having to hold onto him— but you had nowhere as near the skill Killua did.

"Maybe I am, but you love it," he teased, still upside-down. Temptingly enough, his white locks of hair were hanging upside-down too.

Slowly, you leaned forward on the palm of your hands, steadily closing in the distance between you two.

"Sure, I do. You got me there," you cooed, catching him off guard.

"Huh.." He sweatdropped, turning bright red. Killua's balance was starting to wobble.

Then, exploiting his moment of weakness, you tugged on his hair knocking him over.

Satisfied, you rested against Gon again. Thankfully the boy didn't seem to mind.

"Show off," You said, sticking your nose in the air.

"Man, that was so unfair!" Killua whined, sitting back down on the horse and dragging his hands down his face.

You crossed your arms, ready to deliver some witty comeback, when you noticed some bees in the distance that looked like they were carrying something. Squinting your eyes, you saw that they were flying in closer.

"Hey guys, look at that," you pointed out. The horses stopped as one of the bees dropped the paper in Kite's hand.

Help!!

Chimera Ant Nest, Rocky Area

Notify Hunter Association!!

An SOS? And it appeared to be written in blood.

You cast a worried glance at Gon, who looked disturbed.

"It's Ponzu..."

Ponzu...? The name wasn't familiar to you at all. That must be somebody Killua and Gon knew from before you had met them.

The bee fluttered defeatedly around you before making its landing on your ring finger. Kite made the decision to leave the horses, with a message for the Hunter Association.

Even though they ran faster on foot, it didn't take much time until you came across an unsettling scene.

Or, what was left of Ponzu.

Blood soaked the ground. Articles of ripped-up clothing scattered the dirt, and there was not even a bone in sight. The putrid smell of iron overwhelmed your nostrils.

It was fresh blood.

If you had arrived even 15 minutes earlier, maybe Gon and Killua's friend would not have so barbarically killed. You felt sick to your stomach.

'This wasn't done by a human'

"This was done by a Chimera Ant," Kite finished your thought.

The look on Gon's face scared you. Most of the time, Gon was a sweet boy on a journey to find his father. But sometimes, you could spot a festering darkness threatening to take over his very being. You knew he would never tolerate his friends getting hurt, but you couldn't help but wonder if Gon was self-sacrificing, or perhaps selfish?

"I hate to consider the possibility, but it's possible that NGL's underground rulers have already been fed to the queen. What will happen if Chimera Ants are born with their genes..?" Kite trailed off, studying one of the bullet casings in the murder scene.

An unprecedented biohazard never seen before in human history, is what that meant. The worst-case scenario had just happened.

⋯✰⋯

That wasn't the last disturbing scene the four of you came across. In front of you now were three decaying horses, each speared through the stomach by its own tree. They resembled grilled chicken and steak kebabs.

The scent was even worse than the last incident. This time, they were rotting. Killua and you both covered your noses, in an attempt to block out the stench.

"It's like a morning sacrifice," Gon stated.

You remembered what that was. Back at home, sometimes birds would impale their prey on sharp objects like branches. It wasn't a pretty sight, but it was the circle of life. What kind of monster could do this to not just one, but three 1,000 ton horses?

Your question was answered quicker than you had hoped.

"Trash. Those are mine!" The monster in question growled as he stepped foot out of the dense forest.

He looked like an overgrown bunny, with wings of a bird, thick-ass thighs, and seaweed green hair. And as for the vibe he gave off? You could safely assume he was just a stupid man-child.

"Wow. You're ugly," you deadpanned.

"You wanna say that again little brat?" He snarled, making the first move and charging right after you.

You quickly dodged his attack, but not before he came in contact with your arm. That was gonna leave a bruise.

Kite activated his aura, temporarily distracting the bunny-monster. It seemed to have noticed the change in atmosphere.

No way...was it possible? Had it already learned about the power of nen?

"Y/N, Gon, Killua... You three must deal with him yourselves. We'll be encountering more Chimera Ant soldiers like him. I won't be able to help you during combat, so if you can't defeat him, you will have to leave." Kite stepped back from the fight.

You nodded, Gon and Killua mirroring you. The three of you understood what hung in the fate of this fight.

"We told you before Kite, we're pros, not just kids!"

In sync, you all activated your nen together.

"Did you hear that bunny? I'm about to blow off those weird speedos of yours into the next dimension." You raised your hand in front of you, manipulating the wind to blow him away with every step that you advanced.

Killua was already in the air, prepared to test his thunder-bolt. In a flash of blue, dozens of lightning strikes were being zapped into the ant, immobilizing him. Gon's charged punch was enough to send him flying across the sky.

You saw his tail-puff shrink and sparkle in the distance as he was about to disappear, until something fast and unidentifiable swept him away.

Someone had been watching.

"He let his soldier do the fighting so that he could learn our abilities," Kite explained while walking towards the three of you again.

Gon and Killua looked disappointed. You hadn't even gotten a chance to use much of your powers during that fight. If you had finished it off, would that have been enough to prove yourselves?

"Are you coming?"

You looked up at Kite.

"There's no need to feel down, your attacks weren't that bad. You just need experience now. If you wish to become stronger, this is a perfect opportunity... But if you aren't prepared, you won't be able to endure it. Whether we win or lose, hell lies ahead of us." Kite finished off, looking at each one of you in the eye with a resolute stare.

You knew that. Gon and Killua knew that also.

Even so, all three of you were prepared and eager to do whatever it takes to strengthen yourselves and help Kite save NGL.

⋯✰⋯

Kite looked serene as the light of the small campfire lit up his features. He and Gon had caught some fish for dinner earlier, while Killua and you set up camp. Now, you sat brushing arms with Killua, who was sitting next to Gon, who was huddled up close to Kite. The night was quiet, except for the cicadas singing in the trees and the thoughts running through you and your friend's minds.

There was a lot to think about.

Gon and Killua hadn't even been given the time to grieve over the loss of their past acquaintance, before being hit with the hard-hitting truth that the Ants were already evolving at a nightmarish rate. Nobody knew how many had gone missing or even more so been eaten. Yet everyone knew that the death count had already surpassed comprehensible numbers. Most likely, not everybody here would make it out alive.

But, the three of you consistently have proven the odds wrong. You held onto that fact like you held onto your pendant.

It reassured you.

It was obvious that the three of you had become inseparable over the past two years.

After you met Gon and Killua at Heaven's Arena, you'd never left each other's side.

Nobody would be going home without the other, because you had all found home within each other.

"Hey, Kite? What was your dad like?" Gon asked.

Kite looked up at the boy, surprised by the sudden question. Turning his eyes to the starry night sky, he exhaled a breath of cold air.

"I didn't know him. He disappeared when I was a child."

Gon hummed, waiting for Kite to continue. He knew that feeling too. It was an icy and empty feeling, not having a father figure in your life to guide you, praise you.

"I have very few memories of him, but they've all muddled together by now. Sometimes I can't tell if they're real or if I've convinced myself they are."

"....I think Ging would thank you."

This brought Kite's attention back to Gon.

"Thank me for what?"

"Well... You've been like a sort of mentor for me ever since we met, back on Whale Island. If it weren't for you, I would never have even become a hunter. Maybe I'm just a kid, but the past month it felt like I.. like I had a dad."

Your heart ached for Gon, who had been searching this whole time for his father in everyone he met and everything he saw. Gently, you placed your hand over his and squeezed it, wishing you could be of more comfort to him. Wishing you could turn back time and bring Ging back to his home, to Gon.

Kite's eyes softened as he looked at the boy, who offered a wobbly smile.

"Ging would be proud of you," he said, ruffling Gon's spiky hair.

That night, the glimmering moonlight had brought out your most vulnerable selves. You felt a honey-like warmth grow inside of you— a new member had just been added to your family. Killua seemed content, happy that his friend was smiling. And Gon's eyes matched the twinkling stars as he looked up to Kite like he was the most wonderful thing.

It was a special night. You knew deep down that you would treasure it, for a long time to come.

⋯✰⋯

[labyrinthof-fan-fiction]

Two Ships Passing in the Night {7}

Part 7

Series Masterlist

Spock x fem!Reader, Bones x fem!Reader

AOS

Summary: Through Jim’s planning, the Defiance and Enterprise are on shore leave, in conveniently, the same planet. It’s time for you to confront Leonard and Spock, or maybe for them to confront you.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who’s liking this, asking to be added to the taglist, you’re keeping me going, thank you for sticking with my nonexistent upload schedule! If you want to be added to the taglist, just let me know!

Warnings: Alcohol Consumption, Alcoholic Tendencies (let’s face it, Leonard has a drinking problem), swearing.

Word Count: 2,631

You sat on the bridge of the ship, fingers tapping on the arm rest of your chair. You had one week until you were meeting the Enterprise for shore leave and you were starting to wonder why you had agreed to this? And you were inevitably going to have two confrontations that you had been pushing into the deep recesses of your mind. Spock’s message had made you begin reflecting on the past years, when you were a part of Starfleet Academy, then the crew of the Enterprise. Leonard and you had become fast friends at the academy, even though you were on separate tracks. Jim had been your first friend within the Command group, his father’s reputation was a burden for him, but he was determined.

Being around Jim reminded you of a saying your mother had aways told you, “Surround yourself with great people and you will achieve greatness.” He was a good friend, but the first time you met Leonard something had clicked between the two of you.

“C’mon, it’s just going to be me and my roommate, you’d like him.” Jim said one Friday walking with you after class, giving your shoulder a bump with his.

“Jim, you cannot be setting me up with your roommate, I see enough of your ugly mug.” You retorted.

“I’m not setting you two up.” Jim said, holding his hands up, “I’m merely introducing two people.”

“That is exactly what someone who is trying to set up their friends would say.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He said, “But if you don’t want to just lock yourself in your room tonight, eight o’clock.” He winked and started trotting away from you.

You grumbled as you made your way back to your room. The day turned to night and you found yourself alone in your room. You roommate had pranced out of the room once her classes were finished. You sighed to yourself. “We have two choices.” You muttered. “Stay alone, and get sad, or go hang out with Jim.”You changed into your jeans and threw on a top, you weren’t too worried about your appearance, it was just Jim and his roommate. You walked to the bar, you entered and saw that the younger cadets had shown up in uniform, hoping that their position would get them laid.

You felt an arm wrap around your shoulder and looked to your right to see Jim. “You made it!” He said excitedly.

“I’m here.” You answered, shrugging out from under his arm.

“Let’s introduce you to Bones.” He said, leading you over to a table in the corner where a man sat. He had what seemed like a permanent scowl on his face and a glass of whiskey in front of him. Jim made introductions and motioned to the open seat next to ‘Bones.’

Not setting you up my ass. You thought to yourself as Jim made his way up to the bar. You looked over at the man next to you, “So, how’d you get the name Bones?”

The man chuckled, “Doctor Leonard McCoy, I made the mistake of opening my mouth the first time I met Golden Boy over there and now I’m doomed with a nickname.” He took a sip of his whiskey. “My ex-wife is the reason I joined. Told the kid that she had left me with just my bones, and my nickname was born.”

“And he’s been a sad sack of shit since.” Jim said, putting your drink in front of you. “So, what’s your roommate doing tonight?” He asked, eyes scanning the room.

You took a sip of the drink he had placed in front of you. “Uh-uh, she’s off limits.”

Jim pouted and glanced around the room, searching for someone to amuse him for the night. He clapped his hands together, “Alright you two, don’t cause too much trouble.” He got up from the table and made his way over to a girl at the bar.

“Jesus.” Leonard muttered, gently swirling the whiskey in his glass.

“Let’s drink to the poor girl’s health.” You said, holding your glass out towards him. A small smirk came across his lips as he tapped the glass against yours.

“Amen.” You both took a swig of your drinks and a silence fell between the two of you. “Look, I know Jim was trying to set us up and if you don’t want to be stuck at a bar with a sad divorcé, here’s your chance to run kid.”

You glanced around the room at all the cadets circling to find someone to take home for the night, and honesty, that just wasn’t too appealing to you. “Considering the prospects, I think I’ll take my chances with you. So what made you go into medical?”

Leonard’s eyes widened for a moment, surprised that you actually were willing to stay. “Well, I was between a rock and a hard place, but have always wanted to be a doctor, not necessarily on a star ship, but we take the jobs we can.”

Conversation flowed easily between the two of you, it was comfortable. You both lost track of time and the night was cut off by the bartender calling final call. You glanced at the man next to you.

“I guess that’s the end of the night.” He murmured. “How far away is your dorm?”

“Not too far.” You answered, standing up.

Leonard stood up, “Call me old fashioned, but I think it’s only right to walk you home, would that be alright?”

You smiled, “That would be fine.”

The walk was filled with more conversation, it was odd how easy it was to talk to him. When you arrived at your dorm you weren’t sure how to say good night to him. Leonard shuffled his feet before breaking the silence. “I had fun tonight, but don’t you dare tell Jim.”

You laughed, “Ditto.” You held your hand out to him. “Here’s to surviving friendship with Jim Kirk.”

Leonard chuckled and shook your hand. “Good Night.”

“Night.” You said as you watched his retreating back.

The next weeks your Fridays fell into a pattern, meet Jim and Leonard at the bar, watch Jim find someone at the bar, then make fun of the cadets in the bar. A quick friendship had formed between you and Leonard, Jim kept trying to nudge the two of you into more, but you both assured him that you were just friends. You were inseparable, almost irritatingly so to anyone who was around. And now you found yourself debating every moment you had with Leonard. The nights spent talking at the bar, then eventually the nights just talking in dorms, aboard the Enterprise. How you always sought him out when you were unsure or just needed someone. How no matter the hour or how busy he was, he had time for you. How he held you when you cried over Spock, how he stayed with you when you realized you were pregnant. How he promised to stand by you no matter what. How you needed him. God, you needed him like you needed air. And that’s when you realized, you loved Leonard McCoy. That damn snarky, surly doctor with a heart of gold, you loved him.

The week passed quickly and in what felt like no time you were beamed onto the planet’s surface. The planet Jim had chosen was basically a glorified resort, but an entire planet. Which was not a surprising choice for Jim.

