#i get it now. i too would get my giant weapon not firing if i looked like that before even 50 years old

[gemsbokk]

there's. three years difference between these two.

i don't know what being an admiral makes you do but hackett is aging *hard*

[the-californicationist]

That Fire is Repeated

AO3 Link

From an anonymous ask: fic of where instead of Price, it's reader who's been infected with sex pollen?👉👈please and thank u!

Deep in the southern jungles of Urzikstan, Captain Price is sent to help with your extraction. On your way out of the makeshift Konni laboratory, you accidentally step on a trap, and Price volunteers to save your life.

“I can’t hear her comms!” Simon yelled out over the noise of the helicopter, pointing to his headset and giving the thumbs down to Laswell.

She typed something into her datapad and showed it to him, yelling back,

“Dead zone! You’ll have to go in on foot.”

Price adjusted his vest and checked to make sure his gun was fully loaded,

“I’ll go. She’s my recruit, my responsibility.”

“Sure you’ll wanna be the big hero for her, too, huh?” Farah laughed from the cockpit, glancing over her shoulder as Price twisted his face, cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink from his shame. 

It was well-known that Price had a terribly strong crush on you. You had accepted his advances, but he was reluctant to take it further, realizing that fraternizing was frowned upon. So, you pined for each other from afar, and the whole base knew about it.

Laswell rolled her eyes at Farah’s comment, 

“Should we go back to basics? Captain: don’t subtract from the population,” her eyes narrowed, “Don’t add to the population…”

“Yeah, alright, Kate. Got it. Loud and clear,” Price waved her off, staring out the window and ignoring the obvious ribbing from his colleagues. 

“Go get Sparrow and let’s go the fuck home,” Laswell hollered at him, opening the door to the chopper and letting the air whoosh inside.

The wind stung his cheeks, and the tall grass blades spun and twirled like violent dancers as he made his way towards the old, dilapidated lab. You’d been sent to infiltrate secret Konni operations here, disguised as a chemist. Now that the Konni operatives had been dispatched, you secured the intel and were ready for extraction. Price was ready to have you back. These types of ops were so delicate. One wrong move would put you in danger. He was glad the worst of it was over. 

As quickly and as carefully as he could, Price made his way inside. It was a little odd that you weren’t outside waiting for the extraction, so his guard was up. In the main lab, he spotted you, standing with your bag and your weapon with your back towards him. 

“Little bird?” Price questioned under his breath, moving forward slowly, using the pet name he saved for when you two were alone. 

“Hey, Captain. Glad you made it,” you called out to him, your voice tinged with obvious sobbing and stress. 

“What is it, Spar? What’s happened?”

He made his way around the lab table and saw you. You were standing stock-still, staring down at your foot. Then, he knew what had made you cry. 

Jutting out of your pant leg, a giant syringe was stuck into your calf, empty.

Price leaned down to help you, removing the needle, panicking at the thought of losing you,

“Can you move?”

“When I do… Captain, it’s excruciating.”

“Fuck,” Price tried the comms. But, then he remembered it was a dead zone, and no one was coming to help him. He asked you, “Is it poison? How’d this happen?”

“They call it XLR8. It’s what they’ve been working on. A prototype. I was bending down to grab my bag and this was rigged to hit me. They knew I was a spy.”

“What does it do, this prototype?” You heard his voice quiver at the end of his question. 

You blushed, laughing a bit, 

“It incapacitates you, first. Removes your inhibitions, next. Then, it causes extreme vasodilation…”

“In the Queen’s bloody English, love. Please…”

“John,” you used his name, looking up into his eyes, “I may ask you to do things to me. Things that I might not usually ask for. And I want you to know that you don’t have to listen to me. I don’t want you to do anything… I don’t want to force you to do… things…”

“Birdie. Tell me what I need to know.”

“When the Konni scientists injected it into mice, they would breed… for hours. They wouldn’t eat, they wouldn’t sleep. One time, a researcher opened the door to the cage, and they didn’t escape. They only bred…” You looked at him in his eyes, making sure he heard you, “But, the mice who were alone in their cages and were given XLR8 got a high fever and died. Every last one of them”

“Are you… “ Price pointed down at your leg, “Do you mean to say that you’ll need someone to…”

You looked down at the ground, steeling yourself for the harsh reality of what was to come,

“When the drugs hit my system, the effects were immediate. Stage one should be almost over now.. You’ll… you’ll know it when you see stage two. But, listen to me, John. I couldn’t live with myself if I forced you to do something that you would regret. Please. I’m sure they’ll think of some other way to help me…”

“Little bird,” he caught your gaze and smiled softly at you, “I’m here for you. I’m not going to let anythin’ happen to you. I won’t lose you to this. I can’t… I care about you too much. I’m going to catch you, and we’re going to get out of here. Just fall forward into my arms, love. I know it hurts. We need to get you to the bloody medic as soon as we can.”

You nodded, and then you did as he commanded. Every movement felt like some sort of hell. You could hear yourself screaming, but it was muffled, your face buried in his chest. You were hanging, limp, against John’s body. You could feel every stinging step he took as it jostled your body. Suddenly, you heard the angry clipping of chopper blades. Then, you passed out. 

Sometime later, you awoke, still on the chopper, sitting in the jump seat way in the back. Well, that wasn’t quite accurate. Price was sitting in the jumpseat and you were… straddling his lap. 

You were humping him, shamelessly, right in front of Farah, Laswell, Gaz, Soap, and Ghost. The helicopter was full of soldiers, and here you were, uncontrollably rocking your hips against your captain. The others tried to avert their gazes, sitting at awkward angles, trying not to watch, but that somehow made it worse. 

You cried out as if you were in pain, and Price held you closer, soothing you with his deep, rumbling voice, speaking to you right in your ear,

“Shh, shh. It’s alright, little bird. I’ve got you. Almost home. Just a few more minutes.”

“John… fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry… I need… oh, God.”

“I know what you need,” he kissed your neck, and he took his hand and shoved it down the front of your pants, giving you something to grind against. 

His fingers were strong, and the tips of them were thick, easily pressing through your folds for you, exciting your nerves just the way you liked.

You moaned loudly, unable to stop yourself. When you did, you saw Soap’s head peek around the back of his seat. Then, a gloved, skeletal hand yanked him back around to face the front. If you didn’t die from the XLR8, you’d die from embarrassment afterward, that was certain. 

“It’s okay, bird. It’s not your fault. They know that,” he tried to reassure you, but you hid your face in his neck anyway, unable to stop your wanton writhing, soaking his fingers until they slid against you unimpeded. 

You felt your hands reach for his belt, digging under his vest and all of his equipment straps. You wanted to spear your body onto his thick cock. You were sure that it would cure you. The fever made you feel too cold and too hot all at the same time. You shivered in his arms, but your brow was dotted with beads of sweat. 

He caught your wrist to stop you,

“Just a little while longer, love. Shh, shh, shh. I know…”

You sobbed into his shoulder, ashamed and needy, too weak to fight his grip. 

“Hey, look at me,” you obeyed, and he rubbed your cheek, “I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry.”

You shuddered, cresting over a brief, sharp orgasm, coming on him as quietly as you could, biting your cheek so you wouldn’t cry out. For a few seconds, you experienced some sort of relief, but then it was gone, and the overwhelming internal fire raged in your belly once more.

The chopper pitched, landing on the pad at your base, and everyone cleared out of the hull except for Laswell. She looked down at you, pity in her eyes, and then turned to him with concern,

“I’ll send a few supplies to your room. The medic wants to run some tests. How long is this supposed to last?”

John shrugged, petting the sweaty hair out of your face, tucking you in close to him in his arms,

“Not sure. Just trying to get her through it. Take her datapad. It’s got her notes from the lab.”

Laswell took it and stepped down from the chopper, jogging off to the med bay. 

“C��mon, love. Let me help you take that fever away, hm?”

You nodded, feeling dizzy and dehydrated, letting him carry you from the helicopter. It seemed like the tight coil in your belly was getting more and more tense by the moment. Your orgasm had been too weak, and it was almost like you hadn’t quite completed the event. You were just stuck in between coming and not coming, waiting for someone to put you out of your misery. What you thought had been relief was really just a prelude to the main event. It was torture. 

As you lay your head on his chest, you could smell his aftershave as it mixed with his skin, a comfortingly warm scent with woodsy spices and the faint hint of tobacco from his favorite cigars. You wanted more of it, so you turned your nose into him, running your hands across the belt of his pants, trying to pry your way in..

When he arrived in the barracks, he kicked open the door to a dark room. It smelled just like him. You realized then that you were in his quarters. He lay you on his bed and set to taking off your gear. Your boots and socks slid off, and he unclipped your vest. Then, you felt his fingers on your neck, carefully inspecting your wounds. 

“Birdie…” He shook his head, obviously regretful for what you were going through. 

You whimpered, looking up at him as you moved your hand down your own pants, rubbing yourself in front of him out of a desperate need, 

“John, I don’t know how to ask you this.”

“You don’t have to. Medic’s gonna check you out, and I’ll give you whatever you want, little bird. I promise.”

“I need you, now. I don’t… I can’t… mmmngh...”

“Captain?” A woman’s voice floated into the room from the doorway. Price cracked the door and when he saw it was the medic, he let her in. 

She knelt by the bed, and took your hand,

“Hey, Sparrow. I’m just going to check your vitals, okay?”

You nodded, trying not to stare down the dark opening of her lab coat. Her voice was so sweet, and her breasts looked full and soft. Her olive skin would probably feel so warm on your lips. Before you could stop yourself, you had your hand behind her head, kissing her neck, trying your best to unbutton her blouse.

“Easy! Easy does it,” John sat himself down behind you on the bed, positioning you between his legs, and held you back, keeping you from accosting the medic. 

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry. I… oh, my God…” You writhed, trying to fight the demonic need building inside of you.

“That’s okay,” she said, “They warned me. We’re going to get you some help… Let me take your temp… Goddamnit. She’s burning up. I’m going to give her a light sedative and something to try and cut her fever, but…”

She stopped speaking, looking up at the captain, trying to be delicate, 

“You probably need to… um… begin. The sooner the better. I’ll leave these with you,” she dropped two blue pressed pills into his hand, “Just in case you, uh, need a boost.”

Price recognized the sexual enhancement drugs and put them on his side table. He waited patiently for the medic to take a small vial of your blood. He thanked her, trying not to sound like he was in a rush (even though he was), and eventually she shut the door, leaving you two in each others’ care.

John stayed where he was, but he softened his grip, kissing your neck. He reached down and unbuttoned your pants, giving your hand room to move. You rubbed your folds faster, making tight little circles around your clit, struggling to come. 

“Nnngh… fuck. Fuck, I can’t do it. I’m so close, but…” You whined, gritting your teeth and struggling against the XLR8. It was making you woozy, and you couldn’t keep your strength up in order to get yourself over the edge. 

“Show me,” he whispered, staring down at your furious masturbation, watching your hand as it worked, “Show me how you like it, little bird. Teach me.”

Your heart raced, equal parts excited and embarrassed to show him something so personal and intimate, but you did as you were told, letting him see how your fingers worked your flesh. He sighed, and you felt his cock shift against the small of your back. 

He took over for you, sliding his hand down below yours, mimicking your movements, and getting very close to perfection. 

“That’s it!” You hissed, keening for him, “That’s… oh, fuck, that’s so good. Don’t stop. Please, don’t —”

Your orgasm was almost immediate. Your body locked up, every muscle squeezing you until you were frozen, rigidly convulsing as you came on his hand. Your mouth hung open in a breathless, silent scream. Then, to your horror, you felt the heavy stain of some sort of fluid soaking through your pants. At first, you thought you’d wet yourself, but then when John pulled his hand away to inspect your emission, you saw the sticky, gooey consistency shining on his fingers. 

“What… I don’t understand. What is that?”

“It looks like your come, yeah? Quite a lot of it…” He observed. Price brought it to his nose and mouth to smell it. Then, he licked his fingers tentatively, and his eyes rolled back into his head, “Mmm. Fuck. It’s sweet.”

He lifted you so easily, it was as if you weighed nothing. Propping you up on his pillows, he helped you out of your pants and boots, stripping you down. When Price saw you, dripping and pink, splayed in front of him like a gleaming prize, he stalled. Then, he looked up at you, eyes wide with glorious wonder,

“Little bird…”

“John,” you gasped, “Please.”

He didn’t waste any more time. In a flash, your thighs were hitched up toward your chest as he shoved them back, giving his mouth access to its warm, wet reward. 

The first long lick was like its own kind of drug. Your whole body sang like a bell, trembling and ringing out for him and his soft tongue. He licked you again and pulled away, confused but pleasantly so,

“Fuck, love. You taste like strawberries. That’s… fuck.”

You lost track of time as he devoured you. His whole face was shining with your stickiness, and he couldn’t get enough of it. He was gasping for air, practically drowning himself, rubbing his chin and nose through your folds as he tried to writhe his tongue deeper into your core, fucking you with it to draw out more of your slickness. 

The sounds you were making seemed almost inhuman. You were convinced you had never had a true orgasm before if this is what they were supposed to feel like. Every lap of his tongue felt like its own crescendo. You were putty in his hands, figuratively and literally judging by the dampness beneath you. 

Eventually, he made his way back up your body, peeling away your shirt and bra, rustling out of his own clothes as quickly as he could, his muscular arms getting trapped in his jacket, stretching and pulling against his heavy bones for freedom.

“You alright, little bird?” He asked you softly, crawling over you and settling himself between your shivering thighs. 

You nodded,

“Yeah, that was so amazing, John. I know its selfish, but I need more. Can… can you fuck me? Please? I’m clean, I have an IUD. Please? I won’t —”

“Shh. Hush, love. I’m not leavin’ this room ‘til I’ve cured you, one way or another. C’mere.”

He pulled you to him, kissing you, covered in your come. You tasted yourself on his lips, and he was right: it was exactly like strawberries. It must have been the stimulant, you thought. Something to… entice… 

Your mind went blank as John began to feed his fat cockhead into your hole. All of the pain and the heat from the fever disappeared, and you were normal again. Well, a very horny normal, but at least you felt some relief. 

“Oh, my God!” You cried, “That’s it. That’s what I needed. Oh…”

“Yeah?” Price narrowed his eyes, studying your face, watching your reactions with rapt attention. Where you were stabilizing, he was falling apart at the seams. 

His whole body shuddered as he slid himself into you. It was shallow at first; he was too thick to fit inside of your tight pussy, no matter how wet you were. But, as he lubed himself up in your body, he squeezed deeper and deeper inside, eventually drilling down right to his base, slamming his hips into yours like a hungry machine. 

Your screams echoed in his small room, and the metal bed creaked under his enormous weight. You could feel his power through his thrusts. He was so incredibly strong, and his muscles bent and twisted just to serve your pleasure. It was hypnotizing to watch. You were focused on the straining sinew in his immense neck when another orgasm threatened to bubble over inside of you. 

It was too soon. You’d barely recovered from the first one, and as he felt your body start to contract around his shaft, he began to moan right along with you. 

“That’s it, Birdie, let it out. C’mon. Come for me… That’s it. That’s… ungh!” He coached you, talking you through it, fighting his own pleasure like the dragon it was, the heat of his breathing furling in hot bursts down your neck. 

His eyes were wrenched shut, but between his long, aching thrusts, he rambled, spilling out his words instead of himself inside of you like he wanted to. 

“Spar… don’t you know how badly I’ve wanted this?”

Your pussy was being pounded so hard you could feel your pulse slamming against your skin.

“...I’ve wanted you… wanted to feel you…”

His face was near yours, close enough that you could still smell your sweet slick on his beard. 

“...it’s so good. I never want it to stop. Feels like heaven…”

When he wasn’t speaking in that hoarse, smoldering timbre, you could see his jaw working against itself, fighting the inevitable. 