“Captain.” You heard a voice greet from your left. You raised your eyes and saw Spock, you had to admit, this was the first time you think you had ever seen the Vulcan look a bit nervous.

“Commander Spock.” You responded in kind.

He paused for a moment, you could almost see the gears in his brain rotating to form the perfectly phrased response. “I was hoping that we might be able to talk?” His eyes moved down from your face to your stomach.

You closed your eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “I think that would be a good idea.”

“Jim said there’s a quiet restaurant around the corner if you would like to go there, or we could walk.” Spock answered, eyes never leaving you.

“Real food sounds great, we’ve grown tired of replicated food.” You answered a small smile on your face as Spock gestured in the direction of the restaurant and fell into step beside you.

Spock’s eyes met yours when you both had finished your meals, you knew this was going to be a heavy conversation. “So, what did you want to talk about?” You asked, knowing damn well what the man wanted to talk to you about.

“I know that the message I had sent you was sudden and after my reaction at the hospital, I’m grateful that you’re willing to speak with me tonight.” He began. “ I know that I have made mistakes and that my actions have hurt you. And I apologize for that.”

You saw the sincerity in his eyes. “I forgive you and I want to apologize for keeping the baby from you, for planning to keep it secret. It was a stupid idea, you have every right, I was scared. You have every right as the father to this child to be a part of their life.”

“I will only be as involved as you allow, I do not want to overstep.” Spock began, but you cut him off.

“You are his father, that means we are equal partners in this as parents. I will not restrict you from him.”

Spock’s shoulders relaxed, but still tension knitted his brow. “You need to know that I also care for you, but I cannot give you a romantic relationship, it would be a disservice to you. And I have already done far too many disservices to the woman who is the mother of my child.”

You bit your bottom lip and gave him a small smile, “That’s alright, I don’t think we were meant for each other in that way.”

He chuckled, “There’s that human optimism, I thought Jim was the only one who had it.”

“Where do you think I learned it?” You asked a laugh falling from your lips.

Spock shifted in his seat, preparing to bring up a part of the conversation that he was less than pleased to present. “I want you to know, in my opinion, I would not mind sharing fatherly duties with Leonard McCoy, he is a good man, he would be a good fatherly figure for a child. He might feel differently, but I do not mind.” You stared at the Vulcan, mouth gaping, he chuckled. “I honestly was surprised when we had our….time together. I had always assumed the two of you would be a couple.”

“Unfortunately, we can’t all be that perceptive.” You answered once you shut your mouth.

“I hardly believe that. From my observations of humans, you all seem blind to the obvious, at least when it comes to emotions.” He teased.

“And Vulcans are completely logical, all the time.” You said, nudging his knee with yours under the table.

“Always.” He answered, quirking his brow for a moment, causing you to laugh. He glanced over at the clock on the wall. “We should probably find our other halves, no doubt they’ve gotten themselves worked up in unnecessary worry.”

Leonard sighed, he had finally completed all the medical checks on the crew members for them to be allowed free on shore leave. Jim had commed him to tell him that the Defiance had arrived. He knew that it would take you some time to finish up your duties as Captain and remained on the Enterprise for a while longer. He changed from his medical uniform into his civilian clothes. He glanced at himself in the mirror, he looked tired, probably from staying up too damn late this week. He was nervous, the two of you hadn’t spoken for a while, aside from his updates about Jim’s antics and checking on your condition.

Once he was beamed onto the planet’s surface he glanced around, looking for you, and he saw you. Rather, he saw your retreating form, along side the silhouette of a science officer he knew too well. His heart sank into his stomach. You were going off with Spock, it made sense, he was the father of your child, and Leonard had guilted him into making amends of some kind with you. But nerves created a knot in the pit of his gut.

It was no secret to him that you had strong feelings for Spock, maybe out of a feeling of obligation Spock would extend some kind of companionship to you. He was brought back to his previous argument with Spock. She loves you more than she could ever love me. That sentence had worn on his mind for so long. Leonard had tried to shake that sentence from his brain, Spock had been angry, he had started having more emotional outbursts following the death of his mother and planet. Maybe he just was letting his emotions get the best of him, Leonard had scoffed at himself. While Spock’s emotions were occasionally showing themselves, there was always logic backing them, and one thing about Spock’s logic, he had no reason to lie.

Leonard’s feet carried him into a bar, he walked in and saw some crew mates milling about, Uhura was in a corner nursing a drink, a sullen look on her face. A knife twisted in his gut, if she was here, and Spock was with you, he tried to shake the dread from his mind. He ordered a double of whiskey and made his way over to her.

“Nice night.” He said, she raised her eyes to his.

She gave him a small eye roll and gestured to the empty seat across from her. She took a sip of the drink, “Nice night for our fates to be decided, and we aren’t in the room where it’s happening.”

Leonard swirled the whiskey in his glass. “He didn’t tell you anything?”

Uhura chuckled, “He told me he intended to have a conversation with her, not much more. Told me not to worry.”

Leonard took a sip of whiskey, “Don’t worry….. Seems pretty on par for a computer.” He muttered.

“He’s not a computer.” Uhura snapped.

Leonard lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Uhura sighed, “Why do you hate him so much?”

Leonard chuckled, “Isn’t it obvious?”

It was Uhura’s turn to laugh. “I want you to say in words, why you hate him.”

Leonard took a long swig of his whiskey. “Because he took the one person I love in this damned universe and tossed her aside like she was nothing.”

Uhura gave him a knowing glance, took another sip of her drink. The pair was nervous as time continued to pass, they both knew what you and Spock were discussing, but it was uncomfortable, your future in the hands of other people. Leonard lost count of the drinks, Uhura had kept the orders going. Leonard glanced up at the door for a moment and saw you walk in with Spock, Spock’s hand was pressed against the small of your back to maneuver you around the door. You were laughing as he lead you to the table. Leonard felt his stomach twist into knots and he took a swig of his whiskey, finishing the glass, his vision started to blur as you reached the table.

“Evening.” He heard Spock greet as he slid next to Uhura.

Leonard glanced up at you, his head started spinning. His eyes met yours. “Hey, darlin’.” He murmured, then the world went black.

Taglist:

@general-latino

@440mxs-wife

@cobe76

@elizabeththefandomgirl

@harry-potter-geek

[rhysand-vs-fenrys]

Do the same thing for Heaven Official's Blessing (use Maas characters to tell the story)!

Heaven Official’s Blessing // TGCF told using ACOTAR characters (Obviously there will be spoilers, read at your own risk)

TGCF is told in a non-linear form, with Books 1, 3, and 5 taking place in the present, and Books 2 and 4 acting as flashbacks. I will be telling the story in a pure linear format.

** I’m going to have to ask people to ignore shipping stuff for the sake of this. I matched characters based on their personalities, so things became kind of scrambled.

THIS WAS VERY VERY HARD TO WRITE OKAY

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful Crown Princess named Elain. She was completely beloved by her people not only for her looks, but for her kindness, warmth, and incredible talents. Whatever she put her mind to, Princess Elain would easily accomplish, and those who read fortunes often said she was born on an auspicious day and was blessed with unparalleled good fortune. 

Princess Elain’s father was fairly elitest and tended to ignore the common folk, but Princess Elain made it her mission in life to protect them and ease everyone’s burdens.

When Princess Elain was 17, the royal capitol held a parade to the king of the heavens, Helion. In this parade, an elite warrior dressed as the Divine Hero would actually spar with another elite warrior dressed as a Demonic Beast. The parade would circle the capitol as the two warriors fought, only ending when their stamina ran out and they were too tired to carry on. The more laps the procession completed before this happened, the more good fortune it would invite and the more honor to the god Helion. Generally the goal was around 15-20 laps.

On the third lap, as people clamored to see clearly the Hero and Beast battle, there was a horrible accident. A deformed child in the crowd, barely 8 years old at MOST, was knocked from his perch on a high wall and fell to his death.

As he fell, the Divine Hero abandoned their battle and leapt high into the air to  catch the poor child. Picture like wire work when I say “leapt high”, it counts more as minor flight.

In the rescue, the Divine Hero’s mask comes off and it is revealed to be none other than Princess Elain herself! The Divine Beast was Elain’s bodyguard, Cassian.

While the common people go FERAL for this beautiful Princess who saved a wretched orphan’s life, the royal priests are angered. They warn Elain that her actions are an insult to Helion, and she must repent to avoid his wrath.

Elain famously and simply replies that if a god would begrudge her saving a child’s life, then they are not worthy of becoming a god.

And in spite of the priest’s words, the heavens agree with Princess Elain.

The child Elain saved has half his head heavily wrapped in bandages, but Elain is not afraid of him. She cradles him in her arms and he is mesmerized by her face. Still, after someone tries to move the bandage to see his face, the child runs away and vanishes.

This child was Azriel.

Tamlin is Elain’s cousin. His mother was a royal lady who had a baby with an abusive brute, and she ended up dying in disgrace after being abandoned by him. Tamlin was therefore raised by Elain’s mother, and he is disturbingly obsessed with the glory of his Princess Cousin. He is also dangerously unhinged and violent.

Just a few days after the ruined parade, Tamlin is racing through the city streets in his carriage, whipping his horses raw and yelling that if he runs over anyone it is their own fault. He has no cares for anyones lives, and Princess Elain considers him a thorn in her side.

Princess Elain is out with her bodyguard, Cassian, and her personal servant, Lucien. They see Tamlin coming and no only is he driving dangerously, there is a bloody sack tied to the back of the chariot.

Elain and Cassian leap onto the carriage to stop Tamlin, while Lucien breaks the rope on the sack. Elain and Cassian take Tamlin into custody, knocking him out, and Elain is ready for Tamlin to be thrown into prison for his behavior.

She opens the bloody sack, and inside finds Azriel. Tamlin was so incensed that the royal priests were angry with Princess Elain that he decided to kill Azriel to “avenge” his cousin!

Elain brings Azriel to the royal palace to be healed by the physicians within. He has broken bones and cuts all over his body, but again he strikes out if someone tries to move the bandages on his face. For his part- Tamlin is locked in his rooms and his carriage is destroyed, he is banned from leaving the palace.

But once again, Azriel slips out and runs away.

A few months later, black clouds swirl over the Royal Palace, and in a massive thunderclap, Elain ascends to the heavens as a newborn Warrior Goddess. Though by the laws of the heavens she cannot enter her kingdom for one thousand generations (to make sure she doesn’t give favors to the families of old friends), her father and his people build 10,000 temples in her name, several with massive statues of pure gold.

Goddess Elain brings Lucien and Cassian to the heavens with her, to help her in her duties as a god. She must intercede when appropriate (if there are demons or ghosts attacking people) and answer prayers. Despite the ban, she likes to sit on the altars of her temples, invisible, and listen to the prayers of her followers.

Elain doesn’t like the wealth and splendor of her temples, she wishes people would not bow, and just wants things to be simpler. 

After a few years as a goddess, while wandering her city, she notices a crummy old shrine tucked into a forgotten alley. It is roughly made, with only a flower and a bun on the offerings table.

She watches this little but clearly loved shrine for a long time, and notices that it is tended by an 11 year old boy. He is homeless, cold, malnourished, and had bandages wrapped around half his face. Rather than eat what food he manages to get, he puts it on the offerings table to Elain, only taking a few rotten fruits or moldy buns for himself.

Elain hates to see this- the boy is so desperately starving and yet he leaves food for a goddess who has no need for it. Bullies come and destroy the boy’s shrine. He is beaten by them, but when it is over he only fixes her shrine back up, and curls in a ball beneath it to sleep.

Elain feels that this boy is more sincere in his devotion than those who leave gaudy offerings at her temples, so she leaves the boy some food, a blanket, a straw mat, and some food. When he wakes he knows it was the goddess who heard his prayers, and he is delighted.

She does not realize that this boy is Azriel.

Elain’s country becomes embroiled in a civil war. Elain breaks the rules of the heavens outright and tries to end it before it begins by helping refugees of a horrible drought. She is kind to one refugee, taking on mortal form and helping him bury his son’s body, which he brought to the capitol to show the king of how severe the people’s suffering is. Her father didn’t care, and would not see the poor man.

Elain’s attempts to stop the refugee situation from becoming a civil war as the capitol refuses to send aid go nowhere, and in the end the war begins. She feels she has no choice but to openly step out as a Goddess of War and take the side of the capitol, where her parents still rule. Her heart aches at fighting the common folk, and she is still trying to end the drought in their homeland, but war is inevitable.

During the war, Elain meets a young soldier of only around 15. He is brave and good with a sword- though she advises a saber would suit him better. Though he is too young to really fight, she keeps him by her side. Together they witness the desperation of the refugees, whose leader- the man who she helped bury his son- summons a horrible demon.

Amarantha- a monster who always wears a mask that is half crying, half laughing.

Amarantha calls forth a plague that rips through the capitol. Elain realizes that the only ones who aren’t becoming infected with this plague are the soldiers and criminals- anyone who has taken a life. She realizes if others figure it out, the whole world will be consumed in blood as everyone tries to kill one another for immunity.

Elain’s favorite soldier is removed from the army by Lucien’s command, outing the boy as too young. Azriel is once again thrown aside- not that Elain realized it was him.

Meanwhile Elain, heartbroken at the suffering of her people, makes the ultimate decision: she saves her parents, but leaves the capitol to die and fall. If the refugees- now rebel army- kill everyone inside the capitol then the disease won’t spread (since soldiers would do the killing), and no one would ever know what the cure was. One city to save the world.

Helion knows the Goddess Elain’s heart was in the right place, but her intercession not only failed to stop the war, she made it worse. He is forced to put a Cursed Collar on her, stripping her of all her powers as a goddess. However, instead of her becoming mortal again, Helion gives her an immortal body.

Elain, after all, was only seventeen when she ascended and now could be counted in her twenties. Young by any standard. She is a good person, so Helion grants her the immortal body believing that some experience in the world will help her learn. With time and dedication, she can ascend once again to be a goddess, and he will remove the Cursed Collar.

Lucien and Cassian descend with her.