“...so damn responsive to me. Such a good girl…”

Then, his tone turned dark, burning into your face as he spoke against your cheek through gritted teeth, 

“You want more, hm?”

“Yeah…” You whispered, your voice sounding so small. 

“Harder? You want it harder, don’t you, little bird? I can tell.”

You nodded, whispering your pleading to him in wordless gasps. He smiled. You could feel it against your skin,

“Bloody hell. Bloody fuckin’ hell,” he lamented, rising up above you, wrenching his fingers around your waist, the gentleness gone from his touch, “Fuck, Birdie. You’ll make me come. You… ah!”

He brought you with him as he tumbled over the edge. You felt like you’d been hit with a flashbang. You couldn’t hear, and your vision went white. When you begged your lungs to breathe, you couldn’t take in the air. All you could feel — the only thing your body would allow you to feel — was each silky throb of his cock as it pumped his come inside of you. You could feel it as it burst from him, and then as it melted down your walls, flowing across his fleshy head. It was lava-hot, and you knew nothing except that you needed more. 

Price collapsed on top of you, his heavy, furry body sweaty and panting, gasping for air himself. He seemed spent, but you weren’t done. 

You flipped him, planting him on his back, enjoying the shocked look on his face, his eyes wide and uncertain. He couldn’t speak; there wasn’t enough time. But, as you began to rock back and forth on his softening rod, he cried out with something between pain and bliss. 

“Oh, fuck, love… wait! I’m… oh, shite…” 

“I’m… so sorry, John. I can’t stop…” You ground your swollen pussy down to his base, fucking him raw and wild, feeling his come slipping out of you in foamy smears. 

He nodded, hiding his eyes behind his palm, struggling to get his breathing under control,

“It’s alright, Birdie. It’s alright. Take what you need.”

As you rode him, he fully softened in you, and you cried out, trying everything you could to bring him back. Then, you watched as he fumbled across the end table, reaching for the blue pills the medic had left behind. He took one, and stared up at you,

“I’m sorry, love. C’mere.”

He grabbed your thighs, and with very little struggle, situated you across his face, grabbing your hips and pulling you down onto him, forcing you to put your weight on his jaw. He began to eat you out, licking long circles around your messy hole at first, and then he thrust his long tongue inside of you, rubbing his nose deep within your wet folds. 

You screamed for him then, trying to battle your insecurities and failing. It was overwhelming. The pleasure just built and built inside of you, mounting up and then… nothing. It remained there at its peak, a tightened coil, ready to bust. 

“John! John, I can’t… Help me, please.”

With all of his strength, he lifted you off of him, shoving you on all fours, situating himself behind you. 

All of his movements were rabid and unwieldy. He was struggling, trying to overcome his soporific pleasure to accommodate you. Hungry for you even though he’d recently been sated. 

Your chaos quieted for a moment when you felt his fingers prying your lips apart between your legs, slipping into you like a cork, sinking down to his knuckles into a perfect fit. 

“Oh, Sparrow. So fuckin’ soft. So sweet.” 

As he praised you, he ate you, pulling out more and more of your stickiness onto his hand, lapping you up with his tongue. You were coming unwound, and it felt amazing. It was as if he was pulling pulsing orgasms from your body on a long silk ribbon, one after the other, soft and slick, neverending. 

Then, finally, you felt his head tapping its way into your wet hole once more. Fucking you from behind seemed to be your commander’s preference. It was either that or he had become beyond overstimulated. His noises were a cross between whimpers and growls. He kissed his way up your back, sinking his sharp teeth into your neck and shoulder, grunting like an animal as he buried himself into you. 

“You’re so big. I feel so full,” you whispered to him, glancing over your shoulder as he knelt over you like a feral hound, bucking into you shamelessly. 

“Feels good, little bird? ‘M not hurtin’ you, am I?” 

“No, John. You’re perfect,” you found his jaw as he kissed your neck, nuzzling his face with your own, rubbing against him like a cat. 

“Gonna come for me, love? Squeezin’ the fuck out of my cock.”

“I can’t help it,” you cried, feeling hot tears run down your cheeks. You were so overwhelmed, your body was processing every sensation, fraying your nerves. He wiped your temple with his hand, 

“I know, Sparrow. I know. Let it out, love. C’mon. I can take it.”

“Nghah!” You screamed, trying to relax into the blinding pleasure, feeling your legs start to tremble from it.

“Mmm,” Price groaned deeply, sitting back on his knees as he felt you spill over the edge. Your sticky come coated his cock and the dense hair at his base, matting the dark fur, “Tha’s it, baby. Fuck, so wet.”

You sobbed through the orgasm as it wrecked your body. John gathered you up in his arms, taking the sheet with him, clutching you to his chest messily, still humping himself into you as gently as he could, but unable to quell his own lurid desire. 

“Lay down, Birdie,” your captain whispered, pulling the sheet away and pushing you prone into his mattress, “Try to breathe for me. Tha’s it.”

You tried to do as he commanded. You wanted to be good for him, but your breath kept hitching in your throat. You needed more, and you didn’t know how to get it. You writhed below him, feeling his cock slipping in and out of you, the wetness from your body pooling beneath you. 

“John, I’m still so hot. Feels like I’m losing my mind,” you looked at him over your shoulder, and you had to admit he didn’t look much better. He was spent, fucking you on auto-pilot at this point, letting nature take its own path. He was nothing more than base instincts at this point, and you could tell he was having trouble keeping himself tied down. 

He wanted to come again, you could feel it in how rigid his cock had become, helped by the pills. Something inside of you wanted to force his come from him, to make him explode in you again, filling you up. So, you pushed your hips back, arching your spine to allow more of his cock inside of your pussy, teasing him with your swollen hole. 

“Oh, fuck. Sparrow… don’t…”

“Does it feel good, John?” You asked, not following his orders for once, “Do I… make you feel good?”

“Holy fuck,” he spat, his voice dark and animalistic, unable to tear his eyes from where your bodies were joined together.  

You twisted your hips back and forth, effectively jerking him off with your drooling sheath, listening to his deep whining as you tormented him, pushing him to the brink but not fucking him fast enough to toss him over. 

“Little bird… Please…” John whimpered, overstimulated and eager to come.

“Tell me,” you teased him, not recognizing your own voice, “Tell me how you like it.”

“I fuckin’ love it. Just like that, Birdie. So damn good. Keep movin’ your hips like that, pretty girl. Gonna make me come again.”

You could feel his eyes watching you fuck him. He used his hands to pull your ass cheeks apart, giving him a bird’s eye view of both of your holes. You could feel the cool air rush across them, exciting you and making you shiver from the sensation. 

“So damn pretty,” Price crooned, whispering almost to himself, petting your stretched skin with his thumbs, smearing your wetness all over you.

You felt him grab your hair, right at the nape of your neck, forcing your back to arch, pulling you up to him, 

“You want me to come in you, little bird? You want my fuckin’ come? Hm? Tell me!”

“Nghh… Yes,” you hissed. His grip was so restricting, and you felt the air try to escape your throat, “Come. In. Me.”

“Sparrow!” Price shouted, releasing your hair to hold you across your belly, wrapping your body in his arms, ramming himself into you as deeply as he could, letting his cock spill into you once again. 

You were full of him. John was everywhere. He was wet and dripping within you, and as he fell to the bed with you, his body covered yours fully, wrapping you beneath him. You shifted a bit, convincing him to roll onto his side, kissing his neck and face, whispering sweet nothings to him as he caught his breath. 

“So good, John… You are so good to me,” you let your lips sink into his warm, panting mouth, letting your lips slide together. 

“Mmm,” he sighed, “Still hard. The medic was right about those pills.”

“I’m so sorry,” you straddled him again, humping against his still-rigid shaft, “I still need you, John. Please?”

“Sure, little bird. Ah! Oh, fuck, I’m sensitive. Easy… Ngh!”

“I’ll go slow,” you leaned forward to kiss him, capturing his long moan in your mouth. 

Suddenly, there was a quick knock at the door and then a slit of light as it creaked open. A skeletal gloved hand reached in with a stuffed bag and dropped it just inside the room before shutting it tightly again. 

Price removed you gently, watching you pout, and he explained,

“Laswell’s care package.”

“Come back, John,” you pulled his hand toward you as he opened the bag with the other.

He started laughing, letting you guide his cock back into you while he was standing at the edge of the bed. You watched as he pulled a couple of water bottles out of the bag and set them on the end table, still chuckling to himself. 

“Hey,” you pet your fingers through the hair on his belly as you writhed against him, “What’s funny?”

“Strawberries,” he smiled as he pulled a small box of the fruit from the bag, his eyes twinkling in the low light, “You want one, little bird?”

You nodded, but then felt the sudden emptiness of him removing his cock from you again. Then, with a devilish grin, you watched him dip the tip of the bright red fruit into your pussy, twirling it around in your juices, coating it with your thick stickiness, and then sucking it into his mouth, eating half of it and letting it drip down his chin. 

He brought it to your mouth, at the same time thrusting himself all the way inside of you, making you gasp,

“Open wide, love.”

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Dealing with zombies

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

Undead alien horde wanders into town Alien: Run for your lives! Human: Why? Alien: Monsters are coming!!! Alien 2: They can’t be killed! Human: So they’re undead? Alien: Yes!! Human: Goes home and revs chainsaw Fucking finally. ----------------------

Alien: Watches human carving through undead horde Alien: How are you so calm!?! Human: finishes carving through undead Me and my friends used to do stuff like this all the time when we were kids on Friday night. Alien: Are these undead such a problem on your world?! Human: Oh they flare up from time to time, but then the market gets saturated with them and people just lose interest. Alien: What the hells does that even mean!?!?” ---------------------

Alien: What are we going to do? Human: *swipes everything off table and lays out giant map Human: We need to reach the local Costcoooo Mart and seal it up. Human: The walls are at least two feet thick of concrete so we only need to worry about the main doors, emergency exits, and loading bays to seal up. Human: There should be enough fuel there to power generators and supplies to last us a while. Alien: *Looks down at detailed map with several cascading footnotes. Alien: Why do you have this? Human: Have what? Alien: This map…..why do you have it already prepared? Human: Oh, that. Human: Every human has a zombie plan ready; sometimes several. Alien: Really? Human: *Shouts down corridor Human: Yo STEVE! What’s your zombie plan? Steve: *shouts back from down the hall Steve: Take my family to countryside where it is isolated and hold fort on a farm until things blow over. Human: *Turns to alien Human: See? Everyone’s got one. -------------------

*Pair of humans and aliens sneaking through zombie infested streets Human 1: Alright; if we can make it to the train station we should be able to follow the rail lines out of the city. Alien 1: There are too many of them; we’ll never make it through. Alien 2: This will help. Alien 2: *Hefts large plasma pistol. Human 2: Are you crazy?! Human 2: No guns! Alien 1: Why would we not- Zombie: *Lurches over to them and groans Alien 2: *Panics and fires plasma pistol. *Zombie is cut in half by the weapon blast but the loud boom attracts every zombie in surrounding area towards them Human 2: That…..That is why genius.. -----------------------

Alien: Why do you prefer using melee weapons? Human: Because they don’t run out of ammo, are relatively quiet, and you look badass while using them. Alien: Really? Alien: You are using a cricket bat. Human: Badass right? Alien: To quote a human saying. Alien: “You look like a wanker.” --------------------

Alien: Why do the undead keep falling down? Human: *Watches zombies step forward and fall down Human: God bless undertakers. Alien: Huh? ---------------------

Alien: How can you be so calm about this? Human: They’re only human zombies, nothing to be worried about. Alien: Only…. Alien: What do you mean by that? Human: The real shit hits the fan when the animals start turning zombie. Alien: Like? Human: Zombees. Alien: What? Human: Zombie bees; Zombees. -----------------------

Alien: I’m still surprised you have a functioning vehicle during these times. Alien: Let alone one with such a lovely shade of red. Human: Well to be fair it was white this morning? Alien: Really? What happened then? Human: Speed bumps. Alien: Speed bumps? Human: So many speed bumps. ---------------------

*Zombie horde approaches Alien: Don’t worry, I got this! Human: Wait don- Alien: *Uses flame thrower on zombies Human: You idiot, that does not kill zombies! Alien: What?! *Sees flaming zombies now shambling towards them Human: Damnit you’re just making them deadlier! -----------------------

Alien: So you are saying I shouldn’t wear armor? Human: Some armor, but nothing heavy. Alien: Why? Alien: They wouldn’t be able to get through heavy armor. Human: True, but when they swarm you and drag you down you won’t be able to push them off. Human: So you’ll either starve or have them eventually rip the armor off you and eat you slowly. Alien: Why do I feel like you have debated this before? Human: It’s a tale as old as time…. -------------------------

Alien: We’re surrounded. Alien: *Looks down at dog. Human: Why are you looking at my dog like that? Alien: If we set the dog loose it’ll attract zombies and we can escape. Human: Ah, no. Human: We are not sacrificing my fluffy boy. Alien: But- Human: One more word and I’ll throw you to them instead. Alien: Surely you wouldn’t. Human: *Cocks pistol Human: It’s a gamble you will lose. Human: *Scratches top of dog’s head

[revelboo]

Ahhh you’re sky fire was soo good and star scream and sound wave im on the edge of my seat. Anyways if possible a part 2 for the big old scientist sky fire.

Sure!

Floating Down The River Pt 3

IDW Skyfire x Reader

• Servos pressed to your spine, he’s not sure if you’re only after his warmth or if you’re just an affectionate, little thing. Feeling your constant shivering as you shift against him, chilly little hands against his mesh to make him shudder. “Sorry,” you mumble as he vents, a leg outstretched, sitting on the cold ground. Not sure what to do now. Knows he could reach out to the Autobots, but he might end up sucked into the war when he just wants to maintain his pacifism and neutrality. So tired of the unending fighting.

• “It’s alright,” he says, deep voice rumbling through you where you’re plastered against his warm mesh, shamelessly leaching his heat since you’re still wet and freezing. And the giant robot, Skyfire, is being a good sport about it, tolerating your wet, icy self. And you’re too frazzled to be scared of him. If he was going to hurt you, he wouldn’t be trying to keep you warm. Probably. If you think of him as your own iron giant with a much bigger vocabulary, he’s not so scary at all.

• “What are you doing out here, anyway?” You ask, a knee sliding against him, your breath distractingly warm on his mesh. Fidgeting as he tries to figure out how exactly to answer that. Because right now? He’s living under a bridge, only returning to the Ark to have to beg for energon, but refusing to stay and listen to Optimus try to convince him to join a war that goes against everything he believes in. That he’d still refuse to join even if his best friend wasn’t on the wrong side of.

• “I like it out here. Your world’s lovely. Alive,” he says slowly and that last word catches at you. Alive. Like maybe his world isn’t. Maybe he’d come here as a refuge because he didn’t have a choice? “I’m sorry about earlier. I have to remain hidden.” Yeah, you can get that. Because the government would only see a threat or a weapon they can use. And what he wants wouldn’t matter at all, would it? For some reason the thought of this big, gentle guy getting used, maybe hurt bothers you. It’s silly to feel protective of a giant, alien robot, especially considering there’s nothing you could really do to help him if he did need it. But he could have let you drown and any worries about you ratting him or would have died with you, but he’d saved you anyway even knowing you might still betray him.

Previous

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[mehiwilldoitlater]

Black Cloud, Red Fire (Part 1)

(part 2) (part 3)

Black Wind Mountain.

Once a temple in the forest, full of prayers, life, and worshippers. Now, a lair for Yougais and their master.

Everything was silent, except for the song of nature that made that place almost harmless. Untill the sound of panting, foot on the Rocky pavement, and broken leaves emerged.

"Ugh...I should have done cardio...UFF!"

The Destined One, the monkey that had convinced you to follow him, stopped on his tracks to look at his surroundings and gave you the time to catch up. He snickered a little, looking how disappointed you were after the climb on the side of the mountain. He offered you his hand, allowing you to avoid a few more steps before reaching him.

"Not a very outdoor one, uh?"

"I'm more...sitting on the couch person."

"What's a couch?"

"Something BEAUTYFULL....wow..."

You would never get used to the view here: from where our eyes could reach, there was just forest. The mountains were covered in it, and so were the few hills that appeared, giving you almost the idea that you were walking on the backs of thousands of sleeping giants. Here and there, you were able to spot the roof and the spires of small pagodes and temples.

Some prove that once these places were abitated or at least visited by humans and mortals. 

Now, the old structures were black and decaying, a sign that a fire had started so many years ago and what couldn't be saved was left to the wilderness. You both avoided those structures, finding them quite crumbling and dangerous, but nothing stopped you from admiring them.

The air was rarefied, giving you some trouble breathing and forcing you to make more deep inhales. Your companion, used to the high place of birth, had no issues at all, but he gave you the chance to rest and get used to the altitude.

"It feels so unreal... it's like a painting."

"You don't have places like these in your world?"

"Well yeah, but... not so beautiful like this one."

It was even funny to believe that such a beautiful place like this one could hold such dangers as the Yaoguais or whatever was holding the relic of the Great Sage. After another few minutes of adjusting, the two of you continue your way inside the woods, leaving behind the security of the open space.

The light was dim despite the sun high in the sky; the thick of the branches was mostly the cause of it. Walking near your companion, you started to notice how hard it would become trying to look in front of you or even notice the presence of whatever could attack you both.

"Su-sure, this place is...dark."

"Umm.. stay close, okay?"

You pick up the peace, holding tight to your snack on your back, regretting that you didn't ask for a weapon before leaving Mount Huaguo.

"Hely, listen..." You finally spoke up after a few minutes. "Are you sure that the relic is in this...very lovely and absolutely not filled with dangers?"

"Ummm...i guess?"

"YOU GUESS?!" Your voice echoed in one second through the forest; a few birds flied away, afraid of the sudden change. The monkey instantly shushed you.

"We're in enemy territory!"

"...You guess?! You don't know if it's here?!"

You were FURIOUS. Not only they started to blabber about you being some kind of being that were supposed to help them bring back an old legend, almost forcing you to participate, and now the same one that convinced you to give a try to this damn plan that could maybe bring you back home is unsire if that damn thing is in that damn forgotten place?! After that long road?! You really wanted to take that staff of his and smash it on his head! He shushed you again, trying to calm you down to avoid calling too much attention to you two.

"Okay, I know, this sounds crazy, but I can assure you that we have ideas! Firstly, there's a dangerous amount of Yaoguais in this area, and second, did you remember that funny little game that we did back at our mountain?"

"You mean me pointing my finger to a random place on a map just because I felt a tingle in my stomach?"

"Yup." Your eyes widened so much that you could feel your eyelash touch your forehead. You wanted to scream so hard that even whatever gods lived up there could hear you, but before you could, the monkey putted his hand on your mouth.

"There, there, let it all out," he said, while you were just muffling your scream on his hand. When you finally were finished and your breath was out, he removed his hand from your face, allowing you to mumble some curses under your breath.

"So we could be somewhere and find nothing?"

"Or we could be in the right place!"

You grumbled again, now more worried than before about your return to your original world. He sighed. Of course this was absurd to you; everything was, but you needed to trust him a little.

"I know it's hard, but... I believe in you. I know we're on the right path!"

"At least one of the two does..." You mumbled, kicking a rock near you, scratching your arm a little. You really wanted to believe him and in you, but to you, it was just so difficult to do it, especially since you were a complete no one...They all tell you you were some kind of powerful thing, this Bián huá, and yet you couldn't believe a single thing like this.

Looking at you, he guessed that you were still having doubts. He opened his mouth to say something when-

"On the go, bent the toe,

Life of a human, all for gold."

A voice, not far from you both, could be heard from your position. Someone was coming! The monkey looked at you, and a mischievous grin appeared on his face.

"Go and hide in the bush! I'll show you what I can do!"

You fastly follow his instructions, hiding behind some bushes on your right, while the voices get closer and closer. The monkey suddenly vanished under a cloud, only to be replaced with a ripe peach! What's he doing now? On the clearing, just when the smoke disappeared, appeared two... wolves?

They were walking on their two back legs, and like humans, they were wearing some clothes and holding their furr on their heads like some human hairstyles. The both of them were holding a sword; maybe they were scouting the area for some food? You didn't know, but you were sure worried for your monkey! 

"Nowhere better than our home,

We cheat death and ever grow."

One of the two, the one that had his sword already drawn, noticed the fake peach on the ground, emitting a sound of surprise and showing a huge grin on his maw, and immediately went to take it in his paw.

"Here, you see? What bliss my fate shows!" How the hell that big dog was talking?!

"Well well! Luck's around the corner. Seems like it just fell from a fruit tree here." Said the other wolf, looking around in the search for the tree. You really hoped he didn't see you or smell you!

"Perfect timing! This peach knew I needed a snack!" And, after having cleaned it a little from the dust and played with it in his hand, the wolf took a huge bite on the fruit without a second guessing. In that moment, a cry of pain escaped from him, and he threw away the peach, alongside a few of his own teeth and some fur that the monkey must have pulled with it. Once on the ground, after a few jumps, the same smoke from before reappeared, and the fruit turned back to his simian original form.

"You sneaky rascal!" said the wounded wolf. "Dare to fool me?! I'll make sure you'll regret it!"

Before the two wolves could launch their attacks on the monkey, he had already drawn his own weapon from his ear and charged towards the two. You had seen him fight before, and it was always a show that left you in a haze. Violence wasn't a nice view, but his moves, his precision, his strength—it was surely something!

In a few minutes, the two wolves were already defeated and turned to dust, and you reemerged from your hiding spot.

"Wow...that's what you could only say.

"See? told you I could protect you."

"Well, you surely could... but the transformation was really necessary?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by someone.

"No matter how many times you come around. You are still as mischievous as ever, eh?"

An old voice suddenly started to be heard. It was an old one, cranky, and somehow friendly. The both of you started to look around, only to find only trees, rocks, and falling leaves. The monkey immediately came closer to you, looking around and sniffing, but beside the smell of the two wolves, there was nothing—just nature.

"Did...you hear that?" 

"Yer," he said, guarding you.

"Good! I'm not crazy then!"

"And there's the Bián huá! All of you, always doubting your own security!"

You gulped loudly; he could hear you?! But that means he's near?! Then why even the monkey couldn't spot this mysterious old man?!

"Looks... looks like someone is watching us..."

"Um..." he looked at you, noticing your now frightening look, your eyes searching for the source of the voice. He held your hand in his own, gently giving you a small pull. "Came one. I'm sure that we'll find who's talking up ahead."

And so, the two of you started to take the road from where the two wolves had come from, realizing then that, if there was something, it was supposed to be there for sure. The more you started to clumb the path of the mountain, more enemies started to come. They were all wolves, and all of them were supposed to be the front guard of this mysterious place that, for some reason, started to make you feel... uneasy. 

You couldn't put your hands on it, but it reminded you of the strange feeling in your stomach, yeah, the map one. Only that, this time, became stronger and stronger the more you two explored the mountain.

After another turn, the smell of incense reached both of you, and a small smoke caught your attention. Two fires were located at the sides of a small structure, a house in miniature. The closer you get, the more it becomes clear that it was a small shrine, far more detailed and more decorated than the one that you saw on Mount Huaguo. Suddenly, just like before, the same old voice started to ring again around you two.

"Aaah! Wha-what are you waiting for?! Pluck your hair and make an offer!"

You looked at the monkey, raising an eyebrow.

"...Uh...my hair?"

"There." He showed you that, after taking a few hairs from his head, their form changed into a thin and long incense stick that he lit with a few movements of his hand.

"See?"

"I can't do that. Mine is normal hair."

"Ooo, stop making silly excuses! Try it on!"

"Okay okay okay! Geez, I can't believe that I'm listening to a mysterious voice."

You imitated the same motion of the monkey, and, after a small glow, in your hand there was the same incense stick!

"But... did I do that?!"

"See? Always questioning! Now hurry up! Both of you!"

You both put the incense stick inside the small pot full of sand, and, as one surprise wasn't enough, another magic happened in front of you: the decoration of the shrine started to grow like branches, and, in a swirl of petals, pink peach flowers started to bloom under your eyes.

"It's...normal?"

"In some places, yes..."

"...So,...what now?" The monkey shrugged off at your question and made a few steps ahead. Before you could follow, the voice called upon you two once again.

"Hey! Wait!"

A smoke, just like the one that has been summoned by your monkey companion when he transformed, appeared again, but this time in front of you there was what reminded you of an old potato.

He was what you could imagine to be the personification of the concept of old. His legs and arms were so thin that it was strange that he could even move; his bald head, covered in some strange bumps similar to some roots, was covered in wrinkles and some spots here and there; and the white hairs that happened to be his eyebrows and beard covered his facial features that made it hard to see his eyes and mouth.

His robes, tinted in a deep blue, seemed quite elegant, despite their age. His weight was supported by an old wooden staff, curved to the end, and in his other hand a small stick. Does it remind you of a back scratcher?

"I, the keeper of Black Wind Mountain," he said while coughing, cleaning his clothes from the dust. "I have long been waiting for your arrival."

That old voice—he was the one that spoke to you before in the clearing! That old, small thing was the keeper of this mountain?! 

"Let's see... the new Bián huá, eh? Well, you seem in good health," he said while pointing your side with his scratchback. "It will compensate for the lack of faith."

"Hey!" you ward off the wooden object while his continuous touch started to bother you.

"And she has some character on her, a good starting point..and you..." His eyes fell on the monkey, the destiny one. For a moment you feared that he could fall on his old and be ready to crash back, but he regained his stability in a few steps.

"Oh! His spitting image...I'd say."

Of who? You looked at the monkey, and he seemed almost proud? Was the keeper talking about... Sun Wukong? Well, all monkeys looked the same to you, so maybe it was the old age that talked...

"You were waiting for...him?" You pointed at the monkey; the old man just laughed a little at your naiveté.

"Child, I was waiting for both of you! For the Destined one and the Bián huá!" He walked over you two, pointing at the passage that extended ahead of you, between the rocks and the trees.

"Up ahead is Guanyin Temple. Once, it was bustling with worshippers before it was ruined by that fire."

His tone, before proud of the past of the place, became grave when he pointed at the proof of the tragedy that had happened there: skulls, human skulls. Come to think of it, those weren't the first you saw in the area... How many people had died there?

"What...fire?"

"You said you heard of the story, right?" The monkey said, recognizing what the old man was talking about, "You remember about the Elder Jinchi and the Kasaya?"

You pondered a little. You weren't that costumed about it, but you know that, perhaps, that was the cause of the fire.

"Yes, children..." said the keeper, pointing up ahead. "Then the temple was rebuilt." He suddenly turned to you, expressing a questioned and angry tone, "But what good is it to rebuild a temple if the good will of men has been burned to ashes?"

You kneeled near one of the skulls. It was so...small...the fear of the age of the one that once was in front of you struck you.

"But...it was rebuilt...then why the Yaoguais are here?" The monkey spoke, looking at the old man, still curious about the whereabouts of the temple.

"Monks came, men too, and they tried to rebuild life here! But that bear...he led his minions here!....Who couldn't escape had faced a bitter end."

"But...you're the keeper of this place...the deity of the mountain..." you finally spoke, following the step of the monkey. "You could take care of them, right? There as to be some way to fix this place!"

"I would! But that damn bear...he had brought something so powerful that even I couldn't match!"

Something that he couldn't match?... The eyes of the monkey gleamed, looking up at the mountain.

"The relic...it must be the relic!" He turned to you, ejoyed by this news: "You were right! You foudn it!"

"I...found it?" You repeated, "I... did! I did! ...oh...."

You soon realized what that meant, and suddenly, another sound emerged from the dark. A long, strong, and eerie howl of something that scared even the keeper and manmy birds that had already flied away from their previous location.

"You forgot this place," said the keeper, retreating away from the passage, "but they haven't forgotten you!"

You stod in your position, scavared by the sudden change of atmosphere, while the monkey observed the passage with caution, expecting everything to appear from it at any given moment. The old man, like he had appeared, disappeared in the cloud of smoke.

"That's a tough one. Good luck to you!"

And these were his last words, before you and your companion were left alone again. More than before, you felt an amount of emotion that you couldn't describe, but when you looked at the road where you came from, some doubts arose in you. The monkey noticed your fear, and he waited for your reaction.

Despite the desire to run, you simply couldn't. You stayed there, eyeing the entrance and your only way out. When you finally turned to the entrance, where you sure didn't want to go, you gulped.

"There's no turning back from there...right?" The monkey sighed; he wanted to tell you that you could just turn back and that he could handle it, but he couldn't say that; he knew that it was a lie.

This was supposed to be made in two.

"If you don't trust in yourself... then trust in me... trust in my ability."

He lends his hand towards you... and, with fear, doubt, and so many regrets, you take it, slowly entering the passage alongside him.

///

From that moment on, the forest became full of wolves. It was hard to advance without encountering a new enemy, and every time your companion never showed a moment of stress or panic, he only charged, attacking those enemies without trace of fear. Your only option, by your side, was to stand back, hide, or just... watch. You couldn't do more...even if, isnide, it made you quite nervous.

"Don't you get tired?"

"No, I've been doing this since I was a cup!"

"I wish I could help more." You scratched your arm again; it must have been a sign that showed your stress he had noticed. He just packed your back, swinging his tail.

"If you like, I can teach you a few tricks! Once we're back home with the relic, we'll have plenty of time!"

"You...would?" It felt nice. He didn't show off your anxiety about your role in that mission; instead, he just wanted to help you get confidence by taking some steps ahead. It was a nice gesture, even if you were quite unsure about if it could really help you.

"Of course!" he laughed. "We're both in this!"

You nodded. It was true; you were both in that.

The sound of the water became of a falling one, a sign that the river nearby became a waterfall. You were walking by it, searching for a few herbs, when you both became interested in taking and collecting when you heard something else. Another voice; it wasn't from the keeper, of course, but it wasn't like the ones from the wolves either. To be fair, there were no wolves now that your companion had cleaned the area.

When the sound of the waterfall became stronger, that's when you noticed.

"Monkey! Look over there!" You finger pointed towards a figure. Curved on her back, her white, messy hair spiked the most on het dark attire. The clothes were old and raggy, and by the jiggle he was wearing some wooden jewels. The long and thin hair and his colorful muse give away immediately her species. Your companion suddenly came closer, looking where your finger was pointing, noticing the creature.

"A Mandrill! There near the edge of the waterfall!" You kept saying. You didn't know what she was doing; it seemed like she was searching for something or trying to collect it from a stone, quite big, that rested in the center of the stream. The low level of the water allowed the rock to be accessible to the mandrill, but she seemed like whatever she was trying to rescue was stuck or simply unavaible.

The baboon must have heard your voice, and suddenly she stopped his doing with the rock, spinning away from it. You gasped when you saw her launch herself to the cliff, moving forward. But when you reached the same edge, you saw nothing there.

"She should be at least around..."

"I don't think that was a simple Mandrill, Y/N." The monkey that had reached your side was in time to take you and pull you back from the edge, fearing a fall.

"Was she your friend? Do you know her?"

"I never saw her in my entire life. Hey, hold on!" He looked at you, his hand on his hips. "It's not like we monkey know each and every one of us!"

"Well," you keep it up, mimicking his gesture, "you called each other brother and sister! And meeting a familiar face wouldn't be so bad here!"

He chuckled, giving you a small push. Then, both of your eyes landed on the rock that the baboon was inspecting, and curiosity took over.

"What do you think she was doing?"

"Well, let's take a look!" He went closer to the rock, and there you both realized that it wasn't completely a rock. It was a head—a big rocky head—maybe one of a statue that once must have been a decoration of the long-lost temple. The expression of the man that was depicted was calm and relaxed, his earlobe long; maybe a Buddha? The monkey started to clean the area and noticed some scratching at the base of one of the closed eyes of the statue. It seemed like he was trying to make a hole in it...