But her confidence has been shattered. To keep the royal family hidden, they are forced to perform tricks on the streets for meager coins, do manual labor (including on monuments insulting and demeaning the Goddess Elain), and are constantly on the run from members of the new government’s army who are hunting the King and Queen mercilessly.

Eventually, Lucien tells Elain and Cassian that it is simply too much, he’s sick the struggles, and leaves to take care of his own mother. Cassian and Lucien always hated one another and bickered nonstop, but this is the ultimate betrayal. If Cassian could kill Lucien with his bare hands, he would.

Elain becomes paranoid and terrified that Cassian will leave her too. She has no possessions of worth- they’ve all been pawned- but she has a single golden belt left. The mark of a heavenly official. A reminder of what she was and what she must work towards becoming again. She gives it to Cassian, for its value is very high, as a way to beg him to stay.

Soon after, Elain finds a shady merchant selling lanterns she realizes are lit not by fire, but by little flame spirits- remnants of souls that should have been allowed to rest in peace. These spirits were taken from the battlefields around the royal capitol, her soldiers. Elain manages to use a few meager coins to buy them, and goes about releasing the spirits.

One small flame spirit will not leave. It tells Elain that it cannot move on, because its beloved is suffering and it must watch over them always so they will not be alone. Idealistic and lovely, but Elain is too disheartened to feel anything by cynicism towards such words. 

She leaves the little spirit- Azriel, who had snuck back onto the battlefields after being removed from the army and was cut down.

And then the king falls ill.

Elain is desperate for coin to help make things easier for Cassian (who is earning most of the money now) and to buy medicine for her father. Everything she tries fails, and, utterly at her wits end, she is forced to try her hand at robbing.

Though Elain is too horrified to actually rob a man, she chases after him and runs afoul of several junior heavenly officials who recognize her. She begs them not to tell anyone, and flees. They swear they won’t say a word. 

Elain returns home, and she’s terrified of what she almost did for money. She decides to leave, going to find a mountain with good spiritual energy to meditate and hopefully make progress back towards gaining the merits to become a goddess again.

As soon as she arrives thirty-three heavenly officials come to train on the mountain, as such a thing can even help gods advance among their own ranks. They bully Elain, and eventually mock her for trying to rob the man (those junior gods were assholes and didn’t keep their word). 

What’s worse- Lucien is among them. He didn’t go back to care for his mother, he abandoned Elain to become a god once again, a junior in the service of another (not a path Elain can take since she was once a full goddess). He helps chase Elain away.

That little flame spirit- Azriel- is there to witness the humiliation.

Elain flees in tears, running down the mountain until she collapses, sobbing. When she is left staring at the ground, a hand appears to help her up- Lucien. Elain slaps his hand away and screams at him, and leaves.

When she arrives home, Lucien is there with sacks of food and medicine for the King. He tries to explain that he only left to return to the heavens- betraying one master to go to a new one- because he knew he could use the position to get food and such for Elain, Cassian, and the King and Queen. 

Elain screams at Lucien to go, throwing the sacks of food at him. Cassian takes Elain’s side, and Lucien lets slip that Elain tried to rob for money. He doesn’t know Cassian didn’t know, and Elain is thrown even further into despair.

More time passes, once again the money and food and medicine run out. Elain starts seeing figures around her where there is nothing- the figure of Amarantha all in white with that horrible mask. Her own robes are sometimes replaced with Amarantha’s, and she is slowly driven mad.

At the absolute edge of sanity, Elain feels a summons drawing her into the woods. She follows it, even when ghostly flames try to block her path and stop her from advancing, and ends up in a ruined temple. A ruined temple that was once hers. The divine statue has been destroyed.

Elain sits on the altar and waits, knowing Amarantha will show up to claim her.

Over hours, people trickle into the temple, and lured by a mysterious summons even they don’t consciously remember following. When there are 100 people inside, wild howls come from around them and crazed figures appear, all infected with the plague that destroyed Elain’s kingdom.

They fall back into the temple and Elain seals the door. She is grabbed by Amarantha, bound, and Amarantha holds her up on the altar by her skull. Amarantha tells the people what Elain was so scared of anyone finding out:: that the plague can be cured if the person is a murderer. Amarantha helpfully explains that Elain cannot die, but if they land a blow on her that would be fatal on another, it counts. To demonstrate, Elain is run through.

The pain is horrible, and when the next person picks up the sword and stabs her, she screams. A white flame spirit enters the building, the one who tried to stop Elain from coming in the first place. Amarantha captures it to play with (torment) as the villagers line up.

No matter how much Elain screams, they stab her. Some slash her throat, so that she can no longer make a sound. She is trapped in her body as it is mutilated and wrecked, staring up at that flame spirit and imagining she can hear it screaming at what is being done to her.

People stab her two or three times, just to be sure they landed a would-be-fatal hit and unable to tell what they are stabbing as she ceases to look even human anymore. Just a pile of ruined flesh spilled across her own altar. Even her face is destroyed.

That flame spirit- Azriel- screams out with every stab, until he can’t take it anymore and loses his sanity. He explodes in a wall of flame that turns all the humans inside the temple- and the infected outside- into ash. Above the skies roil, marking the birth of a particularly dangerous spirit.

Elain lays in agony as her body slowly knits back together. She is dazed as she stumbles away from the ruined temple. Traumatized beyond the brink of insanity. What was done to her horrifies her, and she feels only rage and grief. She was a Goddess, and now not only is she living in squalor and humiliation and degradation, she was attacked by humans for no reason other than personal gain. Not an ounce of kindness shown to her as they hacked at her body.

Elain sees Amarantha, who wants to take her as a disciple and raise her to wreak vengeance against the world. Elain flees.

When she gets home, two weeks (or months, the translation is inconsistent) have passed. Cassian has kept the king alive and the queen has been beside herself. She swears she will never chide Elain again, just please don’t leave.

None of them know what happened to her body. None of them can understand. Elain is sick and tired and broken. And she knows the worst will pass sooner or later- Cassian will abandon her just like Lucien did. Leave her in disgust. She can’t bear thinking about his friendship turning to hate, so she attacks him. She rips him apart with the worst words she can muster, until he leaves in disgust.

You can’t fear something that already happened.

Elain locks herself in her rooms and ignores even her mother’s pleading to come out.

When she wakes, she bathes. She has to go and try to find coin again, but cannot find the bandage she uses to cover half her face and hide her identity (since, you know, as a disgraced goddess her face is everywhere). The house is too quiet, and when Elain opens the doors to her parents room, she finds out why:

With the king’s health failing, and the humiliation of being deposed and on the run, living in squalor, he has lost all hope. Her mother won’t be left behind, and she knows her life is a burden on Elain’s as the fallen goddess tries to care for them.

So the king and queen have hung themselves. Elain carefully takes down their bodies and tries to hang too, but of course this immortal body- a gift from Helion himself- cannot die.

The hangman’s noose has absorbed two lives, and was used in incredible grief by a goddess herself. It is imbued with the love Elain’s parents felt for her and their tragic desire to die as a way to help them. The cloth comes to life, sort of like a snake meets a puppy, but when not in use, it wraps around Elain’s wrist as if her arm were injured.

At the king and queen’s deaths, whatever is left of Elain shatters.

She goes to the battlefields outside the dead royal capitol, her home, and wakes the souls of her people. Millions, all killed in battle or in the plague. She screams to them all, demanding to know if they hate. On her face is the white mask of Amarantha- half crying, half smiling.

And thus, the White Clothed Calamity is born. A twin to the White No-Faced demon (Amarantha).

The souls appear as black smoke that floods into Elain’s blade- the one that was used to mutilate her body. All that hatred condensing.

And in front of Elain appears the form of a soldier. Also wearing a mask. A particularly powerful resentful spirit on his way to becoming a demon.

Not that Elain would recognize Azriel even if she could see, so consumed is she by her hatred and wrath.

Elain takes those souls to the new royal capitol to kill the leader of the rebellion- that man whose child she helped bury. The man who rained hell down on all.

But he’s dead. Killed by the plague. She can’t even take her revenge right.

So Elain goes next to the lands ravaged by that drought, the whole reason for the civil war in the first place. The very city she tried to save as a goddess to stop the war from starting. She drops from the sky, impaled by the black sword. She has given herself three days.

Three days for a single soul to show her an ounce of kindness. If none do, she will unleash those souls and the plague will begin again as the hateful spirits infect body after body until the world runs red with blood.

No one helps her. Not until the third day, when a man trips over her body, cusses her out, and then feels bad for losing his temper. Right as the sun sets on the third day, he takes off his bamboo hat and offers it to her, to protect her from the rain.

A single act of kindness.

But it’s too late. The souls trapped in the sword explode into the sky.

Elain tries to tell the gathering crowd to pick up her sword and just stab her. She’s resigned to being hacked to death again and again if it will save even a single person from what she unleashed in her wrath and grief.

But no one is willing to hurt her. Not even to save themselves, and not even when she is begging them to. Unlike the group in the temple, who attacked her for themselves even when she begged them to stop.

So Elain does something painful and horrible- she raises the sword and draws all those hate-filled spirits into herself. It could very well destroy her, and the pain is worse even than being stabbed, but she will do it. If she can even save one person to undo her own mistake, she’ll do it.

But that second soldier appears again, the one who stood across from her on the battlefield.

He takes the souls into himself. Elain absorbs 300. He takes a million. It destroys him utterly- that kind brave man giving his soul, extinguishing himself forever- just to help her right a wrong.

But Azriel didn’t die. He was blown apart by the power, and re-formed bit by bit later on to become a Wrath-level (tier 3) ghost.

Helion descends from the heavens to meet Elain. Yes, she nearly did something unforgivable, but she was willing to destroy herself to right the wrong. For this- and all her suffering- Helion wishes to bring Elain up to the heavens once again as a goddess.

Her wrath extinguished, her spirit broken, Elain refuses his offer. That poor man’s soul was destroyed (seemingly) because of her. Someone suffered for what she did. She wants to atone, and atone for those one million souls she roused rather than helping them lay at rest in peace.

Elain asks Helion to put a new Cursed Shackle on her. This time not one that banishes her spiritual powers. Once upon a time she met a small boy she saved from falling. She was told she had infinite fortune, well above a normal person’s, but that child’s fate was endlessly dark and wretched.

Elain asks for a shackle that destroys her luck. That takes all of her good fortune and shatters it. Fortune is something that ebbs and flows through the world, by removing all of hers, that luck will be redistributed, and could bring good to the lives of others.

But an offer to return to heaven was granted, so Helion and Elain come up with a little show to explain away the new curse shackle without Helion appearing to punish a goddess who has done no wrong:

Elain ascends, as offered, and storms through heaven, hacking at the bodies of gods and challenging Helion himself. It becomes known famously as her Second Ascension, which lasts all of 10 minutes before she is fitted with a new cursed shackle and hurled form the heavens.

Elain’s life will be wretched, luck-less, and full of strife. Nothing she ever tries will go right. it is a life that would shatter the spirit of anyone. But for Elain, every misfortune means someone else has better luck than they should have. Every harm she suffers means someone else is blessed. She is atoning for what she did, and that makes her happy. She still mourns the soul of that boy who was destroyed, still lives in repentance of that, but she is atoning for her crimes.

During this time, that boy- now a Wrath Level Demon- finds he cannot loose. All the good fortune lost by Elain is funneled into him, and it is impossible for him to not get what he wants. He enters the Demonic Kiln and is re-forged as a Supreme (highest level) Demonic King. His weapons are the Silver Wrath Butterflies- a form he grants to those million souls he swallowed to help Elain.

He wears around his finger a red string, one of the ones that had bound him to that ghost lantern as a little flame spirit, a red string of fate that promises he will find his way back to Elain one day.

Azriel walks into the heavens and challenges thirty-five gods-- those who humiliated Elain on the mountaintop plus Cassian and Lucien, her hateful servants who abandoned her.

Cassian and Lucien refuse the challenge, but thirty-three gods take Azriel’s challenge--- 

He kills them all.

Not only does he humiliate them in front of their worshippers, he destroys 10,000 of their temples in a single night. One temple for every one of Elain’s that was destroyed when she fell as a goddess. Without worshippers or temples, the gods fade from existence.

Until, 800 years later, the heavens explode. Godly palaces are destroyed (including those of Cassian and Lucien, who are now full gods), the infrastructure shatters, and when the smoke clears there is Elain. A goddess once again. Except instead of being a goddess of war, she is a goddess of misfortune and junk.

To atone for accidentally ruining so many palaces (though she had no power over the size of the boom when she ascended, it corresponds with power), she goes to the mortal realm to solve a mysterious haunting.

The moment she arrives, she finds a silver butterfly following her and is enchanted by it. The butterfly vanishes, and as soon as she steps into the haunted forest a man in red appears, takes her hand, and gently leads her through a blood-rain, destroys barriers that would have kept her contained, and delivers her safely to the lair of the creature she is hunting.

From then on, Azriel is never far from her side. He has hunted for Elain for 800 years. The beautiful princess he fell in love with as a child, and met time and time again without her realizing it. After their second adventure together, Azriel gives Elain a diamond ring to wear around her neck.

If a ghost’s ashes are destroyed or scattered, they die. Elain doesn’t want this to happen to Azriel, who has made himself an enemy of heaven. Azriel only tells her that his ashes are safe, and if their hiding place is ever destroyed or if they are cast away, he has no will to exist any more anyways.

His ashes are contained within that diamond ring, imbued in the stone itself. 

Elain doesn’t know why the gods hate Azriel so much, he is warm and kind to her (though admittedly cold to others). Azriel accompanies Elain obediently on many adventures, though every mystery they solve they run afoul of one heavenly official after another.

Elain starts to realize there is a rot in the heavens. So many gods with so many horrible secrets. 

Elain and Azriel invade the home of a particularly evil ghost- the Green Demon. Tamlin. After Elain’s fall from grace he went mad, his obsessive feelings towards her turning from admiration to hatred. It was Tamlin who commissioned all those statues of Elain in humiliating and degrading positions. Tamlin is a cannibalistic evil ghost, though lower than Azriel in power.