"Maybe there's a switch or-" And just when your hand touched the statue, suddenly its eyes wide opened. One of the two cavities of pure stone, but the one where the Mandrill was scratching was hollow and contained something. A sphere, pure white, the only color a red must at the center, discolored by the time. It wasn't smooth at all, but at the touch it was perceptible—some spirals, decotrating the orb.

"...What is it?" You asked curious, tapping the orb with your finger.

"I don't know... but it seems important; let's keep it!" And so, the orb soon vanished inside his own sack.

"You surely are one that loves to collect staff around, eh?"

"Well, if something is useful..."

You chukled a little, leaving the stream at your back. Keep it up with your ascension on the mountain. It didn't take long that now you would face another obstacle, and oooh boy, what an obstacle!

Guarding the gate, a huge Yaoguais was holding a huge Helberd, moving back and forward, ready to strike whoever crossed his path, or it was unlucky enough to meet it. It reminded you of some kind of bull, but he was pretty messed up to be one... The thing that really concerned you was the fact that he was practically in front of the gate; it was impossible to miss without a fight. Hiding behind a tree, you looked at your companion, who, without if or but, just took his own staff, ready to get in action.

"Stay here; be careful not to be spotted and to run."

"Run?"

"Just in case, wish me luck!" and so he marched towards the bull that, as soon as he had spotted him, he followed his example.

The two started to clash their weapons immediately, and you could clearly see that the monkey had the advantage of his small stature and his agility. He avoided all of his attacks in a few steps, which made the bull upset and more aggressive. And the guai had one more thing in his arsenal: he was scarily strong. Despite his massive stricture, the guai was able to make some huge jumps, creating such waves in his impact that the monkey needed to be careful around to avoid falling down and became an easy prey.

Unfortunely, the monkey made a misstep: in the attempt of blocking the helberd, the bull struck with full force, catching the opponent like a rag doll, and, after a good spin to get velocity, slammed him on the ground. He rose his helberd, ready to stride.

"NO!"

You screamed, leaving the tree where you were hiding, but before something could happen, a golden aura wrapped around the bull and, just before his last strike over the monkey could be delivered, his entire body stopped. It wasn't just stopped because he had stopped the attack, but because his entire body was like frozen!

You immediately went to the monkey side, checking the damage from the last strike. He was incredibly untouched; the helbard must have struck him in the side where there was no blade and just acting as a hammer. His body may be fine, but he had felt that.

"Oh God, oh God, are you okay?!"

"Ugh...It...hurt!"

Maybe not lethal but a bruise really was surely ready to appear there. You grasped his gourd, helping take a sip of that strange magic juice that the old monkey entrusted you both to take in case of these kinds of damages. After a gulp, the monkey lamented the savor of the concuun, but he was fine at least!

"The bull?!" He looked at you, ready to defend you.

"Ehm ..."

You pointed at his opponent, Frozen in One Place. Then you heard some ruffles, some paint of fatigue, and...the keeper?!

Somehow, he had started to climb the bull back and, once reached its shoulder, he took a jump from it, falling on his two sticked legs. 

"It's been a while, but the Immobilize Spell still works like a charm!" He laiughed, clearly satisfied and somehow proud to show you both some of his own ability. You, on the other hand, were more interested in helping the monkey get back on his feet, preoccupied with finding more damages from the foe. Lucky for you, the juice was able to cure all of his wounds, even if the hurt of the strike still lingered.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes...huff, he almost got me..." He looked at the now immobilized bull, still ready to send his last strike on him. "A trick like this could be very useful around here."

"Well, since you hail from Mount Huaguo, it won't hurt to teach you a handy trick."

The monkey looked at him, still recovering from the fall, when the old man started to move his wooden hand around. It started to emit a soft light and some sparkle.

"Now, here we go; give me your hand!" And, without wait or but, the same small wand emitted a light that struck towards the monkey. You companion, fearing for another attack, immediately covered his face with his hand, but instead of pain, he felt... nothing?

Not nothing; he felt the same sensation when you pour warm water on your arm—harmless and somehow nice. He felt the sensation rise to his arm, to his shoulder, and then disappear, leaving only a sigyl on the palm of the same hand. You both noticed that it was the same symbol above the bull head.

"There you go, "continued the old man, while the two of you were observing the sign, in a mix of surprise and curiosity. "Should you come across any miscreants, just point your finger at them and release this spell. You'll be able to hold them in place while giving yourself a breather."

The monkey studied more his hand, carefully seeing the sign slowly disappearing on his skin, while you looked at the old man with a gleam of hope.

"It's going to come in handy around here!" said the monkey, his confident smirk coming back on his face.

"It would be so helpful if I could learn something like this too." 

"My child," said the old man, chukling at your naivety. "In this world, muscles and brute force are not the only weapons that you can possess!" And, knowing who you are, a spell like this is a joke for you!"

"I...can learn it too?" You looked at the bull, and, in a rush of courage, you took some steps in front of it.

You waved your hand in front of it and, noticing that it was pretty much impossible for it to move, you laughed, running back to your companion, who instintly put you behind him, like ready to defend you if that thing was ready to move again.

"It's amazing!" you said in joy. "With this trick, we can avoid so many fights!"

"Y/n," the monkey said to you, disconsolate," we can't just avoid every fight we have in front of us."

"He's not right, child," the old man sighed. "Sadly, mine is but an humble trick. Its power will wear off within a few short moments."

"Moments?!" you gulped, jumping back. "And when were you expecting to tell us that?!"

"I told you that it's not that simple!" Monkey came back to his fighting stance, while you took a step back, taking more distance from the upcoming fight.

"Ah ah, yes, yes, I know, not a great spell; thought it's good enough against boneheads like this one!" He pointed again to the bull with a teasing tone. "Anyway, just consider it an ace up your sleeve."

As soon as he finished his speech, the blow that was stopped suddenly crashed to the ground; the golden aura had dissipated from the bull, and it was angry.

The keeper was able to retreat from the scene, clearly shaken by the sudden release of the bull that now pointed to the monkey and you furious.

"The Yaoguais these days know no manners!"

"Y/n! Stand back!" His immediate thought came to your own safety; now the bull had seen you, and every chance could be good for it to attack you!

"FEAR NOT! "screamed the keeper to you and the monkey, "Teach him a lesson with your new spell!"

As soon as the old man had disappeared, the bull went on the offensive, more aggressive than he was before. You had to retreat as best as you could to avoid the fight and to be spotted by the giant creature. He needed more minutes to adjust to this new technique, but just when the bull tried to play the same trick from before, the monkey was ready and used the spell against it. 

It stopped! It was completely immobile! You gasped for the excitement, and, after the monkey had gifted you a small wink like to tell you to watch, he suddenly launched himself to his counterattack.

The bull was free after a few moves, but it was more shaken than before and pretty much hurt. He needed another good strike, but after that the monkey was able to put down his opponent and, just like the others, disappeared in a cloud of dust.

"You did it!" YOU DID IT! YOU USED THE SPELL!"

You jumped to him in joy; he freed the passage! And now he learned a new trick! He was just amazing!

He patted your shoulder, laughing a little like you, with a soft shade of red on his cheeks. "Yes, yes, I did it! But it's not over yet!"

He pointed to the now-opened passage—the road ahead of you.

///

"If it wasn't for the wolves ready to kill us, I would love to take a picnic here."

"Pic nic?"

"When you bring lunch outside and eat in the wild. I used to do it a lot when I went on the mountain to my grandparents during the summer."

Monkey seemed always interested in knowing your past; it seemed like, despite all, you had an almost normal childhood...noyt like its own...always training, always giving his best...well, he loved to make some pranks here and there, but the others had always considered him the responsible one of the bunch.

While walking, your attention was taken by an unusual sight: it must have been a balcony in the past; now what was left was only the old decoration of the door, the structure to the outside, and the wood that composed the floor. Two small pillars, decorated with two figures of what presumebly was Guanyin, were on the sides of a cushion and, in front of it, an incense holder.

"Someone use this place..."

"It must be a meditation point, to meditate...a great spot, even..."

You looked to the monkey; why so? It was in the middle of nowhere. By his looks, lost in the horizon, you followed his example. It was quite beautiful and calming. He then decided to take a place in the cuschion and ask you to follow him.

"Came on! It helps the mind!"

"I'll just watch. I'm not good alone with my thought."

"As you wish..."

His eyes closed, his face relaxed, like every muscle of his body. He seemed like a statue in that pose, and by how quickly he was able to communicate, or he needed a lot, or he just was used to that practice. You, instead, decide to sit at the edge of the structure, sighing and admiring the view.

He was right; it wasn't just beautiful; it was calming. You closed your eyes, letting the mountain breeze caress your cheeks and air, allowing it to enter your nostrils and your lungs.

You could hear so many things like that—the creaking of the wood, the howling of a few wolves in the distance, the leaves that moved in the branch—since when these sounds were so hard to listen to in your world?

In the distance, mountains could be seen, and, not far from your spot, structures that maybe once were habitated by humans and monks. Knowing that such a desolation happened in that place, yet nature decided to reclaim that portion of the world, taking back what had been taken away.

You sighed again, more air in your lungs...then a hand shaken you.

"Don't do this on the edge, at least! You can take a place near me!"

"You gave me a heart attack!"

"And how was I supposed to feel when I saw you there, ready to fall?!"

"Okay, I'm sorry! I'll do it with you next time!"

He seemed pleased; at least he wasn't obligated to catch you from a dead fall on a cliff!

"You were right. It's beautiful... Yaoguais aside."

"Yes, I don't know what's going to happen after we take the relic back from the Black Bear, but maybe things are going to get better."

"I just..." you scratched your arm. "I just hope the monks that died here can find a piece."

The image of that skull was still fresh in your mind. It scared you, yes, but it was most definitely sad. They must have been so scared alone. He looked at you with fondness; your thoughts decided to go to the ones that had suffered. You must have had quite a big heart. He took your hand, smiling.

"They'll be glad to know that we're taking care of this...now..." he pointed at two fires, both of the at the sides of a passage, an opening on the rocky walls of the mountain. "We must go. There's still a long road for us."

You nodded, and so you went back to your journey.

///

"We had to pass..."

"There are like...a LOT of wolves there, and I have a really bad feeling!"

"But we can't just stop here!"

"Well, we can't surely move forward like this?!"

Since he had made it clear that there was more enemy ahead, the two of you started to discuss what to do, but it seems like it was harder than you both thought. He sensed a lot of enemies ahead, and if he had to make a safe road, protecting you wasn't easy. You wanted to search a safe path, but there wasn't something like this right there, and he wanted to march in and take care of the problems right there.

"Listen, I'm going in."

"Monkey, please let's just-"

"Hey! Wait! You don't think you can just parade in, do you?! It's not that simple!"

As again, the old man had decided to appear and gave some help to the two of you. You gave a sigh of relief. Finally, that could actually listen to you!

"Finally! I was trying to tell him! We must take another path!"

"Dear one, there's no other path here!"

"Ah, ah!" the monkey smuggled on your face. "See? No path! ...So, any other suggestion, old keeper?"

"But of course I do! Let me transform you into a golden cicada, so you may follow the fires ahead and scout this mountain unnoticed."

He pointed to a series of fires that started to streech across the forest, a way to move across the darkness of the trees, especially during cloudy days or the night. With the same movements of his wand, the old man created the same light from the last time and, once again, struck the poor monkey.

"Wait wait! I can do it by my"

"FLY!"

"SELF!"

Like before, the poor monkey was completely helpless against the magic of the so helpful keeper, and instead of the young, bold monkey, now there was a small insect, with golden shades, flying around. The old man laughed, looking how confused the small cicada was trying to recall his surroundings. Now, there was this little inconvenience...

"But..." you pointed to your still humanoid body. "What about me?"

"Umm...a cicada is hard. You need a lot of control to move so many little arms and legs. Let's see. Let's see. Something simple, something helpless, something...ah!"

"Wait! Let me at least prepare my-"

Without a warning, you were the second victim of the Keeper magic, but you weren't what you were expecting. You looked at your now fluffy paw, a small cottontail, and very long ears.

"A rabbit?! Why can't I fly too?!"

"It's harder than it looks, child! Now, it might be humble, but my shrine is very versatile. You'll get it soon enough."

And, with these words, the Keeper disappeared in another cloud of smoke, leaving the cicada and the bunny alone.

"It's not fair. I wanted to fly too!"

"If it makes you feel better," said the cicada in a very pinch-high voice, "you look fluffiest than ever."

You two laughed a little before hearing for the last time the old Keeper.

"In the depths of Black Winf Mounain, there are secrets galore. These transformations may help you explore, but be wary; this form does not last forever."

"What do we do if we get lost?"

"Should you find yourself lost, just follow my voice. Now, off you go!"

You two looked at each other and, uncertain, started to move.

He had it easier; he could just fly around without getting spotted! You needed to act as natural as possible! Somehow, the wolves seemed more interested in cooking the ones that they already had than huunting you, so you were able to move around, alongside other bunnies and racoons, without fear of being taken.

When the two of you had the impossibilities to avoid the wolves, you were able to listen to them talk. It seemed that your presence in the mountain has been spotted, but they weren't sure of where you were or what your real intention was. As much as they knew, they only knew about a shapeshifter and a mortal alongside him. They also talked about a certain lord... maybe an affiliate of the bear?

Well, at least like that, you could avoid so many troubles... Somehow, you felt a little more safe in the shape of such a helpless animal. You both kept on going, following the fire as instructed, finding the way easier that you expected to find.

"Look! I can see the end of the trail of fire, Y/N!" The small voice of the monkey called you out from the bushes, pointing with his antennea at what was supposed to be the less populated area.

"Finally, being a bunny is... not... so."

You felt something inside you. You felt...a calling. 

You turned around; there was another of those old porches, one that the fire had only ruined but not destroyed. You looked in that direction, and you were sure it came from there.

"We just need to cross; we're so...Y/N?"

You weren't anymore near the bushes, so he got closer and started to roam the small area.

"Y/n? Y/N?!" He called, louder this time and much more worried. He couldn't see you. Where did you go?! Why did you leave all of a sudden?!

You couldn't hear his call; there was something else that held your attention. It was the same pull in your chest that called you towards the relic, but it was...different. It felt like stagnant water, a mix of smells that you couldn't quite get. 

It was a large clearing; the wall of the mountain and a cliff, secured with a parapet, gave them a natural circular shape. Besides trees and plants, fog covered the area, hiding a wooden structure in the same area. You couldn't put your hand on it, but something was there—something big and round. You jumped closer, not noticing the aura of fiery eyes looking at your every movement. Before you could get closer, a large pressure came to your delicate neck; a hand with a sharp claw had you now in his clutches. 

"Well, well... and what do we have here?

Avoiding screaming helped you to keep your bunny form, but you couldn't hold a gasp when you saw the wolverine creature that was holding you by your neck. Now you were in big trouble!

The wolf was different from the other; he seemed older and calmer. His robe reminded you of one of a monk, but it was so old and lacerated. His old mansion was so ruined, almost burnt here and there. Despite his strength, his claw gently held you and took you in his arm, holding you in place. You felt his rough fingers scratching your head, confusing you more than before.

"It's not a safe place for a small one like you. Humans and wolves love eating your flesh. I used to eat your kind when I was younger; now I can only remember the hunt."

Oh, so he didn't eat bunnies? He could have eaten humans, though.

Besides him, a long staff was stuck into the ground, a double blade to each end. You noticed now that the blade was strange in certain places; it seemed like it had burned. Now, in his arms, you could see clearly what was holding the structure: a bell, a giant bell made of iron.

It was simple, besides the decorations, like many other bells around... then why you seemed to be pulled by it.

You jumped from the wolf arms, sniffing and getting closer to the giant metal object.

"I never saw bunnies interested in bell... I suppose to guard it...but you don't look like a treat."

Well, not now at least.

You made another jump, much closer; now your small paw was able to reach the bell when, in your head, his sound started to echo so hard that it was painful.

Your body couldn't handle it, so you scream, holding your small rodent head in those paws, scaring the wolf, and, with any chance to control it, the pain forced you to release your true form.

You were still holding your head when you noticed the wolf, now holding his weapon.

"You... you tried to trick me, human?!" You gulped and tried to get back, finding yourself stuck between the wolf and the bell.

"I-i didn't-" Then, a sound or rustling and footstep caught your and the wolf's attention.

"Who goes there?! How dare you interrupt my meditation?"

And so, the face of a very worried monkey appeared from the fog and the shadow, looking at you with apprehension by your vicinity with the Yaoguai. The wolf looked at him, and a small smile came to his face, far more sinister than the one that he had shown you before.

"Hmmm...another monkey I see?" He asked, almost happy to see him. The blade in his hand started to change; it became red like it was on fire. Hold on, IT WAS ON FIRE!

"Why don't you lay down your weapon and join me in Buddha's mercy?" His weapon had made a few swifts on the ground; the dead leaves, the herbs, and whatever that thing was touching suddenly started a small fire, separing you from your companion.

"What say you?!"

He needed to connect; the wolf was already on his tail when he marched on! He needed to get you out of there before the fire could reach you; luckyly, you took cover behind the giant bell! Maybe he had time; he just needed to calm him down before it was too late!

That wolf was old, but he was a formidable foe! His swing was like he had never seen anyone do it, and every strike was precise and destructive. It was just like a fire; you couldn't control it; you could just watch and hope it doesn't destroy more.

But he needed to fight that fire!

He used the spell that the keeper had taught him and started again to attack his opponent. Sometimes, out of the blue, the wolf was able to persome formidabvòe aerial attacks, where even the monkey found trouble defending himself. Sometimes he was even able to rush like he could fly, and the fire just made him stronger.

Fighting him wasn't easy, but with the help of the spell and the fact that his own technique didn't need too much energy to be imposed, the monkey was soon the victorious one of the duels.

The wolf fell on the ground, covered in bruises and blood; his fur was now more burned than before. His eyes cast between you, now free to move while the monkey was killing the fire, and his opponent.

"You..." His voice was in pain, the last stray of strength only to talk, "Master spoke of you."

And while he started to disappear, three last words came from his mouth.

"The Destined...one..."

Peace came back in the clearing. 

You looked at where the wolf had disappeared, asking yourself how much his master knew about you two, about what happened there, and..the hand of the monkey slapped your head.

"Don't run off like that again!"

"Ouch! It wasn't my fault!"

"Yeah! Some strange magic led you here?!"

"..."

"...Seriously?"

You sighed; of course it was crazy, but it was true! Something called you here to do...something!

"I'm sorry...it just...something is strange... I don't know what's happening in me."

The monkey looked at your face. You were so concentrated, your hand caressing the carving of the metal face of the giant object. He wasn't used to bell like this; his own hand caressed the wooden trunk made to play the instrument.

"...Monkey?" He looked at you and said, "We should play it."

"No way! They'll spot us!"

"We're already on everyone's agenda! Please! I... I need it." You please.

He sighed, ready to regret every moment of this. He needed just a swing of the trunk when the sound of the bell started to resonate on the entire aura—on the mountain itself.

Then something else happened. Everything got dark; it was a forest, like the one you and your companion were planting—a child—he was alone. Many people were dying there; something had to hunt them down!

No! You must run! The bear! The bear is... giving him... jewels?

The sun rises, the monastery...

When you woke up from the trance, the monkey had to catch you before falling from the scaffold of the bell.

"Y/n! What's happening?! Are you okay?!"

You just moved your head, confused, scared...was that a vision? It was an old memory? The stagnant water now was moving; a rotting smell came to you.

"You just had to make some noise, did you?!" The voice of the Keeper came back again. He seemed stressed; the sound had scared some birds too. "Now everyone knows you're here! When a chime so grand echoes in the forest, Yaoguais will surely be alarmed!"

He was right; the monkey was able to sense the hair change now. The road was getting just more difficult...

"I'm sorry. I asked him to do it."

"Child, why asking for such a thing?!"

"....I....i'm sorry..."

The monkey couldn't stay angry with such a hurt expression in front of him...but why do you need it? And what did you see? Holding you in his arms, he started to head back to the road.

@sun-jglim @crimsonflameproxy @everlastingmoonlightsworld

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[yes-i-write-fanfiction]

Some opinions down below on why I think these specific characters would be funny to see in this scenario;

-Nightbeat is a detective. Gotham is full of crime. See where I'm getting at? Also, it would be funny if he just casually figured out the batfams secret identities, went "neat" and then just moved on to the next mystery.

-Rodimus would 100% try to become a vigilante. Creates a heroic looking holoform (that looks way to flashy for anything in Gotham) and uses his alt mode as his own batmobile. Batman would find out about his true identity by the end of the week.

-I want to see Megatron accidentally create a criminal empire. Like, he tries so hard to appear like a normal human while trying to find a way home, maybe even opens a cafe or some shit as cover, but he keeps on attracting the attention of criminals. Suddenly he's got hundreds of goons devoted to him, following his every order. Call that warlord rizz.

-Whirl for the same reason as Megatron except he does it on purpose. He wanna do crime! Be a rogue (but one of those cool ones like Poison Ivy and Catwoman)! And punch the Joker. Fuck, he really hates the Joker.

-It would just be funny to see Prowl in this hellhole of a city. Gotham's crime rate is 100%, the cops are corrupt, the law is upheld by vigilantes. Look me in the eyes and tell me that he wouldn't have a fucking seizure. Would kill the Joker for stress relief.

-Look, Starscream would hate the city but he would make it work. He'd make his own place, forge connections, create his own criminal empire. And totally try and seduce Bruce Wayne. You know, for the money and power.

-Grimlock gets found by Robin. Robin sees giant, fire breathing, robot t-rex and goes "hmm, yes, you're mine now" and keeps him a secret from the rest of the batfam.

-Brainstorm would fucking thrive in Gotham. He's a mad scientist, he would have so much fun taking apart the weapons and equipment of Gotham's rogues and vigilantes. Not to mention creating his own. He'd steal the batmobile only to return it two days later, upgraded and decked out with the most insane tech.

-Soundwave has an adoption problem. Batman has an adoption probem. You see my vision? Also, I want him to adopt Robin. And Robin just accepts it because now he gets to hang out with Ravage, Buzzsaw, Laserbeak and Ratbat. Alternatively, just Ravage in Gotham because that would be funny too.

-Rewind thinks Gotham is fucking WILD and he's planning on getting it all on tape so he can show his friends later. He stalks the batfam on their patrols, sneaks into the secret bases of rogues, just to get those good action shots.

-Similar to Prowl, Ultra Magnus would be so fucking vexed by Gotham but while Prowl goes "I FUCKING HATE THIS CITY AND EVERYONE IN IT!", Ultra Magnus has a major case of "I can fix them".

[damn-stark]

Chapter 35 I live. I tell your story

Chapter 35 of Moonlight

A/N- Happy New Year and I really hope you all like it!

Warning- some angst, FLUFF!!! Talks of death. SPOILERS!! FOR FUTURE EVENTS OF HOTD, USING FIRE AND BLOOD, long chapter.

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode/Pages- Past 578

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

*25 YEARS LATER*

Flying in the sky is a lot like swimming in the sea. On warm days when the sun is out the sky is blue just like the body of water. The sky is endless just like the sea is. And on any random day, the sky is cold or chilly because you’re up so high, and when you’re in the water the deeper you dive the colder the waters get.

Unlike when you’re in the water though, there’s no constant need to keep surfacing for air though. True, sometimes the air in the sky gets thin, making it hard to breathe, but you don’t need to hold your breath and keep coming up and down. You’re just on your saddle, drawing in crisp air through your lungs, you’re breaking apart wet clouds, startling flocks of birds, or sometimes even joining their beautiful formation as you and your dragon become one with the endless sky touched by only you.

Isn’t it so fascinating that besides winged creatures you and Rhaena are the only ones who can touch the sky and be a part of the endless horizon?

You think about that often and always take great pride in the fact that you have your dragon now that you live so far from the sea. You might be dramatic but what would be of you if you couldn’t touch the sky whenever you wanted to?

You don’t want to know. You lost so much, but Astraea has been your constant companion since you were an infant. If she hadn’t made it—-well you don’t want to think about it.

What you will think about once you dismount your dragon is breakfast. Everyone must already be around the table—except for Jacaerys maybe. He’s never on time anywhere.

“Ser Cane,” you greet your old but fiercely loyal sworn protector.

“Good morning?” He asks as he watches you walk past him before he follows at your tail like always.

“Great,” you let him know and turn around to watch your dragon back peddle before she walks forward and flaps her giant purple wings to gain momentum before she departs for the skies again—“you were late,” you point out as you drop your gaze on the man and raise your eyebrows teasingly.

“Or you woke up earlier,” he retorts. “My Princess.”

You snicker and then turn around on your heels to face forward. “I knew you’d be here when I landed so I didn’t want to bother you before it was time.”

He sighs in defeat knowing nothing will change. The only advantage to this disadvantage is that at least his heart doesn’t strain with worry because he knows that the people of the North love you, and your dragon is fierce. You can be fierce too but you stopped carrying weapons on your person long ago, so you’re left vulnerable when you’re alone, but you ignore that.

“Cregan!” You call out when you spot him walking toward the dining hall, and he immediately comes to a stop as he hears his name. When he turns, his grey eyes brighten as he sees you picking up the skirt of your gown to run over to him.

When you reach him you throw your arm around his and then lean toward him to press a kiss on his lips, making him smile sweetly.

“How was your flight?” He asks against your lips as he savors your kiss as if he hadn’t tasted them in the morning.

“Refreshing,” you share with a smile before you turn forward and walk to the dining hall side by side now. “You’re late to the table how come? Did something come up?” You ask curiously as you look at him trying to find the answer on his face.

“Yes, some of the lads needed my help. I almost thought I wouldn’t break fast with you and the boys,” he says.

You hum and let your eyes flicker to the corridor as you walk inside the stone building. “You should have taken Jacaerys with you so he could work up the courage to talk to you.”

Cregan turns his head and probes. “About?”

You draw out a deep breath and then turn your head to look him in the eyes. “It’s not for me to say. I just wanted to let you know that he wants to talk.”

He hums and shrugs. “He’s welcome to talk to me anytime he wants. He knows that.”

You keep your eyes on him and sigh, he hears it and he sees your softened eyes full of love start to harden and create a deep crease in between your eyebrows as they furrow in response. “What?” He presses.

“We’ll talk about it later,” you say and leave him wondering what you could mean.

“Okay,” he scoffs softly.

You huff and rub his bicep with your other hand before you slip your hands away from his arm and walk ahead and enter the dining hall first, causing all the chatter to silence as all the attention falls on you and Cregan walking in a bit late.

“For once I am not the late one,” Jacaerys breaks the short-lived silence, making his older brother Maekor scoff in annoyance.

“Grandmother! Grandmother!” Maekor’s twin boys both then shout in sync with excitement, making Maekor’s wife lean down to scold them for shouting over the table in the same way their uncle just did.

“Good Morning everyone,” you announce. “Please as you were. Sorry, we’re late.”

“Good morning,” Cregan greets as he makes his way to his seat.

“Mother,” Rickon, Cregan’s first-born son with Lady Arra Norrey, greets you as you sit down between him and his father.

“Rickon,” you redirect and stroke his chin gently.

“How come it’s alright for you to be late because of your dragon riding, but it’s frowned upon when I’m out all night?” Jacaerys remarks as he reaches over the round wooden table to place food on his plate, making you sit back and slowly look at him with curiosity.

“Can you ever shut up?” Maekor hisses at his brother.

Yet you only add fuel to the matter. “Because it’s not truly the same is it? And you’re out all night without guards doing…well, I do not wish to know what.”

Jacaerys scoffs and proceeds to add. “Father and you go out at night as well—”

“Jacaerys,” Maekor cuts his brother off sharply, making the corner of your lips twitch to a smile that you share with Cregan.

When your husband sees your reaction his lips upturn to a smirk and he passes you a look that says, “that's your son.”.

You snicker in response and he then strokes your chin before he reaches over the round table without needing to be told and passes you what you wanted. After you all serve yourselves breakfast there’s a serenity that blankets the round wooden table, the oldest boy of Maekor’s twins walks over and sits between Cregan and you because he says he wants to tell you a story that never gets told because he gets sidetracked on a matter you start to make sense of before you get lost as you drift your attention to Torrhen.

Your youngest son and child has always been quieter than his other siblings, even before his dragon dreams and Greenseer notions started. Some people might even say that he blends into the room, that’s how quiet he is, he’s never expected to be the loudest one, but he’s never lost to you. He's like the brightest star in the night sky, you always find him like right now, and at this very moment he seems lost in his food as if he’s trying to decipher something within it.

You hope he’ll snap out of his stupor as he feels your eyes on him trying to decipher what thoughts might be forming in his mind, but he seems to be hundreds of years away from where he actually is. Thus you intend to call out to him to snap him out of his stupor and begin a small conversation, but just as you part your lips the dining hall doors open, and the maester walks and makes his way to you.

“Princess,” he whispers by your ear as he pushes a scroll toward you. “This just came to you from the Riverlands. It has an unknown mark on the wax.”

You grab the scroll and turn it, seeing the wax and identifying who the sender is; it’s Alys.

“Thank you, Maester,” you say back with a smile directed at the scroll.

The Maester quickly bows his head at you and Cregan before he scurries off, leaving the room to you and your family once again.

“It's Alys,” you let Cregan know since you know he’s curious about the raven scroll.

“Hm, I wonder what she could want,” he comments and you giddily smile at the scroll one more time before you tuck it away so you can read it later. As of now, you finish your breakfast with more enthusiasm since you're anticipating reading the scroll, which is why you finish quicker than the others.

“I’ll be in the Godswood,” you let Cregan know and kiss his cheek. Before you can lean back and walk off you grab his shoulder and slide your lips to his ear. “Talk to Torrhen, please my love.”

Cregan’s eyes slowly find your son and you follow his line of gaze, noticing that he’s only eaten half of his food and the rest is just sprawled around his plate as he keeps playing with it.

“He’s…having a hard time and I know he doesn’t say it or it may not look it, but he really does need you,” you continue to whisper as you focus back on Cregan. “So talk to him. Take him with you to help you, okay? And be…warm, hm.”

Your husband's grey eyes snap to you and he raises his eyebrow to question your comment.

“He’s your son. Our youngest child, keep that in mind, okay?” You press to give him some idea as to what you could mean without having to explain it right now.

“Alright,” Cregan says back with confusion but he doesn’t press on the matter, he just lets you know he comprehends, letting you leave to go read your letter and respond to Alys in the Godswood like you tend to do when she writes.

“Dear, Princess,

I write to you in regards to Prince Aemond—“

You blink repeatedly in surprise and quickly lean forward to continue reading with a new sense of urgency.

“—some of the King’s men traveled to the God’s Eye in search of your lost ancestral Valyrian sword and stumbled upon it on the lake's surface still attached to your late husband's skull. The men want to recover the blade, thus I thought I’d ask if you would want to recover his bones to do with it as you please or let them disregard it back in the lake. Let me know as soon as you can, the King’s men don’t find value in the bones of the enemy.

-Your friend, Alys Rivers ”

You blink again with surprise and sit back to go over the news the letter contained over and over again, with each time the scab over your heart tearing little by little.

For ten years all you thought of when you thought of Aemond was his death. You remembered the grief and agony that tormented you when you saw him fall into the water and never get out. You remembered how empty you felt without him. You remembered how much you missed him every time you looked into Aerion and Daenys’ eyes. Your memories were never kind until ten years passed.