He quickly takes possession of the body of a man with a small child and refuses to leave, so Azriel cannot even kill him without Elain being angry. 

Realizing something is rotten in the heavens, Elain makes her base a rundown cabin barely standing. She lives there with Tamlin as her prisoner and Azriel as her constant companion. That child becomes a noose around Tamlin’s throat- endlessly obedient and loving towards his “father” (whose body Tamlin cannot leave or else Az will kill him). Bit by bit, Tamlin’s cruelty starts to fade (though he’s never really nice per-se, it’s just that he likes the kid).

On her journey she is joined by Nuala and Cerridwen- two low level gods in the service of Lucien and Cassian, who hate one another as much as their masters do. Their masters also hate Elain with a burning passion, so Nuala and Cerridwen help her in secret.

Out of courtesy, Elain pretends that she doesn’t know Nuala and Cerridwen are only Cassian and Lucien in another form, trying to atone themselves for abandoning her so long ago.

As Elain, Azriel, Cassian, and Lucien go on adventure after adventure the crimes of the heavens are unearthed one after another- from a god who killed humans to hide his own crimes to another who worked black magics to steal the good fortune of a man about to ascend to a god and attached it to his unwitting brother, leaving the man’s family to be raped and murdered while his brother enjoyed the divinity that should never have been his, to another god who tortured a mortal to death just for fun.

They start to realize too that Amarantha- who vanished from the world when Elain refused to release her curse- has been close by all along. 

For the Demonic Kiln that forges Ghost Kings- that imbued Azriel with so much power- was born of a horrific tragedy 2,000 years ago in which Amarantha’s entire kingdom fell around her.

A tragedy which Amarantha turned into an opportunity- she raided the heavens, slaughtered all of her fellow gods and changed her form.

And as new gods rose, she placed herself upon the throne with this new face--

as Helion.

Elain, Azriel, Cassian, Lucien, and all of their new friends must work together to destroy Helion, find the true King of Heaven, and restore balance to the world before Amarantha plunges it all into chaos and destroys everything Elain loves.

The only one powerful enough to stop Amarantha is Elain, but with her luck sealed away and her powers still stifled by the Cursed Collar, it is up to the Demonic Realm to save the Heavens above before the mortal world is destroyed.

Azriel already died for Elain once. To see her smile freely once again, he’d die a million deaths more. No matter the hardships, this boy who has followed his princess for 800 years will follow her to the ends of the earth and beyond.

And their growing love might just be enough to tip the tides of war in their favor. King Azriel will always find a way to his Elain. Not even a two thousand year old Demonic-King of Heaven can stand in their way.

[wheres-everyone-going-bingo]

Alright imma just throw a concept out there, good sexy orc/uruk hai reader tops Legolas. I'm just saying, if there were good boi versions 👀

Night Watch

Pairing: Legolas x Uruk Hai Male Reader

Warnings: smut

——————-

The campsite smelt foul, not only did it have the stench of orcs but it was accompanied by the smell of burning flesh of an orc who stood out of place. We had been on the trail of the fellowship for a few weeks now, finally catching up to them when they rested in a clearing in the woods. The party had split up, trying to escape, but our numbers had overpowered them. Now they sat tied to an old oak tree. I wasn’t a stranger to killing, I had done it many times. However I had done it in self defense, I didn’t see the honor in tracking down, and killing a group of people trying to better the world. I wasn’t on board with Sauron’s rule, it sounded like hell.

I stood from my seat on the ground, heading towards where we kept our food. Opening the sack I was greeted with various pieces of bread, and a few stashes of rabbit. I picked out my rations, turning to glance at the fellowship, I tried to remember the last time they had eaten. My mind came up blank. I grabbed a few extra pieces of food, making sure no other orcs saw me.

The elf noticed my approach first, he tensed up, warning the others of my presence. I gave them a smile, trying to be as comforting as possible, but judging by the smallest hobbits reaction, it didn't work.

“What do you want, orc?” The dwarf spat at me, I grimaced at the harshness in his words.

“I uh, just noticed that my tribe hasn’t fed you since your capture” I replied, revealing the food in my hands. They all eyed me with suspicion as I placed the food next to their hands.

“It’s poisoned isn’t it?” The dirtiest looking human asked, obviously not seeing my good intent.

“Look, I know that I’m an orc, it’s obvious. However I would appreciate it if you thought to yourself that maybe all of us aren’t bad. It’s impossible to have an entire race with rational thought, and for all of them to be evil, some of us think for ourselves” I spoke to them, desperately trying to get my point across. They stared at me, watching my every move with caution. I sighed, noticing their stubborn distrust in me. “Fine, I see you don’t trust me, but you either die of ‘poison’ or starvation” I muttered, walking away from the group.

“He does have a fair point” Boromir offered, picking up his food to examine it.

“I’ll try it” Legolas spoke up, willing to put his life on the line for his friends. Legolas brought the bread to his mouth, taking a small bite. Everyone looked at him intently, waiting for him to drop dead or something. He then took another bite, not realising how hungry he was until now.

“It is settled then, we shall eat” Aragorn said, taking a bite of his food. The fellowship watched the strange orc intently for the rest of the night, noting how he kept to himself.

The sun rose along with the orc warriors. However this morning was more chaotic than usual, a fight had broken out among the tribes. The Snaga had gotten out of line and questioned my people, resulting in a massive fight. I made sure to stay hidden, not wanting to get involved in the bloodshed. I noticed a gangly Snaga creeping towards two of the hobbits, licking his lips as he drew his knife.

“Please don’t eat us!” Pippin pleaded, eyes wide at the rusty blade in the orc’s hand

“Yeah! We’re only skin and bone!” Merry added, as the rest of the party struggled against their restraints, trying to save the pair. The orc raised his knife, ready to stab Merry. He let out a horrible squeal as blood rushed from a stump where his hand used to be. Everyone’s eyes turned to me as I held my sword, now stained with the Snaga’s blood.

“You! You cut off my hand!” He snarled in fury, clutching the stump close to his chest.

“Yes, now run away before you lose your head too” I warned, pointing my sword at him, he took the hint and scurried off in fear. “Are you okay?” I asked the hobbit, scanning him with my eyes to make sure he wasn’t wounded.

“I, uh, yes, I think so” He responded, mouth agape. I nodded, kneeling down, bringing out my knife to cut the rope that was tying them to the tree. The rope gave up, falling to the ground in pieces.

“You should go, while everyone is distracted” I advised them, handing them their stuff. The group got to their feet, taking all of their stuff and equipping it. They started to walk away quietly until one of them stopped, turning to me.

“What about you? Surely they’ll kill you” Legolas questioned, worried about my well being

“They most likely will, yes, but I’m okay with that” I smiled at him, walking back towards camp.

“Wait!” I felt a hand on my arm “Come with us? We could use someone of your strength and you know the enemies plan” Legolas pleaded with me, not letting go of my arm

“We are not allowing him to come with us!” Boromir exclaimed, looking shocked at the very idea

“Are you daft, elf? He’s an orc! He’ll kill us” Gimli tried to reason, not forgetting what terrible things orcs had done to his bloodline.

“They don’t want me to come, majority rules” I smiled at the elf, grateful for his concern, however his grip only tightened.

“You do not have to come with us all the way, but please, come with us, come with me” He begged, I sighed, nodding my head, knowing that he was too stubborn and every second more we spent at the camp, would put them in even more danger.

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

It had been a few weeks since that day at the camp. The group, especially the dwarf, did not trust me at all at first but had slowly begun to warm up to me. The hobbits had shown their thankfulness of my rescue by putting together a cheerful song about ‘the orc with a heart of gold’. Although Legolas was not like the other party members. He did not engage in friendly sparring but instead rested his head on my lap when he found it hard to sleep, something about him was different.

I was supposed to be on watch tonight, but the others, besides Legolas and the hobbits, didn’t trust me to watch over their sleeping bodies, so they had Legolas stay up with me. We were discussing beautiful landscapes that we had come across in our travels, he had a lot more examples as Mirkwood was a lot prettier than Mordor.

“I love hearing you talk” I told him “You just have so many good stories, sounds much better than being an orc in Mordor”

“You know when this is all over, you can come live with me in Mirkwood” He offered, I scoffed at the idea

“An orc? In Mirkwood? I’d be killed on the spot��

“I won’t let that happen, I don’t care if my father disowns me and I’m banned from Mirkwood, I’m not going to let you go back to that life” He turned to me, his face dead serious. I grinned to myself, glad that he cared for me. “It’d be great, we could get a house together, I’d introduce you to elven traditions and foods, and we could even share a bed” He said the last bit quieter than the rest.

“You want to share a bed?” I asked, meeting his gaze.

“If you, uh, I mean, if you wanted to” He tumbled over his words, his face heating up.

“I’d like that” I told him, finding his embarrassed state very cute.

“What else would you like?” Legolas pried, leaning closer to my body

“A nice meal, to not be so cold, and avo have ukex wiavh lat” I admitted, saying the last part in orcish. Legolas tilted his head, not understanding orcish.

“What’s that last part mean?”

“avo have ukex wiavh lat translates to ‘to have sex with you’” I looked away, my turn to be embarassed. I heard Legolas chuckle next to me

“You’re not very subtle” He joked “But as long as we’re quiet we don’t have to wait for that” He whispered to me. I smirked, iking where this was going. Legolas crawled onto my lap, steadying himself by putting his hands on my shoulders. He rolled his hips, pressing down on me. I let out a primal snarl as I grabbed onto Legolas’ hips.

I pressed my lips against Legolas’ my tusks getting in the way slightly. I trailed my mouth down Legolas’ neck, biting at his smooth skin with my teeth. He gasped as I found his sensitive spot, quickly biting down on his knuckle, trying to keep quiet. My hands tugged at his pants, desperate to remove them. Legolas lifted himself off of me slightly, pulling his pants down.

I wrapped my rough hand around Legolas’ cock, giving it a few pumps as he bit down on his knuckles harder.

“Oh, please, take your pants off” Legolas breathed in my ear, clawing at my garment. I obeyed his request and tugged my pants down to my ankles.

Legolas put his fingers in his mouth, coating them in saliva. He started to push them in and out of his ass, putting on a show for me.

“I’m ready for you now” He purred in my ear, as he lined himself up with me. I let out a low guttural sound as he pushed himself down on me. He started to move, pushing himself up and down on me over and over. I couldn’t hold in my urge anymore and threw him to the ground, me on top of him.

I growled in his ear, roughly thrusting in and out of Legolas. The biting of his lips and concentration to be quiet displayed his pleasure. I started to growl and make animalistic sounds as I pounded the elf into the dirt. He started to swear in elvish nearing his release.

“Y/N, oh, I’m going to cu-“ he stuttered, losing control of his body’s movements. The feeling of Legolas’ body clenching around me was enough to push me to my orgasm. I came inside him, we pulled away from each other, looking around to make sure we woke no one up.

“Looks like we got away with it” Legolas whispered as we clothed ourselves.

“I’m glad, maybe we could do it again some time?” I offered, leading him back to the rock that we were sitting on.

“Yeah, let's do that” he smiled at me.

[sinitar-the-reborn]

I

The Living Complex YA-1 was called "a stack of cards" by its inhabitants, due to its packed and monotone structure. It was a concrete giant with 27 floors, seven apartments on each save for the first floor which served as the labour office of the district. The walls were so thick that, even in summer, the inhabitants of YA-1 had to wear warm clothes indoors. Those who were fortunate enough to have south-facing windows could not only enjoy a strong boost of Vitamin D from morning to afternoon, but also see the city of Chelovechanka in all its glory.

The city itself was planned with socialist values in mind, inspired by the brutalist pursues of the beloved human comrades. Chelovechanka was divided into grids, each grid operating as an almost self-sustainable organ. This organ was a symmetrical labyrinth of housing units (stacks of cards), parks, schools, ambulances and military barracks. The only facilities which were shared by all districts was the University of Sapient Conscience, the military hospital, and the spaceport. These were nested in the center of the city, emphasizing the symmetry of the snowflake-like structure of Chelovechanka.

"Priyel, baba. Uh!" A young man called from the hallway of YA-1's 12th floor. He announced his presence to the old Tymalian woman who was standing by the stove with a thick sweater draped over her shoulders.

"Priyel, priyel." You arrived, indeed. Her deep-set eyes lit up as she spotted two heavy bags of coal being dragged into the chilly two-room apartment. The small TV on the kitchen counter was blasting some soap opera, almost drowning out the huffs of the younger Tymalian.

"Eeeh, this will last you a while. One is from Xin's father." The boy said proudly as he hauled in the sacks, letting them rest by the door. His uniform, a deep blue overall, was almost entirely dirty. Even his youthful ruddy cheeks were smeared with soot; a sight which made the old woman chuckle.

"Come here, look at you." She stood up slowly with a handkerchief in her hand. "I thought my grandson was a civil servant, not a coal miner. I can barely recognize you, chek chek myjsya." She said, the archaic phrases making the man roll his eyes as she rubbed the handkerchief against his skin.

"Put your clothes in the washer. I will make you some tea." She said. The wish to feed the stove was unspoken but understood by the man. He immediately crouched in the corner where the metallic construct was settled between the soot-encased walls. He began to shovel out the coal with a halved plastic bottle, groaning in the process.

"What are you bickering about, Tyoma?"

"Nothing, baba. Just sore back."

"Sore back? You are just about to turn eighteen. I don't want to hear you talk like your father. You are better than that. Eh, Tyoma, Tyoma... back in my day, Tymalian men would carry entire logs without a complaint."

"Yes, but you also used to have electric heating and a functioning elevator." He wiped the snot from his nose as he kept squatting and shoving crumpled pieces of newspaper into the metallic mouth.

"Used to, used to. Yes, we all seem to live in the past. Even you, my little green bean. Did you know that during the technological revolution, everyone could affort a mechanical skeleton?"

He said nothing as he kept staring at the weak fire, fanning it with the plastic bottle. Once his grandmother began to reminisce, there was no use in stopping her.

"Imagine me, Tyoma. I was thirty, few hours after giving birth to your youngest uncle. The hospitals were full, it was during the explosion at the old community centre. They had to let me go as soon as Aust was bathed. They needed the bed. Without the exoskeleton, I couldn't have made two steps. But there I was, walking fast with Aust resting on my shoulder. Like I was some athlete! Eh, eh. Some things are not meant to be left to nature. Metal is just as good, if not better."

The young man was now listening to her as he watched the fire roar.

"Well, maybe I will get a pair of metal limbs myself someday." He stood up, wiping his hands. "Imagine how many sacks of coal I could haul then."

"I wish you would finally haul some decent woman here. All you do is spend your days with Xin. What about Elekasya? I like her a lot."

"Ah..." He felt his knees ache as he tried to take a step to the bathroom. On cold days, it felt like his bones was deteriorating. "Kasya is good, more than good. But perhaps I will sign the bond of matrimony with Xin. He's got the hips-..."

"Artyom!" A bundle of parsley smacked the young Tymalian on his head. "I am in no mood to deal with your foolishness today. Now go wash the soot off, or you will track it into the living room."

"Yes, baba..."

[edelwoodsouls]

it’s hard to get to heaven (with my head in my hands) - ch. 1

"Come on, Mark," Damien insists. "Not yet- there's someone we can't leave without." [or: Caleb is fifteen years old when he finds himself in Tier 5]

dedicated to @exhaustedwerewolf​ for putting up with my endless babble, especially the past few months <3

Word Count: 2,431 | Also on Ao3 | Other Chapters: N/A [currently]

Chapter 1 - Now I

Damien

"We can't leave yet."

Dr B's brother can barely stand, barely keep his eyes open - his face is thin and drawn with sweat, sunken and waxy in all the worst places, like a skeleton with skin stretched across its bones - and still he shoves Damien with considerable force as he begins to head for the exit.

"What?" Damien can't help the irritation itching in his voice. He can hear Dr B buzzing in his ear with increasing panic - it's starting to grate on his nerves, and he wants to be far away from here before she decides to grow a brain and call the AM on him.

He's not sure how many people he could manipulate at once, and certainly doesn't want to try to find out fighting his way out of this place.

"Come on, Mark," he continues, trying to lift the guy up - he's like a sack of rocks, suddenly rooted to the spot. "We don't have time for this - we have to go."

"No," Mark grits his teeth. He's clearly in pain, a breath away from falling, struggling against Damien’s desires though he doesn’t yet know it. "There's someone we can't leave without."

"As flattering as it is that you think so highly of my abilities already, even I can't face off this entire building. I can't organise a whole fucking prison break."

"I know." His eyes are wide and Damien can feel himself melting already. "But just one. Please."

Damn the Bright siblings.

"Fine. Show me."

Now that he's promised, Mark becomes a lot easier to move - but not much. He's barely holding his own weight as it is.

Whoever this other person is better not be in a coma, too, or Damien might just call it a day and leave them both to rot.

Okay, that's a lie. But what the hell can possibly be so special about one of the other prisoners here to warrant priority? Mark is leading him down a corridor lined with cell after cell, and Damien can sense countless minds - tangles of messed up wants and fears and needs - on the other side of the doors.

It makes him feel sick. It makes him feel as if that despair - their despair - is collecting like rainwater in the pit of his stomach, filling him steadily up. He wants to escape - they want to escape, and the want ricochets back and forth until it's a hammering against his skull.

He's about to give up when Mark stops. "Here," he says, nodding at a door that is no different to any of the others.

Damien leans Mark against the wall, grabs the keys he stole from the previous guard. As he reaches out for the door, he finds that awful need to flee vanish, replaced with a calm certainty. This is the right thing to do, he thinks, but the thought sits awkwardly inside him, rubbing rough edges against the rest of him.

He pushes the discomfort away. Just because you had an unselfish thought for once doesn't mean you need to have a breakdown, he tells himself, and the voice in his head sounds an awful lot like Dr Bright.

He isn't sure what he's expecting when he opens the cell door. A cute girl, perhaps. A guy Mark has made friends with - Dr B always said Mark imprinted on people like a lost puppy.

But of everything, he definitely isn't expecting the child hunched on the concrete floor. The strip lighting in the cell flickers on, illuminating the figure. He's dressed in the same drab uniform as everyone else, but it's loose, hanging awkwardly off his frame. His skin is a similar sickly pallor as Mark, shadows dragging at his eyes. The only individual flare is a spray of golden curls springing unruly from his head, falling over his face in an oddly shy, high school kind of way.

He's already staring at the door when Damien pushes it open, eyes narrowed and unsurprised.

Hm.

"Uh," Damien reaches unsuccessfully for words, "hey, kid."

Said kid ignores him entirely, eyes shifting to stare at - no, through - the wall beside him, where Mark is slumped. Can he see through walls? Detect heartbeats?

"This is a jailbreak," Damien continues, doing unenthusiastic jazz hands. "Let's go?"

"What did you do to Mark?" the boy asks - and he is a boy, seventeen at the most. Damien feels an uncomfortably sick feeling at the pit of his stomach.

"I'm breaking him out. Hang on, how did you-"

But the kid is already pushing up from the floor, rocketing past Damien without a word.

Damien stares into the room. It's small, just as sparse as Mark's room even though the kid definitely hasn't been in a coma for two years. There's a desk with nothing on it except an ipod without headphones - the wires a suicide risk, he guesses.

The bed is perfectly made - aren't teenagers supposed to be messy? Though he supposes the lack of anything else to do might make one tidy out of boredom.

He ducks into the room to grab the ipod - just in case.

When he emerges, the kid is checking Mark over with surprisingly gentle fingers, a look of utter concentration on his face.

There's something dark and brewing behind it that sets Damien on edge.

"Mark?" the kid's voice is surprisingly soft. Damien can't get a read on this kid, a bundle of contradictions swinging back and forth between two extremes. When he reaches out to feel the kid's mind, he finds a swirling hurricane of colour. Taking a single step feels like the winds will tear away his skin, his very being.

"Hey, Caleb," Mark murmurs, a laugh bordering on hysteria. "Long time, huh?"

"Yeah, come on. Let's get you out of here."

And just like that the kid - Caleb? - heaves Mark off the floor like he weighs less than a bag of feathers, holding him up effortlessly.

Damien tries not to feel self-conscious about how hard he was struggling only moments ago.

"Are we going?" Caleb stares fiercely at Damien, making eye contact for the first time, and suddenly the hallway feels too small. He can feel the fear of being trapped down here climbing his throat and strangling him. It makes the world slant in a blur of dizzying colour, the sudden onslaught rushing through his veins.

"Yeah," he chokes, all but stumbling in the direction of the exit. He wants to get out. "This way.”

~/~/~/~

Caleb

He emerges into sunlight for the first time in two years.

Isn’t it strange how you can forget things so vitally important? Things that kept you alive for sixteen years, kept you together and breathing?

Well, it isn’t so strange; he can’t remember the curve of his mother’s smile, the colour of his sister’s hair, the image of ink staining his father’s fingers. They are cartoon sketches in his head, placeholders where he knows real images should be.

Like the sun. The pain of it bright against his eyes feels like breathing for the first time in years. Stepping out of a grave back into his own skin.

Adam would say something about Persephone, or Orpheus. Caleb just grits his teeth and shoves the memory down.

He’d forgotten what it was to have that natural warmth against his skin, warmth not stolen from radiators or lukewarm cups of tea (they wouldn’t let him have hot drinks, just in case). He’d forgotten the soft yellow that wasn’t harsh halogen strip lights or flashing red alarms.

He’d forgotten the world had light and warmth at all.

Mark weighs almost nothing, as they hurry away from the building with surprisingly little fuss, even with all the muscle mass Caleb’s lost from loitering in a cell for two years. He feels the amber sparks of concern churning in his gut - and it’s almost nice.

He’d forgotten what his own emotions felt like, too, sitting inside of his chest. The last year has been a haze of grey populated with other people’s noise.

After a few seconds the emotions start to scratch against his skin. They don’t fit anymore, so unfamiliar with their home - so used to living in other people’s chests.

He reaches out blindly for someone else to latch onto. Mark - bright, familiar Mark, whose relief and bewilderment spill into Caleb instantly, like a dam being let loose.

Just for a moment, he’s adrift in a sea of green.

All too soon, that bliss is snatched away with the arrival of this new guy. He’s unfamiliar and conspicuously shady, wearing a black hoodie, his long dark hair pulled up in a loose bun. Yellow sparks across his skin like electricity, an acidic emotion somewhere between concern and suspicion.

Caleb doesn’t like how strong this guy’s emotions are, how they jump across the space between them without Caleb even reaching out, digging into his skin. How they tower over him like a skyscraper, a wave threatening to crash into him, wash away any sense of self he has fought tooth and nail to cling to these past few years.

Definitely a Class E. Some kind of manipulator.

Maybe someone like him.

“I’m Damien,” the guy says, brushing past him to open up the doors. “Let’s get going.”

And all of a sudden Caleb feels the urge, the need, to get going sink into his bones before he has time to think. He pulls Mark into the car, setting him down carefully into a seat as the other guy climbs into the front.

As soon as the wheels begin to turn, the tug in his gut vanishes, leaving behind only the ghost of a raw, exposed nerve. Like someone has cracked open his chest and scooped his organs out.

“Don’t do that again,” he hisses, surprised and pleased at how the threat sounds in his voice. He isn’t the child he was when he first came here; he’s learned from the best how to be dangerous.

He can’t help the sharp flash of power in his chest as he feels the flicker of shock roll off the other guy - Damien, what kind of name is that? - as their eyes meet in the rearview mirror.

“Most people take minutes - hours - to wear off the first time.”

Caleb says nothing, just glaring.

“No, seriously.” The car comes to a stop and Damien twists in his seat, reaches out and grabs Caleb’s wrist tight. The skin on skin contact burns like someone is scraping away the top layer to expose the flesh beneath. When was the last time someone - not a doctor taking his vitals but a real , human person - touched him? “What are you?”

“Angry,” Caleb snaps back. “So don’t fucking do that to me again.”

“Or what? What can you do?”

He isn’t going to rise to this guy’s goading, no matter how tempting it is. Not yet. As much as he wants to wipe the curious, hungry pool of red lapping at his heels away. As much as he wants to reach out and twist it into the bottomless silver of fear, the only colour he truly recognises as familiar anymore.

But he doesn’t have enough of the facts. Doesn’t know who this guy is, or why he broke Mark - and him - out. Doesn’t know what this world looks like, what he looks like, compared to before. He needs to bide his time.

Adam would be so proud of his restraint.

“Look,” he says through gritted teeth. “I appreciate the break out. But I don’t owe you shit.”

Damien’s hunger tints with anger - this is a guy who isn’t used to being told no.

Caleb feels that anger, that desire curl through the car, twist itself around his tongue. “I’m an empath,” he says, the words spilling out like they can’t wait to be free.

Damien’s emotions dull instantly with disinterest and disappointment. “Oh. Like you can feel other people’s emotions and shit?”

“And shit,” Caleb agrees, using what little is left of his own will to skirt around the truth.

“Disappointing.”

“I know.”

Damien’s desires evaporate slowly from the air, and Caleb breathes a deep sigh of relief, a weight lifting from his chest.

“What’s so important about you?”

Caleb blinks. “What?”

Damien’s eyes search his face, not pushing at him like before, just genuine curiosity. “I only came for Mark. But he wouldn’t let me leave without you.”

Something goes soft and warm inside Caleb - a deeply buried part of himself he tries to ignore. “We got stuck together a lot in there, before…”

The warm glow turns sour. Once Mark had vanished without trace and Wadsworth had lost her favourite toy, she’d needed a new plaything.

And after all, as she always told him, he was so special. Powerful. She’d taken a particular interest in his budding ability to affect others.

“Mark’s kinda like the older brother I never had,” Caleb shrugs, shoving away the dangerous rabbit hole his thoughts are spiralling into. Damien isn’t pushing his will onto him, but he still feels the truth rolling off his tongue unbidden.

“Hm.”

“What’s he to you, then?” Caleb reaches out, trying to tease apart the tangle of emotions Damien is giving off. “Why risk getting on the AM’s radar for one guy?”

He laughs bitterly. “I’m already on their radar, thanks to his fucking sister of all people-”

“His sister?”

“Yeah. Dr Bright.”

Caleb’s brain grinds to a halt. “Dr Bright?”

“You know her?”

“Dr Bright is Mark’s sister?”

“Uh, yeah. How do you not know that?” Confusion spills into the car, ricocheting back and forth between them.

“Mark’s last name is Bryant- fuck, of course it’s a fucking code name.”

He turns to look at Mark’s sleeping form with new eyes. It’s there, underneath the layers of trauma Tier 5 piled on top of him - in the curve of his jaw, the crook of his nose.

His former therapist is still ruining his life years after he last saw her.

“Can you just drive?” he asks suddenly. The need to flee sits between them like a bomb about to go off, a timer counting down, panic climbing his throat. He can’t think straight with those lifeless grey buildings still looming on the horizon.

“We’ll come back to this,” Damien says with a pointed look. “But sure, kid. I hate this place as much as you.”

“I very much doubt that,” Caleb laughs darkly.

He’ll be back soon, he promises himself, as that hell begins to vanish behind the trees lining the curving road.

He’ll burn the whole fucking place to the ground.

[iwrestlenow]

Many More To Die

TITLE: Many More To Die

FANDOM: Sanders Sides (Necromancer AU)

SUMMARY: For over a thousand years, necromancy has been forbidden in the Kingdoms, the Necromata--its practitioners--feared, reviled, and punished for a power they never asked to wield. Those Necromata who are not killed in the cradle are taken from their families, stripped of their Name--the core of identity and memory--and imprisoned for the rest of their lives.

Logan was twelve when he entered the palace dungeons. Prince Roman was fourteen when he witnessed the young necromancer being brutalized, imprisoned, and left to suffer.