After a decade of agony, you stopped aching and looked back fondly at your memories. It’s true you’ll never stop missing him or the rest of your family, you’ll be cursed to grieve them until your memory fails you or until you die, but you’re at peace, so to learn that they found his bones, rattles you. You thought you’d never get to lay his body to rest or have your two children that you share with him see him one last time…

Thus now that you can give him a proper funeral you won’t let it go to waste or have his bones return to the lake. You’ll give him a proper Valyrian funeral and have Aerion and Daenys attend. You know the Riverlands still remembers him as a terror of the trident and the rest of the realm remembers him as a kinslayer, but you don’t need them to stand next to you as you burn his bones, all you need is the children you had with him. Fuck everyone else and what they might think when they hear what you do.

As for what Cregan might think…

——

*LATER THAT NIGHT*

After a rather long day, after thinking about Aemond since you read that letter, and after putting your conversations with your husband aside, Cregan and you prove your son Jacaerys right and find yourselves in a discreet hot spring where you know no one will disturb you. And you know that because you only stumbled upon the hot spring when you were a ward sneaking off in the middle of the night with your lover.

“Did you talk to Torrhen?” You finally get to ask after only since you didn’t want to risk being overheard by one of your sons or anyone else eavesdropping.

“Uh,” Cregan hesitates to answer as he undresses.

You look back at the sound of his response and raise your eyebrow even though he has back-turned, letting you see his pale ass as he takes his pants off. “Cregan,” you press.

Said man turns at the sound of his name coming from your lips and lets his pants fall before he proceeds to shake them off, and then walk over to you.

“Need help?” He asks smugly.

You swat his hand away and back away as you untie your gown and let it fall around your ankles, leaving yourself in a lighter gown.

“I told you to talk to him and Jacaerys,” you press impatiently.

Cregan pulls his leather vest off and then takes off his shirts, leaving himself completely nude to jump in the hot water while also ignoring you.

“Cregan Stark,” you hiss and finish undressing before you face him from dry land with your arms crossed over your chest.

“Can you get in the water,” he counters and waves you over. “I can’t think properly when you’re like that.”

You roll your eyes and join him in the water before you look at him with irritation all over again. “Explain why you did not talk to Torrhen or Jacaerys.”

Cregan meets your gaze and his eyes wander down to your breasts so you cross your arms again and press him. “You did not have to talk to the both of them. Just one for now. Why didn’t you?”

Cregan’s grey eyes slowly scale back up to meet your gaze and he sighs deeply before he finally shares what he’s been holding back. “I…tried. I did, but I could find a way to offer him what you want me to give him. And he brushed the matter aside, I did not want to pry.”

You take long blinks as you let his words sink and when you remember that he did not have the same attention from his parents growing up, you let out a deep sigh and approach him to gently grab his arms.

The thing is that his parents were good to him, but his mother died when he was fairly young, and his father wasn’t as open and warm with him as your mother and your father were to you and your brothers. Cregan is a man and he was the eldest, he needed to be tough to face every challenge head-on, so he wasn’t talked to with sweet words laced with honey like the way your mother talked to you and your brothers. He wasn’t told to let his feelings out, they needed to be kept in, whereas your brothers had your mother's shoulders to cry on.

It’s because of that upbringing that it’s second nature for you to be present and warm in your children’s lives. It’s hard for Cregan to be so with his sons, but with your daughters it’s a different story, he was terrifyingly overprotective when your daughters still lived with you. Now they’re too far from him to be menacing to any dangers that could put them in harm's way. And! You don’t want him to be the same way with your sons, you just need him to be someone they can open up to. They need him.

“I’m not telling you to do the impossible, just be…warmer,” you explain your thought process. “Press Torrhen to open up. He really needs you, my love.”

Cregan slowly lowers his head and his eyebrows knit together as he grows conflicted. “I don’t know how to help him,” he confesses quietly and with shame laced in his voice.

“I…” you trail off and hesitate. “I admit it’s not easy. We don’t see what he can, but,” you pause and raise your hands to grab his jaw and tilt his face up so you can look him in the eyes. “Tell him you’re there for him. Be someone he can rely on, instead of someone to avoid. He thinks that you think of him as mad. That you wouldn’t understand and that he’s a burden.”

Cregan shakes his head and his eyes begin to brim with tears. “No,” his voice quivers. “Never. I know there are things in this world that cannot be explained. I mean you fly a dragon and walk through fire, my ancestors were wargs. Some of us live to fight the dead beyond the wall, he’s not mad. I just…haven’t tried I suppose. I’ve relied on you too much to be their support when…it should’ve been the both of us.”

You stroke his cheeks and nod gently. “You understand.”

Cregan raises his hands to cup yours and keep them on his cheeks as he whispers. “I love that you’re so caring to our children. I admire that about you, did you know?”

You giggle as your heart swoons even though this is all something you already heard. “I like to be reminded from time to time,” you tease him and lean in to slowly take him in for a passionate kiss, making him let one of your hands go to slither it to the back of your neck and keep you secured against him as he just deepens it and lets his tongue dance with yours.

When you wrap your arms around his neck he lets his other hand slide down to cup one of your ass cheeks and knead it as he only lets you take in small breaths before he continues to devour you completely in sync with your movements.

One would say he’s gone months or years deprived of your lips, but this morning you woke up early to fuck before you started your day. He’s just as needy as you are, so when you finally pull apart it’s after you’re both heaving from a quickie in the hot spring.

“What did your witch friend say?” Cregan finally asks, making you laugh and kiss his forearm as he has it wrapped around your neck while he keeps his chest pressed against your back.

“Alys,” you correct him with a giggle before you draw out a deep breath and go serious. “She let me know about the King's men diving in the God’s eye to recover my family’s Valyrian sword, ‘Dark Sister’, from Aemond’s skull, and she asked if I want her to have the men recover his body for me or let it sink back in.”

You feel a breath unfurl over the back of your neck before he shares what he’s thinking. “What did you respond with?”

“Yes,” you let him know without shame because it’s not like Aemond’s corpse can do anything to harm him or you—“I want to give him a proper funeral. For me and Aerion and Daenys. I sent them and Daenerys a raven to go to Harrenhal so they can be a part of it and so I can see them.”

Cregan hums and you turn around to face him whilst you remain wrapped in his arms, only now his hands are wrapped around your waist and you have your hands pressed against his chest.

“I sent a raven to Alysanne,” you say in reference to your (second) daughter and second born child with Cregan, who was named after Good Queen Alysanne because she’s someone you admire and because of her good relations to the North—“I told her to go to Harrenhal too, so maybe you and the boys can come? I’m sure Rickon can handle being Lord for a while.”

“He’s told you, hasn’t he? He wants to do more?” Cregan asks and you can’t help but smirk, giving away your answer.

“Perhaps, so come with me,” you plead. “Let's see our children. And our Alyssane is with child, it gives you the opportunity to see her.”

The corner of his lips pulls to a smile and he lifts his hand to grab your cheek. “If that’s what you want.”

You nod right away and look at him with a pleading look to sway him to what you want.

“We could also visit my brothers at the Red Keep while we’re out there already, and…maybe we or I can ask Alys to help Torrhen,” you share that last bit quieter as you sound desperate for anything to make Torrhen feel better about his abilities.

“If he wants to go that is,” Cregan interjects and you drop your head on his shoulder.

“If I ask him he will,” you tell him confidently before you go back to being worried. “I just hope Alys can offer him some peace of mind.”

“I’m sure she can. She’s already offered, hasn't she?”

You nod softly and he starts to caress the back of your head as he leans down to press his lips against the top of it. “See? Then there’s nothing to worry about. She’ll help him with what she can.”

You nod as you take his comfort and linger in the silence for a short while before you pull your head back to look at him giddily. “I was thinking that on our way back from Kings Landing, I could stay with Alysanne until she gives birth. I’ve been at Daenys and Daenerys' side when they had their babes, I want to do the same with Alysanne.”

He huffs and presses a kiss on your forehead. “I’m certain she’ll appreciate it.”

“That’s if she doesn’t want her father instead,” you tease the fact that your daughter favors Cregan more than she favors you.

“I’m certain she’ll want her mother there at her bedside when the time comes,” he offers reassurance. “I’ll go after and we can return home together.”

“On dragonback?” You probe as you mindlessly trace circles on his chest. “It will be quicker.”

He sighs and lolls his head down but he can’t refuse you, so he gives in. “On dragonback,” he assures you, making you giddy before you go on spewing about your failed attempt at knitting Alysanne a blanket for her babe before you both talk and enjoy the silence and your alone time together.

When the kids started getting older and you added more to your family way back then, Cregan and you would sneak off to steal time for yourselves. After all, having four children to start off with right way and then increasing that number to four, to five, to six, seven, and then eight doesn’t leave much privacy, so you had to rely on sneaking off like when you were young. Now as the kids are old and the girls have left to start their own families Cregan and you simply enjoy spending time away from the castle from time to time. Eventually, before dawn, to get some sleep in, you would return home. Just like now.

——

*SOMETIME LATER. THE RIVERLANDS*

“I have forgotten how ugly the Riverlands are,” you hear Jacaerys comment under his breath. “I do not get why people live here.”

“You’ve only been here once,” Torrhen corrects his older brother with some impatience after a long ride of dealing with him in a small carriage that only persisted of Cregan, you, him, and Jacaerys; Maekor and his family took a different carriage from the harbor, and Ser Cane is leading the way on horseback with a few other guards.

“Once was enough to dictate that I don’t like it. As to how Alysanne lives here is beyond me,” he says snobbishly.

“It was her duty to her husband. She, unlike others, understands the responsibility of duty,” Torrhen retorts sassily, causing you to lift your eyes off your book to watch the pair of brothers.

“Hm,” Jacaerys huffs as he flashes his little brother a feigned smile, “you sound like Maekor and Rickon.”

The corner of Torrhen’s lips twitch to a smirk and he counters back quickly. “They are our brothers.”

Jacaerys feigned smile falls flat and he looks back at his brother with a scowl. “Why don’t you doze off—”

“Jacaerys,” you warn him and finally lower your book to give them all your attention.

Said man drops his scowl and sighs deeply before he looks out the window and adds another comment. “I don’t think choosing to marry Ellis falls in the line of duty. Duty would be if she had to marry him, but she chose to.”

“She still has to move to Raventree Hall for her husband. She uprooted her life to come live in the Riverlands. That’s duty.”

Jacaerys eyes fall on you and he simply shakes his head. “It doesn’t bear heavy weight though, does it?”

You sigh and hold his gaze with pity as you know where he’s coming from. You just don’t add anything to the matter, choosing silence and acknowledgment instead.

“Mother,” Torrhen calls out and steals your attention. “You mentioned once that you thought of moving over here, how come?”

You put the book aside and glance at Cregan with a teasing smirk before you look back at your sons and share what you told daughters before. “Before your father and I married, when I was Regent, Lord Kermit Tully fancied me.”

“And you him,” Cregan inputs with annoyance so you nudge his arm and quip.

“No, I did not!” You chuckle. “Sure he was handsome, but I did not fancy the man. He was just someone I considered marrying to do my duty to my family.”

“But?” Jacaerys probes, letting his curiosity get the best of him.

You look at Cregan and offer a much warmer smile. “Your father and I worked out our problems and he asked me to marry him first, so I did.”

Cregan flashes you a smile before he wraps his arm around you and pulls you to him. “I would have challenged Lord Kermit for your hand, do you know that?”

“Would that have been after you had killed my grandfather or before?” You snap him as you pull your head back to shoot a pointed look.

“You wouldn’t have married me if I had?” He teases as he leans toward your lips.

You shake your head, making him smirk and quip.

“Then I would have stolen you.”

You giggle. “Oh would you have, oh, so honorable Stark?”

Cregan smiles wider and he nods as a response before he whispers. “If you had said no then, then that’s when I would have let you go.”

You hum and look at him with amusement and fondness. “It's a good thing you did not commit to killing my grandfather then,” you add, making your sons share a disgusted look that Cregan and you miss as you’re too busy gazing into each other's eyes.

“Well it’s a good thing I wasn’t born a Tully,” Jacaerys cuts in, making Cregan and you slowly peel your eyes away from each other to look at your son.

“They’re honorable people, Jacaerys,” Cregan defends them. “They’re good fighters that risked their lives for your grandmother Rhaenyra and your mother. You should not say things like that.”

Jacaerys lets his eyes linger on his father before he drifts his eyes away and turns his body to be able to look out the window some more. When Cregan is assured that his son won’t move he looks at you, making you look at him to take note of the confused look he gives in response to Jacaerys reaction.

You can’t offer him much but grabbing his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze to reassure him because you know it’ll pass quickly, he just needs to leave it be.

After that as a silence sets within the carriage, you notice the carriage slowly rolls to a stop and as you look out the window the first thing you catch a glimpse of is your firstborn, your Aerion waiting for your arrival.

You then see the grey eyes of Daenerys and behind her, you catch Alysanne with her husband Lord Ellis Blackwood, and your entire being lights up, but your attention is completely stolen by Aerion. So much so that before the carriage can come to a stop, you get up from your seat. Once the wheels stop moving against the ground you don’t wait for the doors to open, you burst out of the carriage with your eyes darting to your son.

“Aerion,” you greet excitedly before you pick up the skirt of your gown and run over to greet him with an embrace. “Aerion,” you whisper once you have him in your arms.

“Mother,” he greets in his deep gravelly voice that is like sweet music in your ears every time you hear it.

After lingering in each other's embrace you pull back and cup his cheeks. “Look at you,” muse and study his towering figure which appears to be more buff than the last time you saw him. “You’ve put on more muscle.” You point out.

He chuckles breathlessly and drops his head causing your hands to fall back to your side.

“How did the waters treat you?” He asks and lifts his head to look at you with his father's blue eyes that hit you with a wave of longing for a man who's been dead a long time.

“They were on our side, thankfully,” you assure him and caress his arms as if trying to grasp the fact that he's flesh and bones. “How was your ride here?” You redirect, causing a sparkle to shine in his eyes as he flashes you a beaming smile.

“Safe and good. Thank the gods.”

You smile softly and muse. “Yes thank the gods.”

You linger in his presence as if you hadn’t seen him a few months back for his name day and just take in the sight of him. Out of all your children who left, his departure hurt the most. Maybe it was because he was just seven years old when he went to ward with your grandfather Corlys, or maybe it was because when he was a boy he looked so much like his father, and having that beautiful reminder leave you was like losing Aemond all over again. And it was not just a temporary loss, you lost that reminder forever when Aerion stopped looking less and less like Aemond as he grew older. Now he only has Aemond’s eyes as a sole similarity, but besides that, Aemond is lost in Aerion forever.

You would argue that Daenys bears a heavy resemblance to Aemond, but the truth is she grew out of her father's looks rather quickly. She’s slim and tall just like him, and her attitude and the way she carries herself is just like him, but she hates and you mean hates when you compare her to Aemond. She takes offense to it so you stopped looking for her father within his only daughter to please her. Besides, it was easier to stop comparing the two because Daenys’ blue eyes changed when she was a babe to the same shade of brown as Alicent’s. Which must be some cruel joke the gods chose to play on you because how can you hate the woman who bore those brown eyes first but love the girl who bears them now?

In any case, you move away from Aerion and immediately take in his wife and your daughter Daenerys.

“Hello, my lovely girl,” you greet her warmly and embrace her tightly.

“I almost thought I didn't exist in the presence of my husband,” she sasses you, causing you to pull back and shake your head in response.

“Stop that,” you scold her lightheartedly and then take her face like you took Aerion’s and just admire her pretty face.

“I missed you,” she lets you know kindly, making her grey eyes soften.

“I missed you too.” You redirect without hesitation and stroke her face.

Daenerys smiles with dimples appearing on her cheeks and then lifts her eyes to the sky. “Where is she?” She asks.