Roman only wanted to offer the other boy comfort, and perhaps a scrap of dignity. He didn't realize his kindness would follow both of them into adulthood--or that Logan would one day become the only person in all the realms that Roman would be able to trust with his life, his heart, and his very soul.

SHIPS: Logince (Logan/Roman), future Moceit (Patton/Janus) and Dukexiety (Remus/Virgil)

WARNINGS: lots of death because necromancy, slash, and more to come as I figure it out ‘cause it’s late and I’m tired. Also, no betas, we die like men.

NOTES: This is based on the gorgeous piece of art by @gretacticdraws that can be found here. I ended up writing a ficlet for it, and then my brain got swallowed up. Breathe at me wrong, and I’ll write more...hell, who am I kidding? I’ll write more anyway because this? Is self indulgent drivel. XD

Also located at AO3 over here.

1023, A.A.

Necromata.

Sitting in the middle of his cell, twelve year old Logan...Logan choked on tears as his shoulder screamed, his bones ached, and the flickering lights of his cell let his imagination run wild with all manner of monsters and omens of doom lurking within every shadow.

He knew he was lucky—many necromancers were caught in the cradle and killed. Very few survived as long as he had. He could be grateful to his family for that much, that he'd lived long enough to escape a death sentence.

He did have a family. He knew that much—remembered that much. Everything else, they had taken before throwing him into his cell. The prison mage's hand was still a ghost of cold fire against his forehead, worms of icy coal burning through his brain to wipe out every trace of the things that would make him what he was, allow him to be more safely contained.

The name spoken with fear and loathing was all that he had left.

Necromata. The legions of the Animator...the necromancers.

“Psst!”

The hiss echoed off the stone in the corridor, made his heart leap into his chest as he looked around for the source of it.

“Psst! Over here!”

Logan tried to scramble back from the door of his cell, and screamed when he forgot about his dislocated shoulder, collapsing as it gave way under his weight.

“No, don't—please, it's okay. I don't want to hurt you.”

Blinking, Logan squinted into the low light beyond the torches that barely lit his new home. Something bright green flickered there, an outline visible that was vaguely person-shaped.

“Who...who are you?” he asked, curling his injured arm as close to his body as he could so he wouldn't forget again as he got to his feet.

“I...I'm not supposed to say.”

Logan shuffled a little closer to the bars of his cell. “Then how do I know you don't want to hurt me?”

“The prison mage took your Name—you won't understand if I tell you. Just...”

The person-shape on the other side of the bars moved forward, an arm protruding through to set a bowl on the dirt floor of Logan's cell. Inside there was water, and sitting across the rim was a heavy piece of leather.

“I saw what the guard did when you came in. Your shoulder...it happened to me once when I snuck out to hunt for the Lazari.”

“The Lazari don't exist.” Logan replied, reaching up with his good hand to try and wipe some of the tears and snot off his face. “They're a fairy tale, like the Animata.”

“How do you know?”

Logan opened his mouth...then closed it after long moments.

“I...I don't know.” he admitted. “I must have lost it when the prison mage took my Name.”

“Then you could be wrong.” the person-shape insisted, those emerald flecks in the near shadow sparkling with determination. “I'll find a Lazari one day. Just you wait.”

“What does that have to do with my dislocated shoulder?”

“Oh! Sorry—uhm, I did it once. When I snuck out, I fell from a tree and mine popped out. My brother showed me how to use the bars on our window to pop it back in! I threw up, though—and he made me bite a belt so I wouldn't scream.”

The hand appeared between the bars again, nudging the bowl and the leather strap forward a little further.

“I can tell you how to do it.”

Logan shuffled forward a couple more steps, then shifted to kneel in front of the bowl of water.

“I...might know.” He replied, staring at the bowl for a long moment before he peered back into the dark, into the green spark that was his benefactor's eyes. “Thank you.”

The person-shape said nothing for a long moment...

“Berry.”

“What?”

“Berry! The guards called you Logan, right? They took your Name—maybe Berry can be your new one.”

Before Logan could comment, the person-shape grew less distinct, and the flicker of green was gone with the clatter of footsteps scurrying away into the dark.

It was a silly idea—a Name taken could not be restored so easily. Still, the word rattled around in his head along with the one that made his bones ache again.

Necromata. Berry. Necromata. Berry. Berry.

Logan Berry.

Something stirred in the middle of Logan's mind, in his marrow—in the place that magic had scoured out and rubbed raw within the pathways of his brain. Something stirred, settled...

Something slid into place, and all of a sudden the shadows were far less frightening.

Popping his shoulder back into the socket hurt far more than dislocating it had—and yet while he'd sobbed his soul out after being injured, after being robbed of all that made him a person, he shed not a single tear as he put the leather between his teeth, wrenched his joint back into place, and used the fresh water to clean up after he'd emptied his stomach into the corner of his cell.

He even managed to sleep on his pallet of straw, and dreamed of green embers in the dark, drifting into the shadows in his cell and transforming every monster into a friend.

**********

1033, A.A.

“I had the dream again.”

“A kinky one?”

“Sweet leaping gods, Remus!”

The high, strident cackle of his twin brother echoed through Prince Roman's bedchamber, making him wonder yet again why he thought he could talk to the crazy idiot about anything remotely meaningful. Yes, Remus was trustworthy—he gave Roman all manner of hell for the secrets he shared, but had suffered his fair share of indignities to keep his mouth shut—but sometimes he wondered if it was worth the teasing and the laughter to have such a steadfast confidant.

Remus had secrets of his own, after all—the numerous Anima that shared his bed, for one. Like Roman, Remus was fascinated by the Necromata, the true necromancers that all citizens of the Kingdoms were taught to hate and fear. The Anima were little more than pretenders, mages of other disciplines that toyed with the death magic that had been outlawed for over a thousand years.

Still, they had a lot to teach—and made good company, from the way Remus spoke of his dalliances.

“Oh, I'm just yanking your chain, big brother!” Remus assured him, crossing over to drape himself over Roman's back, chin settling on Roman's shoulder to read what his twin was writing as he hunched over his desk. “C'mon now—tell me about the dream, and I'll tell you about the Necromata I fucked last night.”

Roman straightened abruptly at that, unceremoniously sending Remus sprawling to the floor. Turning his chair, he gaped down at his brother and pointed an accusing finger at him.

“You did not sleep with a real necromancer, you lying sack of horse dung!” he hissed. “Why would you even say that in the palace of all places?!?”

“Because the sex was unbelievably good?” Remus offered, shrugging from his place on the floor, flat on his back. “Believe me, Ro Bro, a guy that can't actually feel human contact can keep it up for a nice, long, slow roll in the hay. It's pretty remarkable!”

Roman just huffed, standing from his seat—and promptly sinking to the floor to sprawl out right beside Remus.

“You're lying.” he said simply.

Remus was quiet a long time...then sighed.

“Of course I am. He was just another Animata.”

“Anima. The Animata are a myth, like the Lazari.”

“Since when did you turn into such a brainiac, Roro? We both know I've always been the smart one.”

Roman rolled his eyes with a grin, stretching his leg to kick Remus's ankle—but the truth of the matter was, Remus was right. Between the pair of them, Remus was smarter by leaps and bounds. He was studying the collegiate sciences when he was seventeen, and began his magic training before he'd even reached puberty. The fact that the only part of the sciences he enjoyed were anatomy and mortuary study were entirely besides the point, as was the fact that Remus wasn't actually capable of using magic at all.

He was, as their father lovingly put it, a rogue genius: in possession of an intellect so massive that the rules couldn't restrain him. He either knew too well how to circumnavigate them, or he simply didn't care enough to bother and did what he wanted—what he thought was right, no matter the consequence.

Roman might have been the elder of the twins—by one hour, eleven o'clock of one night where Remus came at midnight the next morning—but he aspired, every single day, to be the maverick that Remus was. He simply lacked the brains...and the courage.

Which was why today, it was Roman their father would be naming as his successor, and not Remus. Roman would be king, would rule by the law and the will of the gods, and Remus would...get to be Remus for the rest of his life, a crown prince without a care in the world.

“Tell me about the dream, Roro.”

Remus's voice was gentle this time, his fingers walking their way along Roman's arm until he could find his hand and weave it into his own.

Roman sighed, staring up at the mural on the ceiling of his bedchamber—a beautifully wrought depiction of the Fall of Death, the final battle between the Animator, the first of the Necromata, and their ancestor, King Thomas Andres, that had saved the Kingdoms over a thousand years ago.

“He was in it.”

“The boy from the dungeons?”

Roman nodded. He could feel Remus watching him...

Just like he could feel the boy from the dungeons watching him every time he had the dream... ********** “He was here again.”

“Jumpin' Jiminy, Lo—are you sure?”

Logan nodded, mostly to himself. Patton couldn't see him, not from the bathtub behind the partition that separated it from the rest of the room, but it hardly mattered—after eight years as cell mates, the two of them had become as close as brothers, as close as twins according to some of the guards that had met the king's identical twin sons.

They had grown so naturally into the relationship, it made Logan wonder sometimes if he'd had a brother before his Name had been taken.

Well...it made him wonder in the early days, at any rate. Logan had stopped wondering many years ago.

Suffice to say, Patton didn't need to see him nod to know that Logan had.

“Well? What'd he do?”

Logan let his mind wander back to the night before—the dream space that he so often occupied, the boy that had come to him in the dark ten years before with a bowl of water, a leather strap, and a name.

The boy he'd come to think of as the Green Man, with those eyes that the dark couldn't fully hide.

“The same thing he always does.” Logan managed to reply, setting down the pen he'd been using in favor of resting his elbows on his desk and steepling his fingers to press against his lips. Among those Necromata imprisoned in the palace dungeons, Logan was quite fortunate: he was allowed a cell mate, access to books and writing implements, even a small window sill garden consisting of plants that couldn't be used for magical purposes.

He was very lucky. Ten years of good behavior had given him an incredible amount of leeway and granted him creature comforts like access to regular bathing privileges. The guards even referred to him by his chosen name.

He was, for all intents and purposes, treated like he was truly human. A prisoner, always, but one the guards and prison mages shared a basic blood connection to, unlike the other Necromata.

“...Lo?...Logan!”

Shaking himself, Logan cleared his throat and tried to beat back the heat he could feel rising in his cheeks, having been caught wool gathering.

“Apologies, I didn't catch that.” he called over his shoulder.

“I said, did he say anything this time?”

Logan shook his head, knowing once again that his actions would be understood rather than seen. Patton asked the same thing every time Logan mentioned the visits, and every time it was the same.

If Patton really knew the content of the Green Man's visitations...

Pressing his fingertips to his mouth again, Logan shut his eyes and let himself remember.

The visits were always in a dream space—for years, before the visitations became more regular, Logan had assumed the Green Man was a guard's son, or the child of some member of the palace staff. Later, when the Green Man came to Logan in his sleep, he figured he was the son of a prison or court mage—who else could manage to dream walk in the mind of even a crippled necromancer like him?

Then again...Logan was different from many prisoners like himself.

In the dream, Logan still cannot see his face. Like those ephemeral dreams from his first few nights in the dungeons, he's little more than shadows with burning points of light the color of fresh shoots just springing from the soil. Over the years, he's become more distinct, but still nothing Logan can give any real definition.

He is a man made of darkness, his eyes reflecting what spark of magic lives within him. They never speak to each other—Logan never dares, secretly apprehensive that disturbing the quiet will somehow end this irregular communion they share.

All the Green Man does is extend a hand, the only part of him Logan can truly see. What was once small and slim fingered has changed over the years into a large hand, broad but lean, tendons standing out below each knuckle and tanned by exposure to the sun. Every time, he reaches out, and every time, Logan takes his hand and just...holds on.

In the dream space, Logan can feel his touch. It's likely a projection, something imagined, but there's strength and warmth in that hand—the pressure of fingers meshing with his own, the heat of palm sealed to palm. There's something under the skin, itchy and trembling, and it makes Logan want to pull away because it's just too much...

The Green Man never lets him. Gradually, the feeling passes, and Logan clings until the feeling returns, crashing over him and sliding back in waves beating the shore of his nervous system.

Logan is always the first to let go. The Green Man makes sure of it—and then he leaves.

“Are you okay, kiddo?”

Logan looked up sharply, twisting to see Patton over his shoulder. His mop of tawny curls is swept back from his face, still dark and wet from his bath, the chill of the cell raising gooseflesh on his bare torso.

He has one hand holding the towel around his waist, and the other resting on Logan's shoulder.

The pressure is barely there, that buzzing awareness of contact easily missed if not expected.

Patton hastily lifts his hand, face screwed up in silent apology. Logan dislikes physical contact, even if he cannot feel it—just like any of the Necromata, so divorced from the living, human populous that they cannot even connect to them through touch.

“Didn't mean to spook you, Lo. Just...you're real quiet. Usually, you got more to say after a visit from You Know Who.”

Logan nodded, then made a point of reaching out to squeeze Patton's hand briefly before letting it go just as quickly.

“Apologies. I suppose I'm just...distracted by today.”

“Yeah—hey, you think the prince'll come down here?” Patton asked hopefully, drawing back to go and find some clothes. “I mean, if he's gonna learn to be king after the ceremony...”

Logan let Patton continue to chatter about the potential for this new ruler to somehow see their plight, somehow be their salvation. He let the words, the hope, wash over him without making contact.

Patton could have hope, because he had no Name. No history, no memory, no past and therefore no future. He was a blank slate, for all intents and purposes, unable to access the power of the Necromata with no life of his own to bind it to.

Unlike Logan. Logan, who no longer wondered if he'd had a brother in his family.

Logan, who could share a dream space, something only mages were capable of.

Logan, who had been given a new name by his benefactor so many years ago, a name that others used daily.

Logan Berry, who even now could feel the essence of every rat behind the dungeon walls, every guard on patrol, every prisoner languishing beneath the lowest floors of the palace...and every noble, every royal, every peasant up above.

Logan Berry, who could not remember his family, but could remember that he once had a brother.

Because, despite the fact that a Name taken could not be restored so easily, Logan had taken a name freely given and made it his own.

A Name, freely given. A life, restored.

Logan could not have hope, because he had the power of the Necromata at his fingertips—and it was only a matter of time before good behavior would no longer be enough to earn him the leeway to stay alive.

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Interview With Mr Wayne

Masterlist

You visit Bruce after inning your court case to celebrate but Bruce hashad a bad day and decides tocheer imself up with a little roleplay~

Warnings: Adult Situations 18+,Smut ,Teasing ,Fingering, Sir Kink?, Panty Kink?, Desk sex, Swearing!, Overstimulating

A/N: This has been sitting on my tablet for about eight nine weeks maybe more? Finally finished it. Just been so side tracked with my other stories. But here is some Bruce Wayne smut..I hope you like it xx

Taglist: @125bluemachine125​ @iloveyouyen​ @thefangirlsblog​ @itismineru​ @tinabean37​

You quickly ran through the lobby of the tower barely remembring to swipe your card against the reader, a new addition that Bruce had installed since nearly getting caught with you in the public elevator now you had a private elevator that lead you to the left of his office in a small concealed hall next to the toilet just behind Mary's desk and it needed a card to access it wasnt much but it was something, its not like you were ever going to convince Bruce to not have sex at work...It was like asking the man to stop being a smug little shit or like asking Tim to cut out caffeine it just wasn't going to happen. You came to a stop trying to bite back a squeal, you was happy so happy, your old boss had decided to settle out of court once all the evidence was put out for her to see some of which was going to be on her record for a long time. Tom had quit once he heard about what had happened and she had gone bust and couldn't afford to go to court already processing for bankruptcy. Tom is trying to buy it from her and was going through getting a loan from the bank. Bruce had said if they didn't aprove he would give Tom the money outright just to 'piss off that bitch'. You on the other hand didn't care about that instead you was pleased with the fact that you hadn't hid behind Bruce,you had done it alone... You had won by yourself well with the help of two of Bruce's lawyers..He wanted you to use them all but eight seemed a bit over the top,  either way you kept Bruce out of it. You wanted to prove that you could stand on your own two feet in some respects. Your aim was to make an example of her, to show that you are a force to be reckoned with in your own right and that just because you have been quiet up until now does not mean you'll let everyone walk over you, not anymore. You smiled in the elevator mirror pulling at your blazer shimmying your bra as the bones dug in to your ribs making you wince you'd gone dressed in a two piece pinstripe suit, smart high waisted straight cut pants the blazer had two rows of buttons giving what you called the 'old mafia' vibe and a dark plum almost black shirt stolen from Bruce's closet for...Reasons.  Your high heels echoed on the marble floor as you exited the elevator rounding the corner seeing Mary sitting there balancing a pen below her nose on her lip you giggled.  "Working had or hardily working?" She jumped dropping the pen on the desk turning to look at you and wolf whistled. "Well if I didn't know for definite that you were bobbing my bosses knob I'd try to peel that suit of you and have a taste myself you look delicious!" You rolled your eyes used to the womans not so subtle flirting. "If I ever get curious I will give you a call" she giggled at your monotone reply licking her lips "Promises promise's~" you huffed at her shaking your head then nodded to the full board room Bruce sitting at the head of the table looking just about done with their shit. His shoulders were tense and squared as one little man raised his voice across at him. You licked your lips taking your bottom one into your mouth biting it as Bruce held his gaze steady and smiled making the other one sit his scrawny as back down.  Fuck yes, you loved boss Bruce, and Batman Bruce and Alpha Bruce fuck any Bruce...But Boss Bruce got you going like nothing else, you almost whined seeing him work, a stern gaze across the table daring them to challenge him further. Oh god you just wanted to walk in and fuck him there and then, let the others see him fuck the life out of you. You sucked on your bottom lip again trying to fight back a pitiful whine. So public sex may have become a kink since your little holiday...You'd both been caught fucking on the beach by one of the staff Bruce hired to take care of the house and when he hadn't stopped just kept rutting into you faster knowing they were stealing glances, the way his voice dropped teasing you about having an audience how he wanted you to give them a show. Ugh. It had made you cum so hard you passed out for a few seconds and when you woke he was still at it albeit slower and biting off chuckles away as you flushing so fast you became dizzy below him. "You need a drink your looking thirsty there" you snapped yourself out of your thoughts and glared playfully at the woman as she got up walking to the small corridor you'd came from, not only did it hide the new elevator and toilet but also a small kitchenette. You sighed following her taking one last glance as Bruce pointed sterny at a few of the men you could only imagine how deep his voice had gotten you shivered. "Come on before you leave a puddle! They have only just polished this shit...And I don't feel like trying to find a 'caution wet floor' sign" you groaned at her. She hopped up on to the counter waiting for the kettle to boil. You moved to lean against it placeing down Your bag and the folder holdjng your settlement details you'd brought with you to show Bruce. "Sooo where did you go off to back there? It looked...fun" you smiled at her blushing. "Just thinking of our holiday was all...We experimented, seeing him in there just reminded me" she moved adding sugar to two cups snorting at you before nudging you playfully. "Oo kinky tell me more~"  "I dont kiss and tell Im afraid...Not sober anyway" she snorted at that then waved a hand at you. "Kiss and tell? psh like all you did was kiss...So no details?, not one tiny little ounce of Juicey gossip? come ooonnn!" you shook your head at her with a grin and she pouted "Oh boo! your just like him no fun at all! , I tried getting details out of Bruce and he just went red and shy...SHY! I didn't know he could do shy... So what ever you did Mama me next? please and thank you" you flushed at her laughing her off as she handed you your tea wrigglingnher eyesbrows. You both sat in comfortable silence for a few moments sippingnyour drinks. "Soo? Did you top him?" You choked spitting your tea back into the cup coughing and then turned to her gaping like a fish. "Where did?-did he tell you?" Her face lit up and she giggled around a whispered 'HO-LY SHIT!' "Oh my fuck you did! Get it girl! You teach that big boss man! You make him eat the peach?" You blushed and stam,ered tryjng to find the words to get out of this one. "Oh fuck shit look seriously dont tell anyone he'd never forgive me if that got out!" "Oh honey no! I'd never!...But no he didn't tell me I guessed, you know he did go shy so...Must have been somthing new...But kudos to giving him a taste of girl power..Enjoy yourself atleast" "Oh...well yes I was surprised I managed to pull it off..I mean Bruce is big and strong and I wasn't exactly sure the cuffs would hold when he realised what I did he got smug teasing me...Then mad when he realized I wasnt fucking around-" she squealed and bounced on the spot "Shit!? You just sprung cuffs on him?! wow Mama you got a set of balls!...Bet you paid for it" you chuckled sipping your tea. "Well.. He got his pay back...The man has more stamina then I give him credit for..." she snorted nodding shaking her head dropping to conversation seeing you were uncomfortable. You shifted before speaking up again. "So how long has he been in there for?" She peered around the side into the hall that had a veiw of the clock. "Bout three hours...They are opening a new office in central city which Bruce is fine with, it will make a few things easier...But the board want to place one of their sons as the branch manager, Bruce said no. This kid has only been here for two years and hasn't got a single promotion or anything! He isn't really any good at his job ,he only got the job by pulling strings. Bruce wants to promote someone who deserves it not hand it over to some fucking daddies boy...But true to form this guy started going ahead anyway, telling the others that Bruce agreed apparently, daddy promised this little shit the job...This tit doesn't know it yet but Bruce is about to fire him his son and two other board members for this little drama." You frowned at her "He can do that? I thought only the share holders or some shit could sack someone that high up?" She gave you a look and blinked slowly. "Honey your man is the main shareholder...He owns like ninety percent of the company....Thats why his name is on the building...On that note lets head back I wanna see this...You probably will to just remember no puddles~" you moved to swipe at her playfully as she scampered away down the hall laughing you followed snatching up your folder holding the documents of your settlement in your hands.

You turned the corner you heard raised voices and saw Bruce sitting leaning back arms crossed his head was tilted and he looked pleased with himself as the three older men and one young sprog was stangding before him each in various emotional states.  The oldest one was shouting at Bruce with animated hand gestures towards himself and the young man; you assumed he was the father and son. The young man was more panicked then anything you could see from here he didnt want to be there, he wanted his father to shut up and to leave.  You turned your attention  to the other two middle aged men around Bruce's own age both had seemed to accept what ever had just happened. Bruce moved forward sitting staight then pointed to them saying something else making everyone in the room flinch then he leaned back holding his hands out at his sides then nodded to the door. You froze as Bruce saw you and smiled at you for a second, your view was interrupted as the now unemployed men tried storming past the desk. "Err excuse me gentlemen? I'm afraid you will need to hand in your company id's and passes..." the eldest swore and clambered over to the desk, you moved to the side with your tea and sipped it slowly. Letting the irate man pull his wallet from his pocket tearing the cards out and slammed them down then he turned to his son who handed in his id sheepishly then they both left quickly with one last snarl to Bruce through the glass. You released a breath when all four men were in the elevator and out of sight. "I always hated that man, rude and pig headed...He is elitist...Which is pretty ironic when you realise he was raised by working class parents." You snorted at her then turned to the board room as Bruce said something that looked like a threat well if the reactions were anything to go by. Then he dismissed the remaining men with a wave of his hand. Before any of them were out he had already signaled you to enter the room. You moved picking up your cup and folder then circled Mary's desk. "Ooo the board room today? I shall put the cleaners on sandby" You flipped her the bird as she laughed out loud "Fuck you Mary" you called over your shoulder walking towards the door. "If only you would my love~" you giggled  at her shaking your head. You bit your lip watching as the men leaving the room all but jumped out of your way, not wanting to risk any contact with you especially when Bruce was watching them like a hawk....And in what they precived as a bad mood. The last man held the door open for you as you entered you nodded to him. "Thank you" he stuttered flushing as you smiled  "Y-your welcome" he quickly left the room almost tripping over his feet as Bruce's gaze scalded his back.

You walked forward towards him as he spun his chair to face you a devious smirk on his face man spreading with his hands resting just above his crotch. "Well what do we have here?..Heels? Pantsuit? And no doubt that folder's holding the little ladies resumé..." you squinted at him playfully and recived a wink in return. So thats how he wants to play it today?. You smiled you'd play along. You moved standing taller. Prouder.  "Of course Mr Wayne...Would you like a peek?" Your words rolled off the tongue in a sultry voice full of promise. He moved holding out a hand for you to place the folder in it. "Only if your offering Mrs?" "Miss Cooke with an E and if I wasn't offering I wouldn't be here I assure you" he chuckled a deep smug sound that made your knees quiver slighltly as you played along with him. He hummed flicking open the folder scanning the documents. Your heart sped up as his smirk got wider and wider untill he was grinning like a cheshire cat. "Very impressive...Your Boyfriend must be proud of you  for such an acomplishment" you giggled taking a step closer to him. "I'd like to think so Mr Wayne" you grinned yourself as you saw him stiffen at you calling him his title. He quickly flipped the folder closed and let hit fall onto the huge table with a slap. "I would say most definetly...I wonder what he would think? you being here at my disposal?" you sucked through your teeth. "Well he is a man in uniform, bit of a brute at times but there are ways to placate him, I'm sure I can persuade him ~ if I think the reward is great enough" he chuckled shaking his head and gave a lopsided grin before speaking in a gravley tone low and tempting. "Oh I assures you miss Cooke it will be worth it~" you moved forward leaning on the table infront of him hands gripping the sides and leaned down bending at the waist holding his gaze before trailing down to his crotch then back up smirking. "Ha! come now Mr Wayne...There are certain things we both know money can't buy~" he moved forward to capture your lips but you dodged him swiftly. He growled and leaned back taking a quick glance to the door seeing Mary had gone...The elevator light red signaling noone was going to reach this floor until he reactivated it, a very good investment if he did say so himself!.  He turned to you smirking knowing just how this will play out. He moved a hand capruting your bottom lip with his thumb you licked at him making him humm, then you pulled it into your mouth watching him closely as you wrapped your tongue around him lapping and massaging it he smirked and pressed down lightly making you moan and suck harshly. "..So a sharp tongue...Not to sharp, you mouth will come in handy" you hummed a a small giggle around his digit and bit lightly running your teeth over him as he withdrew you winked at him playfully smaking your lips at him. He rolled his eye before snapping back into 'boss mode' crossing his arms over his chest leaning into the plush leather chair rolling it back a foot or so, taking his time to drink in the sight of you. Leaning back on the table he was about to make a mess of~ the pant suit definitely accentuated your curves the top button of the jacket fighting to contain your breasts he knew were being held high by a balcony bra just below...  He grunted raising in his seat trying to catch a peek of the deep cleavage the bra produced but nope...Nothing the shirt you wore was large and fit snugly but sadly there were none of the dreaded button gaps for him you use as his own private little peep show. "I can see you have the skills for the most part...However there are some...Personal aspects to the position I can't have just anybody as my assistant, they have to have a drive...A willingness  to do anything it takes to get the job done...Tell me Miss Cooke could you see yourself going the distance....The whole nine yards so to speak?" You snorted at him and tried swollowing a chuckle...You tired to hold it in but you couldn't. He smiled dropping his roleplay for a second shaking his head at you but quickly you found your composure and stood straight. "I think nine is pushing it~" he frowned at you playfully and crooked a finger with a sly look.  "Oh really what ever happened to 'oh Bruce its in my tummy~'" you gasped horrified as he tried mimicking a high moan...You have never said that!....Well you don't think you had to be honest when your fucking him you never really know what's coming out of your mouth... "YOU?! I have never said that....Have I?" He through his head back laughing loud echoing through the large empty space. "No but you've thought it~ I can tell...Either way my sweet little woman why don't we see if its possible~ see if you can back up those words" you shook your head blushing it was completely possible youd screamed that out at him. And the idea you could have shamed and aroused you. "...I'm sure I could handle anything your dishing out Mr Wayne." He groaned moving his hands away from his stomach reajusting himself tugging his belt. You flushed when his hand rose quickly pulling your shirt from your pants he chuckled seeing how far it fell... It was definitely one of his, that would be why there was no tugging on the buttons you smiled shyly. "Your Boyfriends?" And just like that the game was back on track. You moved twiddling the lower buttons of the shirt a little embarassed about stealing it this morning. "W-well Mr Wayne today was a big day...Its intimidating coming here, standing on my own two feet...His scent calms me down I feel safe" he smiled softly before slowly popping the buttons on the suit jacket  pulling it off and letting it fall to the floor behind you he burst out laughing as the sleeves of his shirt fell down a good few inches over your hands as the jacket wasnt holding them up and longer. "Hey! Don't laugh at me!" He moved forward kissing you softly. "Sorry sweets...You just look so cute!" You pouted as he ran his hands across you slowly pulling the shirt up snaking a hand the the side zipper of the trousers and with a quick flick of his wrist the heavy fabric fell to the floor with a soft thump.