You follow your daughter's line of gaze and before you can search the skies intently Astraea dives out of the cloud bank and lets out a rather greeting roar that makes all your children grin from ear to ear.

“There,” you point to your dragon flying by to most likely circle around to land close by. “Where are your kids?”

Daenerys returns her attention to you and drags out a deep breath. “Home. It’s a short trip away from home. We did not want to make it a big deal.”

You hum with a hint of sadness, but you don’t let it linger to avoid making her feel bad, instead, you think of a solution. “Well, I’ll have to pay you a visit with Astraea then.”

Daenerys smiles cheekily. “Sounds like a good idea. The kids will love it.”

You offer her a sweet smile and just as you’re going to move down the line to greet Alysanne, shouts break through the air and echo, “Aerion!” As all your sons cry out for their older brother with so much excitement before they run over and tackle him to trap him in a group embrace that he gladly welcomes as he matches their excitement.

“Dany,” you hear Cregan say before you hear him approaching his daughter who isn’t publicly acknowledged as his daughter, but is. And she, along with all your children knows that. It’s not a secret Cregan and you kept, and it’s not one that can be uncovered due to her white-silver hair and the fact that she was born at the same as Daenys, so no one is the wiser. Thankfully.

“Mother!” Alysanne calls out dramatically, making you turn to look at her and cover your mouth out of pure admiration as you take note of her little belly.

“<My little Siren,>” you greet giddily in a sing-song voice in Valyrian before you skip and jog over to catch her in an embrace as she runs over to meet you halfway.

“<Mother>,” she redirects with a hint of relief. “<How I’ve missed you.>”

You rub her back and nod gently. “I’ve missed you too. How are you feeling?” You ask right away and pull back to caress her belly. “Nauseous? Tired?”

Alysanne, who loves to be pampered and given attention to looks at you with a sweet and helpless look. “Tired. I’m always tired, but I feel much better now that you and father are here.”

You stroke her cheek and then stroke her chin. “I’m here for you now, okay?”

She sighs with more relief and nods in comprehension before her eyes dart to her father approaching her as the boys are still hogging Aerion’s attention, and she immediately looks at Cregan with a pout and her eyes brimming with tears, captivating all his attention just like a siren captures their prey

“My darling,” he coos and she coos back.

“Father.”

You roll your eyes and then finally give attention to Alysanne’s husband. “Ellis.”

“Princess,” he greets you with a bow just like his father Lord Benjicot Blackwood always did, however, Ellis’ smile is much more charming than his fathers ever was.

“How are you, my boy?” You ask him with genuine curiosity as you take him in for a short embrace.

“Honestly?” He says as you both pull away—“I’m nervous. My father says that I shouldn’t be, but I am. Alysanne is…” he sighs with concern. “Very important to me. I treasure her, and I hear what happens to women. I don’t want that fate for her.”

You swallow back nervously and remain positive yourself. “It happens, but it won’t happen to her. Just try to remain strong, and level-headed, and remember to breathe. She’ll be okay, and so will your babe. In any case, I’ll be there when she gives birth.”

Ellis lets out a relieved breath and nods in comprehension. “Good. Thank you.”

You offer him one last smile before you glance over at the others and see that Aerion now has Ser Cane captive while Cregan is talking to both Daenerys and Alysanne, letting you let out a small and content breath before you let your eyes wander to the distance to find none other than the women who summoned you here, Alys. She’s keeping to herself in the distance, letting you have your time with your family, but also making sure that you know she’s here too.

Once you make eye contact she turns away and walks away all mysteriously except there’s no mystery as to where she’s going. To avoid all the attention, she disappears into the Godswood, so you let Cregan know where you’re going and then approach Torrhen.

“Darling, meet me at the Godswood when you’re done here, okay?” You let him know as he’s still getting carried away with his brothers. “Have Ser Cane show you the way.”

Torrhen's face doesn't drop the smile he carries, he just agrees with a quick nod. “Of course mother.”

You give his arm a gentle squeeze before you watch Astraea land nearby, drawing the attention of Daenerys and Alysanne and whisking them toward her. And even though she won’t let the girls ride her, she still welcomes the attention they give her, and if the occasion arose she would protect them too just like she protects you. Therefore you’re able to leave her with your family without a second thought to walk to the Godswood to join your good friend Alys underneath the Weirwood tree.

“Hello…old friend,” you greet her as you approach her figure facing the old Heart Tree.

“Princess,” she returns in a kind voice before she turns around and shows off her face untouched by aging. “It’s a pleasure seeing you again.”

You smile brightly and when you reach her you grab her hands and caress her knuckles. “You must tell me what you do to not age. Maybe I want to live forever too.”

Alys laughs softly and with her thumb, strokes your cheek. “You age gracefully, my friend. Besides, my time will come when my flesh and bones will return to the ground and bring new life.”

You snicker teasingly at her choice of words and she catches it right away and scoffs before she moves back and points her chin to the exit. “You’re missing one. Where’s Daenys?”

You draw out a solemn breath and offer her an answer. “She couldn’t come. She said her daughter Naerys just recovered from a cold. She didn’t want to risk exhausting her so I am going to her after Harrenhal.”

Alys hums and then draws out a deep breath as her looks give a flicker of pity. “I had your husband's bones wrapped. All that’s left is you putting them on a pyre.”

You swallow thickly and nod stiffly in comprehension before you look down at the rings around your fingers. “I’ll do it after dinner. When the sun sets. I don’t want to leave him waiting longer.”

Alys nods once and as you look up at her face you see her eyes once again drift past your shoulders. You follow her line of gaze by peering over your shoulder and notice Torrhen approaching hesitantly.

“Mother?” He calls out quietly and you flash him a smile before you turn swiftly and meet him halfway to walk him toward Alys.

“Alys you remember Torrhen, don’t you?” You ask with hints of excitement as you show off your son to your friend—“Torrhen this is Alys Rivers. My friend. You met her once when you were fairly young so I don’t think you remember her, but this is her.”

There's a flicker of recognition that flashes in his grey eyes as he takes in the woman who has not aged a day since the time she went to visit Winterfell.

“Hello, it’s nice to see you again,” he greets her kindly, making her close the gap between them by grabbing his face and looking deep into his eyes with a narrowed gaze filled with curiosity.

“Gods,” she mutters. “You look every bit like your father. Shame.”

“Alys,” you exclaim with a wobbly smile threatening to spread on your lips.

Said woman lets Torrhen go and steps away, letting your son pass you a concerned look that you try to assure by caressing his arm.

“Do you have your mother's talent?” She asks your son and his eyes dart to you before they find her again and he shakes his head.

“No.”

Alys sighs with disappointment before she turns to you and asks for your permission to take him to help him, and you of course give it to her with a single nod out of desperation.

“Torrhen,” you say and bring his attention back to you whilst Alys walks closer to the weeping face carved on the tree. “I want you to go with Alys right now and let her help you.”

Your son's dark eyebrows slowly knot together and he probes. “What? Why?”

You exhale deeply and grab his hand to offer him your explanation. “I mentioned that she can do magic and she also has visions. Do you remember?”

He nods and you sigh and continue softer.

“Well, she might be able to help you understand what you can do in ways I never could. So I need you to be honest with her, okay? Tell her everything you dream and see, hm?”

He blinks slowly and interjects with a hint of disbelief. “You told her about my visions and dreams?”

You nod and his jaw hardens as his lips form to a small and displeased pout.

“I’ve seen you, Torrhen. It all takes so much from you, especially lately. I just want to offer you a solution, okay, so please for me,” you press and touch your chest. “Let her help you. She won’t take them away but maybe she can offer some relief to all the chaos, hm?”

Torrhen clenches his jaw harder but a huff of air runs out of his nose before he faces you again and hesitantly nods.

“Good,” you whisper and stroke his cheek before you step away from him and turn your head to Alys to offer her a small smile before leaving the Godswood.

After that before dinner and during dinner, you bask in the bliss that you feel over having almost all your kids under one roof again. Rickon and Daenys are missing but you don’t let who you’re missing stop the joy bursting in your heart. You know what awaits you later, and all the feelings that will come with it so for now, before you’re riddled with grief, you find joy in the sound of all your children’s laughs.

You admire the way Cregan interacts with Maekor’s twin sons, while also helping him create those splendid memories in your grandson's minds. You coddle Alysanne as she demands your affection in what she calls her time of need, but in doing so you also feel pride and happiness as you see how much Ellis loves and cares for Alysanne. He might look intimidating as he towers over with his tall and slim figure, and with his dark hair and the mysterious way he looks at the world, but he’s really sweet, funny, and affectionate. He surely makes Alysanne feel better as she deals with a wave of different emotions during her pregnancy, and that makes you glad; it reminds you of Cregan and you when you were with child multiple times throughout your life, letting you know that you couldn’t have asked for better for your daughter because Cregan has always been so good.

Moreover, you continue to get drunk in the buzzing emotions, in the way Daenerys and Aerion look out for each other as their brothers get carried away with the wine and pull them into their madness. You watch the way Maekor’s wife fails at reining him in as he’s too driven by his high from being with his brothers. You even join Jacaerys in singing a few sailor shanties and upbeat songs.

There’s only short moments of silence here and there but life travels through the haunting halls of Harrenhal. Even when you drift away and at last bring yourself to what’s left of Aemond Targaryen; your uncle, best friend, and great, epic love of your life.

“<I'm sorry it took so long,>” you talk to the perfectly wrapped bones laid down on the stone table. “<I thought they’d never find you, but here you are. I’m sorry.>”

You get closer and closer, with each step feeling a heavy weight of grief and sorrow that you haven’t felt in a long time fall over your chest and push you down and further down while faded memories once so vivid swirl through your mind.

“<Your face is a blur,” you admit, “I’m older now, but I have not forgotten you, I swear. And I still miss you.>”

You reach the side of the table he was left on and feel your breath shudder and a grip tighten around your throat.

“<You must have been lonely, Aemond. Oh…Aemond. Why didn’t you listen to me?>” You ask a pile of hollow bones with tears crawling to your eyes and making your voice sound shaky. “<Why did you have to be so driven by your ego? We…” you pause and draw in a shaky breath. “The truth is I’m happy with the life I have. I built it. Me. Yes, there are bad moments, but I made this life I’m living now. I built my family with my husband. I have loved like my mother. I have taught my children to love the same way my brothers and I loved each other…the same way my mother taught us how to love, so I can’t say I wish my life was different, but…but…>” You sniffle and press your hands on the surface of the table.

“<…There are times when I wonder what our life would have looked like. Would it have been as beautiful?>” You ask the emptiness of the room where his ghost doesn’t even linger. It’s just the presence of his remains, you, and the dancing flames giving the chambers light.

“<I like to think so because I knew you. You had a good heart and you just wanted to be loved…>” you scoff softly and finally lift your hand off your side to very slowly and carefully lay your hand on his head, feeling a wave of sorrow hit your heart and causing streams of tears to break out of your eyes.

“<I wish my love could have been enough for you Aemond,” you whisper and lower your lips to his head. “But as selfish as you were about my love and you loving me, it didn’t satisfy you. That’s why you’re gone and I’m sorry for it. I’m sorry for everything. Even though I was unfaithful, even though I was mad you killed my brother and my grandmother, even though…so many other things I still loved you with all my heart. I still do. I love you as if you were still alive. I will love you forever.>” You finish and breathe out before you press a gentle kiss on his forehead and keep your lips pressed against the cold surface.

The door proceeds to creak as it opens, causing you to stand up to your given height and steal a peek over your shoulder. When you catch Aerion walking in you wipe the tears off your face and let out another breath before interjecting.“Are you ready?”

Aerion sighs deeply. “Mother.”

“Do you want time with him?” You ask as you think that’s why he called out to you, but when you turn around to face him he doesn’t look sorrowful, he looks like he’s dreading having to say something.

“What is it?” You ask curiously

Aerion draws out another heavy breath and takes a step forward before he swallows nervously and shares what he’s keeping inside. “I will not take part in the funeral.”

You scoff and confusion flickers on your face. “What do you mean?” You mutter. “He was your father Aerion.”

Said man shakes his head stiffly. “No. He was not. Cregan was my father, Ser Cane and Corlys were my father, Aemond Targaryen never was. He might be the reason I am here, but he is no father of mine,” he finishes with a hint of disgust and your face falls with utter disbelief.

“That’s why Daenys is not here either,” he adds and drops his head to talk to the ground. “She wanted no part in it either. We are sorry for you, mother, but we do not care for him.”

“Aerion,” you warn with no actual threat in your voice.

“Do you really expect me to grieve for a man who took part in the reason our family was killed? A man who was at fault for why my grandmother is not here?”

“He had no fault in that,” you cut in for Aemond’s defense. “You know that. He might have been against my mother, but I was too at some point.”

“But you never killed your brothers—”

“He did not kill his brothers,” you cut him off but he quickly snaps back.

“That’s not the point!” He heaves and you look at him bewildered as he meets your gaze with the same eyes of the man he despises—“He was a bad man, who left. Every chance he had to stay with us he used to turn around and leave. I will not grieve for someone like that. His blood may run through my veins but I will never call him father. I will never remember him as such, and I will never claim him as such either. I am sorry mother.”

Aerion steps toward you and cups your shoulder to lean in and press a kiss on your cheek before he abandons the room and leaves you alone, letting you let out a small sob.

What could you say to make him feel otherwise? His mind is made about his father and he has a right to feel what he wants because he’s a grown man. You can’t beg him to look at things differently, you’ll probably talk to him but never beg him.

If only he could remember how much his father really loved him, but alas…he can’t.

“I guess it is just me and you, huh?” You direct to Aemond’s remains as you turn and face him again. “It’s okay. You always preferred it that way anyway.”

You let out a deep, shaky breath and then collect his remains to walk out to the pyre that was built for you and place his remains on top.

When the remains are where you want them to be you step away and that’s when it sets that Aerion kept his word; he doesn’t come. No one does and you don’t expect anyone to join you because no one knew him but you, and he would have hated it if Cregan were in attendance so it’s just you, Ser Cane, and Astraea standing around the pyre, but you’re the only one grieving him.

Alas, in the silence of the night of Aemond’s lonely funeral, as you hesitate setting his remains ablaze, two pairs of footsteps echo as they approach, so with the little energy you have you look back and gasp softly when you see Daenerys and Alysanne are joining you.

“Maekor and the others are drunk and we didn’t want them to ruin it, so we came alone,” Daenerys shares before you can ask what she’s doing out here. “We didn’t want you to be alone. And father didn’t want you to be alone either.”

You sniffle as your heart swoons and you mewl as your emotions get the best of you. “Thank you, my girls.”

Alysanne wraps her arm around your shoulders and Daenerys holds your hand, giving you the strength you need to at last say the word to send Aemond off at long last.

“Dracarys.”

.

.

.

.

.

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans @oh-you-mean-me @wallacewillow0773638 @icefrye19 @thescottpack @fiction-fanfic-reader @crazymusicgirl104 @r-3dlips @strangersunghoon @just-pure-trash @ethereal-athalia @missyviolet123 @callsignwidow @xunquish-blog @tabathastan @weepingfashionwritingplaid @answer-the-sirens @silverlightsaber @rosey1981 @amortentiaaaa

[inbabylontheywept]

That isn't a ship, it's a cannon with FTL

Aggral Thrawn’s gut was a grotesque thing to behold: Soft and distended, covered with a coarse layering of fur, a fat purple worm of a scar crossing over it’s almost spherical circumference. So vicious was the scar that even gazing upon it brought unwanted imagery of the fat ape-like creature screaming in pain, both arms working as a dam to keep the tidal wave of bloody guts from spilling out of its three-fingered fists

Yet, for all its grotesque horror, he trusted it. That same gut that had almost gotten him killed so many years before had worked hard to save him again and again after. It was what had brought him from mere gangpress, to quartermaster, all the way to the captain of his own pirate vessel.