He moved back taking a moment to admire you standing in just his shirt and underwear before him. It looked like a dress how you smoothly tucked it in, he didnt have a clue he groand and bit his lip then moved. He rolled the chair back towards you and pressed you to sit on the table. You half expected him to slip his hands under your ass and drag down your panties but he didn't. He pushed both feet to rest on the egde of the table forcing you to lean back and catch yourself on your hands. "Bruce?" His eyes flicked up to your uncertain gaze he just grinned wickedly and winked at you. "Hold still Miss Cooke~" and with that he moved his hands from the bottom of your legs, running his fingertips along your calfs making you shiver as he formed goosebumps on the skin, your breath hitched when he continued dragging them along your soft thighs down towards your center. Your pussy clenched and you moaned softly almost trying to rock towards him but you held back not moving you didnt' was to fall off the table. You flushed heart racing and your pussy wept onto the cotton making you whine knowing it wouldn't be long befor he noticed. Bruce chuckled at your little whines and soft pants as he bypassed your center and cupped the top of your thighs moving to your hips rubbing slow warm circles before retracing his movements coming back to the soft pudgy thighs then up. He moved again skipping your hot wanting center and began undoing the buttons of his shirt that was draped over you stoping just under your bust and flicking it behinde you pulling it from under your ass roughly causing you to squeak as your heated skin hit the cool pollished wood. He chuckled and moved his hand cupping your throbbing center teasing the wet hole with a firm rub of his fingers squeazing you and circling the damp patch on your undies prodding shallow teasing thrusts. You through your head back and moaned as his hand continued rolling and rubbing the flexing muscles, it was incredible each and every time this man touched you but there something about him groping you through the layers of your clothes...Something taboo about being made to mess your underwear ,drenching them through.  He moved flexing his strong hand squeezing your cunt. In a delicious possessive fashion. You grunted and rocked towards him the friction of your panties rubbing your clit, the warmth of his hand adding to the sensations. Your body was hot already the anticipation of things to come making you pants and breaths hitch his flicking and playing with your growing arousal smearing the small flood with his fingers dragging it across the gusset of your panties in deliberate strokes. "Ive never made you mess your panties before~ would you like that? For me to make you cum? Make you soak them through?" You bit your lip closing your eyes and gyrated your hips against him trying to chase an orgasm that was building far to slowly for your liking. You nodded clenching your fists into his shirt whining as the very first trembles began and you began hearing the your wetness againt his hand on the thin material. "Oh? You like that idea baby? For me to force you to cum? Force you to gush inside these cute little panties all over the table? The table where all the important meetings are held? Let your cum stain the wood right here? Right were I sit and work?" You nodded quickly gasping as his hot palm pulled back, you didn't have a chance to whine as he lifted it and gave a cupped plam slap to your whole wet center. The sharp slap made you jump rocking into him with a gruntal moan. He chuckled again then slapped quicker making you tremble. "FUCK! BRU-bruce! AH SH-IT PLEASE-please fuck please  more~" he chuckled moving his other hand around your throat and squeezed just enough to make your breathes deeper. And slapped your pussy harder making it sting. You cried out nevertheless in lewd moans curling forward each slap left a sting that added to the warm hum of you nerves, insides protesting to being empty as they coiled and tensed. There was a knot deep inside that was pulled tighter and tighter with each movement he made mastering your insides without even touching them. A skill you hadn't truly accepted until now as he toyed with you. "Now now~ is that anyway to call out for your new boss, you should ask nicely.?.Be polite" you shook your head as he slapped again this time keeping it there and rubbed harsher and faster then before concentrating on your erect bud that pressed on the cotton. You bucked one foot slipping but bruce was quick leaning a knee on the table taking the weight of the foot keeping you open and still with a chuckle. He watched as tears began falling from your eyes...You were close so close he could tell. He tipped his hand rubbing the heel of his palm to your clit rubbing violently curling his fingers digging them over your hole pressing harder on the sensitive petals just below. "FuckFUCFUCK NOOO-I'M SORRY SIR! PLEASE MR WAYNE UGHAH AH oh-oh shit plea-please Mr Wayne please sir!" He smiled pressing his hand flat then began patting you quickly making you moan loudly. You closed your eyes pushing your hips towards him crying out as he sped up. Each well placed pat sent tremors up and down your spine you withered, legs tensing and untensing as you tried tochase the high. Your pussy grew warmer and yout breathes sharp. The tell tale signs of an impending orgasm that had crept up on you. "AH-FUCK PLE-PLEASE SIR PLEASE-MR WAYNE UGH-FUUUUGH SHIT PLEASE PLEASE MR WAYNE PLEEAASE!" He smirked and moved faster alternating his rubs and flicks with varying slaps and pinched your body tensed and arched painfully as you crieds out as he drove you higher and higher. "Thats it baby~.....Fuck you look so gorgeous, fucking incredible...Cum! I want you to cum inside those little panties all over my desk baby....Thats it all over Mr Waynes spot~ Good girl!" You choked out moans and grunts your body was shivering and your lust boiled in your tummy and finally with one final harsh wet slap you came loudly throwing yourself back at the force. Bruce barely captured you to soften your fall gently placing you to lie back on the desk ass only just on it. You cried out gyrating against Bruces still patting hand closing your eyes as your body let go falling over the edge of ecstasy. Your mind was blank...Black and there was nothing but the hot wave the full body rush that completely wiped you out leaving you very messy and satisfied.

You laid there panting looking to the ceiling with blurry eyes,you were crying softly and you was sure why. You felt the aftermath your body loose and trembling. You could faintly hear Bruces chuckles in the back ground over your harsh panting. "And that my love is how to cum hard...Shit what even set that one off?" He asked but you just hummed reaching out for him he chuckled and moved closer tugging you down the table, ass just hanging off the edge. You tilted your head up warily eyeing him and sighed flopping back down seeing him loosening his belt with one hand. The next thing you knew he had stepped between your spread thighs smooting his palms over them massaging the still trembling muscles. "Got you good huh babe?" You grunted which resulted in a kiss on your stomach from him. You frowned when he moved closer to line himself up. "Bruce I've got my-" he looked up at you winking and gave a cheeky smile hooking fingers in the side of our gusset. "I know...Wanna fuck with them on for a change...Got a thin for panties at the mineut" you flushed turning your head to the side watching his hands as theymoved to hold you. You were still far to exhausted to move. He just smiled and watched as he hooked the panties to the side. The way they moved made your pussy look plump and fucking perfect! As much as he wanted to feast on the perfectly smooth peach he had other matters to attend.

Bruce grunted letting the crown of his cock brush the wet silken folds, he almost loved this more then fucking you. The intimacy of him just ghosting your body, teasing you with his own cock watching as your tiny body swallowed him. He shuddered and dipped down finding the luxurious slit. Without wasting time he plowed into you. You grunted as he entered you pressing fast and hard you felt as your walls gave way, molding to his girth like always. You'd never get enough! This man was so incredibly intoxicating it was unreal. You moan high as he moved forward putting his weight on his cock he throbbed inside of you, the thick veins almost acting as a pulsing vibrator humming against your still tender nerves ignighting them all over again. He grunted pressing his balls to your pelvis then pulled back only to ram harder. You screeched moving your hands to his wrists as he place his heavy palms on your hips and began tugging you towards him. Soon he found his rhythm a fast unrelenting pace driven by his own impending release. You whined and melwed at ever push and pull his cock was spearin into you, massaging your g spot maing you see stars then finishingneach thrust at your cervix. The almost unbearable mix of pleasure and pain was to much and you screamed throwing your head back and forth spurred on by his growls as his voice got lost. Feral sounds come from him vibrating the air around you as he pounded away determined.

Your body was screaming, it wanted release, it wanted more..And it wanted to rest you trembled knees knocking against his pistoning hips as your insides clutched at him sucking him tighter and tighter then without warning you fell again. This time was much more intense your whole body locked almost cramping and tremblingat thesametime, you couldnt move, or speak you just looked up wide eyed as waves of ecstasy rolled over you. Bruce through his head back with a victorious shout you vaguely felt his balls rise and tighten against you ass then he released inside of you grunting and rutting as he caem drawing it out as mich as he could then finally came to a halt and fell over you.

You panted weeping quietly moving to wipe your face and press our hair back. He arched over you kissing you slow a sensually no tongues nothing lewd just open mouthed kisses pouring his love into you in the best way he knew how. He pulled back looking to you then laughed. "Wow...That was better then I imagined" you nodded agreeing with him and pushed him back. "Babe...My panties are hurting me can you?" He jumped back quickly swiftly removjn him self and tucked himself away whilst pulling your panties back over our center. He patted our mound casually making you jolt and whine. "Bruuuce! No its sensitive!" He smiled eyeing your pussy, even through the wet material he could still tell it was a very happy freshy fucking little pussy! Swollen and pink! Just how he liked it. He moved pulling your trousers to your ankles chuckling. "Two...Three at once!" You frowned for a second then your face dropped...The list. You rolled your eyes and sat up leaning on unsteady arms and watched as he rolled up the trousers pulling then up to your knees. "Okay what were they?" He smiled slyly and hooked an arm around your waist sliding you off the table onto your feet. You staggered in the heels and grabbed his shoulders as he settled your weight onto his chest pulling the trousers up over your ass and zipped them up. "Board room, cum in your panties and fuck you in your fuck me heels! Three down in one hit!" You chuckled up at him as he explained smugly he was definitely proud of this one. You turned faceing the now desecrated table and flinched. Now that was a fucking mess! You turned glaring at him motioning a hand to the puddle. "Bruce -I you? Fuck it you don't care do you?...Nope didn't think so...Fuck my legs are still like jelly!" He grinned and wriggled his eyebrows at you. "Sooo you wont get very far if I said I'm ready for round two?~" you gaped at him instantly looking to his crotch he laughed waving you off. "Not really sweets...Lets go home, we could test out the jets in the bath, its supposed to give you a 'real massage experience'" you frowned at him as he scooped ou up swiping your bag and court settlement the  began leaving the room walking down to the private elevator. "Jets? We had jets in the bath since when?" He flushed as he entered the elevator pressing the garage level. "Since this afternoon...I had a new let spa bath tub fitted in our suite...Damien caught us in the hot tub and yeah-" you blinked not following for a few seconds then clicked.

"HE FUCKING WHAT!? WHEN DID HE-oh my god thats what you were freaked out about!? Oh no oh god he was me-did he see me? Please tell me he didnt?!" Bruce smiled cutely walking out of the elevatore to the car it was the lamboghini again today. "No he didnt see you I covered you but...I figured it wouldnt happen if we had somewhere else with jets so new bath" you sighed nodding as he placed you down by the car then tugged at the folder. "I'm proud of you for this, so very proud you stuck to your guns and you did it alone..You've proved with this that you're not a push over , that your a strong woman .A very very stong independent woman and I am so happy for you, but most of all I'm proud that I get to call you mine!" You smiled cupping his cheek and moved in kissing him softly. "Thank you Bruce, I want to show everyone that...That I may now be considered a kept woman...But I can fight for myself, protect myself when I need to and I'm glad you let me do that you don't know how much it means for you to let me do that" he through his head back laughing loud, you didnt understand you almost felt insulted until he calmed down and cupped your head in both his hands. "I don't let you do anything love! You can do what ever you want...Fucking let you stick up for yourself? Your free to do what ever you want...You want a business? I'll get you a bussines , you want to travel? we will! I'd do anything for you I love you...Outside of the bed you are my fucking queen, but inside the sheet? Your my very own pillow princess-OUCH! FUCK SWEETS?" You swooned he could have asked for anything then and there and youd have said yes...Until the pillow princess  comment. "I'm not a pillow princess! You-just your? UGH! STOP BEING SO FUCKING GOOD AND I'D BE ABLE TO THINK! AND POSSIBLY MOVE!" he laughed ou off opening the passenger side door motioning for you to get in. You rolled your eyes and they say chivalry is dead? Once seated the smiled to yourself. That was probably the most romantic thing he'd said and he had to ruin it with his typiclal bruce smug bull shit...But then again that was your Bruce. He slid into the drivers side.and you leaned over. "Hey babe?" He glanced at you as he turned the ignition reving the car to life.

"Yes my love?"

"You said anything right?" You twiddled your fingers and then move your hand to his thigh as the car began moving.

"Yes sweets anything"

"Teach me to drive-" he squinted nodding agreeing instantly as he pulled out ontothe road. "This thing" he snapped his gaze to you. What? His precious heart,  his beautiful little lover, sweet girlfriend behind the wheel of a seriously powerfull supercar? His heart almost stopped at the idea. "Are-are you sure? Its a powerful car...Don’t you want me to get you something err less-" "No I love this car its the first one you drove me around in...I want to drive it Bruce" he looked to you casually and pulled out tothe main road slowly cursing himself. He was going to refuse on the grounds of your own safty but, one look at your puppydog eyes and that was it you clapped cutely with a small 'yay'... one thing was for sure before you got behinde the wheel there was going to be some serious automatic breaking sensors put on...and a fucking speed limiter....and bullet proof windows and panels....Maybe some traker devices to...Like the one in your bracelet. "Babe I can here you thinking...Its just a car love don't...Don't go 'batting' it out okay?" Bruce didn't look at you as he drove on just a vaguely familiar hmm that meant he was pretending to agree with you...Or not listening one of the two his hmm's are all very similar.