And right now, it was telling him to call off the attack. The readings he was getting from the craft ahead made no sense. The crew space was too small, the energy readings were off the charts, and there was something almost military about it. Yet, as he looked over the hull, he couldn’t spot a single weapon. Nothing about it made sense.

The crew had enough in the larders to pass on a ship this sturdy. Even as ships on either side of him pulled forward, eager to be the first to raid the craft, he aborted the ram sequence to watch from a distance.

The crew was disappointed. It’d been too long since they’d had a good, solid fight, but they knew better than to second guess Aggral’s gut. It had earned its place as the ship’s oracle by rite of blood, and was to be respected accordingly.

---

There were only four crew aboard the USSN PMAC: Dalton Dial, in charge of weapon systems, Elizabeth Harris, in charge of navigation, and the Pratchett siblings, who worked together to keep the fifth generation fusion reactor that powered the whole abomination within some semblance of working order.

The Pratchett siblings’ love of the reactor (which they had affectionately named “Sun-Son”) was rivaled only by their hatred of the rest of the craft. Elizabeth and Dalton had more mixed feelings on the matter. Elizabeth considered the ship “Perhaps a little ridiculous on paper, but a work of military genius,” while Dalton lauded the idea as “Literally the coming of the Messiah, the only thing I prayed for my whole adulthood, and the answer to that prayer manifest, just for me, to bring me back to the flock.”

Their mixed feelings could be explained away just by describing the craft concept:

The PMAC was not a ship. It was the largest possible gun that could still be attached to an Alcubierre drive, with just enough manpower to steer, aim, and maintain the thing for long term patrols.

The prototype MAC that the life-support, thrusters, and reactor had been constructed around hadn’t even been built with space in mind. It was originally designed as a ground-to-orbit defense weapon. If it wasn’t for the capacitor bank the ship would’ve needed almost a minute between each shot to get enough power, even with the fifth generation reactor. Luckily, it could start out each battle with enough charge to fire off a salvo of four before needing to begin recharging for its next launch.

It had just such a salvo prepared for the pirate ambush that their military grade scanners had picked up minutes earlier.

Dalton was not taking the delay very well.

“With all due respect mam, I’ve had a lock on all three for almost a minute now. I could just fire and claim that I sneezed. The Pratchetts would back me up on this. Right guys?”

Emily Pratchett snorted.

“Why is it that when the weaponsmaster says ‘with all due respect’ he always means ‘fuck you for giving my stupidly giant gun blue balls?”

Thom Pratchett shrugged.

“Maybe he’d say it less if you weren’t so eager to translate it to the navigator for him.”

Elizabeth was slightly amused by the conversation. It was hard to keep things particularly formal while on a crew this small. Still, she was waiting for something. She’d gotten permission from the brass to take a new approach to fighting with the ship.

They’d proven it could win battles. Now, it was time to establish shock and awe. And as it currently stood, dead men told no tales.

Thus, they needed more living ones. And as she watched two pirate ships pull forward, with one hanging back, she knew just who’d live to pass on this particular legend. ---

Aggral watched the ships advance on his HUD, the blips crossing the thousands of kilometers between them and the strange ship in seconds. For a moment he felt regret. Was he making a mistake? Was this going to be what led to some upstart in the crew thinking they could do things better than him?

Then, the world went mad.

The power readings on the strange ship spiked. Hard. He’d thought that the baseline levels were outrageous, but they must’ve had some sort of absurd capacitor bank to expel that much energy that fast. The twin prongs that made up most of the length of the ship gave off some sort of EMP that fried the electronics of the Viscera, his sister ship, cutting off their radio traffic. His crew scrambled to find some way to regain contact when Gods of the Dead, forgive me my sins, and and forget me my debts, the actual weapon went off. The EMP hadn’t even been the attack, it had just been a side effect.

He hadn’t seen a weapon because he’d been looking for one on the hull, some kind of guardian laser, or a missile pod. He hadn’t even conceived that the whole goddamn vehicle could be the weapon. But what kind of weapon would charge up like that? A laser would just fire over a sustained period. What would need a burst like-

He stopped midthought as it hit him: A railgun.

He stopped again as it hit them: The kinetic charge would have to have been moving at almost 0.8c for it to just ignore the evasive maneuvers like that. The ferroslug itself wasn’t detected by any of their defense measures aboard, but the thermal readings of the Viscera made every infared sensor aboard scream in horror. Contact with whatever slug had hit it must’ve reduced the whole thing to plasma. It was almost inconceivable.

He was already screaming out the full retreat call when the ship fired twice in rapid succession at the Rictus, which was still recovering from what had just happened to its partner. The first shot was dead through the center. The second hit some target a few dozen meters off to the side.

A direct hit on an escape pod. Apparently, the captain had tried to save himself. Even in the mortal terror that he felt at that moment, Aggral could take a grim satisfaction at that second shot. To leave all the men that followed you to their deaths was a cowardice that he could not bear to consider. He would rather die.

And now, he was going to. Jump was fifteen seconds away, and the console was telling him that the ship was pinged. They knew where he was, they had him in their crosshairs, and they were going to pull the trigger.

He traced a finger over the purple scar absentmindedly. This was it. He’d been living on borrowed time since that first wound, and now he was to meet his ancestors.

He was ready.

---

Dalton was wincing, even as he maintained his ping on the ship. He knew that Elizabeth was just doing her job, but even by his admittedly bloodthirsty standards, there was something fucked up about keeping a ship in ping like this. It was like forcing someone to look you in the eyes before you slit their throat. Way too personal for his tastes.

Elizabeth was keeping an eye on the craft, making sure that no escape pods were jettisoning. Part of her was hoping that some would, but whatever other faults these pirates had, they were loyal to each other at least. As the ultraviolet scanners gave the telltale flair of redshift, she told Dalton to turn off the ping.

To say he was relieved was an understatement. In the middle of a firefight, he couldn’t question Elizabeth’s orders, but for the first time in a long time, he’d been afraid to pull the trigger. Now he didn’t have to.

He almost slid out of his chair as he asked the question that had been on his mind since the engagement began.

“Mam, what the hell was that?”

Elizabeth smiled warmly at her very surprised crew even as her words came out, cold as ice.

“A message.”

---

Thanks for reading this far! I'm moving my previous works from reddit to here. If you follow me, more will come. If you're impatient, you can skip to the source and read things at https://www.reddit.com/user/InBabylonTheyWept/

[falling-star-cygnus]

...i've gotten four asks about this sorta thing -> which i'm super grateful for!! thank y'all so much for wanting to see more of my writing!!

i've just sort of been putting these specific ones off until i felt i could adequately display it and even now I feel iffy about the characterization, but I really didn't want to seem like i ignoring y'all either :( -> Masterlist

i have some semblance of a plot now, so... i sincerely hope you all enjoy? this might be the push i need to get out of my funk, and i put in the very best effort for all of you!!

"You were a WHAT?"

"Is now really the time to be surprised!?"

The Ethereal- they kinda looked like one the Ballerina Twins actually, if the Ballerina Twins had galactic glitchy orbs for heads and rainbow glowy nervous systems- warbles at them impatiently. Anby's barely keeping them at bay with her sword.

It's practically a toothpick compared to the giant weapon Thanatos was wielding... They raise their shield-

Billy fires.

It doesn't land, of course it doesn't, but the smaller Demara doesn't get bludgeoned either so the android counts it as a win.

Especially when the bullet ricochets off the sign previously behind the larger than necessary Ethereal and back towards him. Billy tilts his head left just in time to miss it, and pivots on his heel when Thanatos shrieks and flails back. Bullseye.

"It's showtime!" he announces, and lines The Girls up somewhere where their jaw would be. Only about six of the bullets- 12 in total, the android was counting- actually hit before they teleport away again.

Billy reloads.

None of them, except the Boss, used the right typing to properly take Thanatos on.. but there was little to be done until they could carve an escape route out.

The Hares' ready their weapons, turning in slow circles as they wait for Thanatos to appear again. Were they gone..? He knew better than to assume they were, of course, but-

"Billy- behind you!" Nekomata points; he whirls around.

And takes a blade to the head.

There's not much to say for this part, aside from pointing out how cliche and underhanded it was to get him from behind like this, but bits and pieces float around to the surface with just enough clarity to be worth mentioning.

The pavement cracking under the android's weight.

Sparks fluttering out of the cleaved out gash.

Thin oil leaking out of his head like a halo.

Isolation.

Billy stands in the inky abyss of his own mind. His memories- his memories of the Hares'- play out before him like a movie: braiding Anby's hair, putting Nicole's into pigtails, napping in the sun with Nekomata on his chest, warmth-

Fighting as a team, Anby helping him up, Nicole calling his name, the restaurant they all went to after successful raids, fighting alone, Being alone in that truck bed, sand clogging up his joints.

Chill.

The memories fade away, leaving the android with the stilted thought of:

Don't- take them.. from me.

Nothing.

Billy Kid wakes up, and points the nearest weapon- a gun, by the feel of it- at their forehead. The hands reaching for him still, too pale to be anybody from the Sons.

Calloused enough to be Caesar's, though, so they must be some form of blade user. Electric, if the Lichtenburg scars on their finger tips have any weight to them.

The android sits up, ignoring the stab of pain behind his right video processer. He could deal with that later, after figuring out where the actual hell he was. And dealing with whoever it was that moved him.

They're small, surprisingly so, but Lucy and Piper were also small so that didn't exactly mean anything of value. Brilliant white hair, amber eyes, and green and black tech wear.

And a backpack packed with enough thrumming energy to kill the Dead-End Butcher.

Definitely a threat.

Billy Kid doesn't lower the gun, even as he's sure the human's fleshy arms were getting tired of being raised. Or maybe they weren't. He knows their type, he's cut from the same cloth himself.

A weapon.

"Billy, d-"

"How do you know my name," he interrupts, praying to a god he didn't believe in that he wouldn't have to shoot someone so small, "and why are you only using part of it."

He was Billy Kid, the feared enforcer of the outer ring. The only people that occasionally just called him Billy were the other Sons of Calydon. Not strangers.

"We work together," his potential captor calmly says, lowering their hands by their sides, "We're friends. Partners in crime."

"The hell we are."

"We are," they insist.

He doesn't buy it. Billy Kid didn't have friends, he was an android. A weapon and tool for whoever his boss was. Big Sis, the drifters, whoever had him before that.

He cared about them all, more than he should considering what he was made for, but he wasn't built to receive that kind of care in return. Pain spikes behind his processer again, and his free hand instinctively moves to grasp at it.

The stranger jolts forward as the gun dips.

Billy Kid shoots on instinct, even as something like worry[?] coils the wires in his lower torso too tight. There's a click, but in the end nothing but dry fire. And relief[?]

Billy Kid curses at the opening he's provided, and braces himself for the inevitable attack. He doesn't know where the other gun was- because there had to be one, Burnice only ever made things in pairs- and..

Why did he assume Burnice made these...?

Small hands, calloused and scarred, gently- why was he being treated gently- bat his hand away from his video processor. The empty gun is sandwiched between them.

More carefully than he deserves for shooting at them, the stranger inspects something on his face, and the android swings his lanky legs over the side of- it looks like a cot[?] to make it easier for them.

"You took a bad hit to the head," they inform his forehead, only pulling away when Billy Kid starts to get twitchy at the proximity, "an Ionized - Thanatos. It most likely messed with your memory bank."

"Sounds convenient," he scoffs, lowering the gun to his side, "Most likely messed with my memory bank?"

"It definitely did, we were friends," the stranger presses, strangely insistent, "What's the last thing you remember?"

They take off their backpack as the android thinks back on it. Whether to prove they weren't a threat or gain his trust to attack later, he wasn't sure.

What he was sure of was the fact that the harder he thought about it the harder his head pounded. Everything dating up to the past year and six months was just- blank. Corrupted files that spat static and made him want to lie down for a while.

More than that, he felt... lonely, for some reason. Like a big chunk had been carved from his sternum and left to burn in front of him.

"Billy?"

"I don't remember you."

And oh. He'd take it right back if it meant that look never crossed their face again.

It's barely there for a second, but it's a look of pure hurt. Hurt that makes something close to guilt roar where his mechanical heart sat. He never wanted this stranger to look at him like that again.

He never wanted anyone to look at him like that, to be honest. Fighting was fun- it was what he was built for- and the thrill was something that almost nothing could replicate- but...

Flashes- memories- of Lucy and Piper flit through his head, images and phantoms of them tucked into his sides on warm days and colder nights. A rough hand carding through his hair.

...being sent.. off?

“I’m-”

The door cuts him off with a bang!

"What's taking so long!? Is he ok?"

"Nicole! Anby told us to wait-"

Long pink hair and calculating green eyes bully their way into the room. Something in his programming wants to stand at attention all of a sudden...

The stranger- the white-haired stranger, because now there were three- moves away from the confused android. It looks like they want to say something but apparently thinks better of it and turns towards Billy Kid.

"I don't think I should be the one to say it," they- the thiren said her name was Anby[?]- announce, with all the enthusiasm of a dry rock. Which seems to be her MO, endearingly enough. Endearingly?

The pink haired- Nicole puts her hands on her hips.

"Say what?" she demands, before turning her critical gaze onto the android, "Are you ok or not, Billy?"

Again, shortening my name... Who are these people?

"All systems are operational," he reports anyway, because despite her brash words she sounds worried, "Except my memory banks, apparently."

Side-eye.

Anby's nose just barely scrunches at his tone.

"What do you mean your memory banks?" Nicole prompts, gaze flicking between the two.

"He doesn't remember us."

The Cunning Hares freeze. Silence rules the small space they've tucked themselves into- which... kinda looks like a garage? A nice garage compared to whatever you'd find in the Outer Ring.

Much too nice to be anywhere close to the Outer Ring.

"Where did you take me?"

Nobody answers for a good while.

Until the thiren lets slip:

"...it's so weird to hear you talk like that.."

She shudders from her fluffy ears tips to the sleek finishes of her tails. Were they prosthetics? Why were they blue at the at the base-?

What was wrong with the way he talked?

And why didn't she answer his question-

"Not- not in a bad way!" the thiren is hasty to tack on, "you just... you don't sound happy anymore.."

...happy? He wasn't built to sound happy. He wasn't even supposed to talk much outside status reports and communications. Although- sure, the android often broke that somewhat unspoken rule when Piper and Lucy needed a bit more help to drift off at night, or when Burnice needed someone to bounce a new design off of, or if Lighter was talking about something that happened while he was out in shops, or-

...you got the idea. Caesar hadn't explicitly banned him from talking with the other Sons, not by a long shot, he just- didn't want to push it.

The silence surrounding the ragtag four stretches into something distinctly uncomfortable.

"That.. aside," Nicole- who he assumes is the Boss- eventually starts, "We.. ahem. We got your wound patched up just fine, but... we ended up needing some help to get you back here."

Billy Kid tilts his head.

It made sense, of course, he was an android made of reinforced metal. And while he didn't doubt the strength of these people- especially Anby- he had an itching feeling that their strength was.... not particularly rooted in the weight-lifting sense.

So who-?

"Well. This isn't exactly the reunion I was hoping for."

....there was no way.

Caesar, the Big Sis of the Sons of Calydon herself, walks through the- admittedly abused looking door. Billy Kid shoots to his feet.

And severely underestimates the refractory period required following the repair of a head wound. He stumbles.

A sturdy arm catches his middle with ease.

"Easy, Kid," Caesar reprimands, hauling him back to his feet, "There's no reason to do that, I'm not your boss anymore."

Her words are oddly quiet, as if the other three in the room weren't supposed to hear. Big Sis had always been good at that. Quietly being reassuring without being coddling.

That achingly hollow feeling returns.

From behind Caesar's large frame, he can see the Hares' lower their hands slowly. Their faces are oddly stormy..

Anby bullies her way between them.

"Quite the team you've found yourself, by the way," Caesar continues as if she hadn't, "I'd ask you to fill me in, but.."

...right. Her pale eyes lock onto his, and-

She gives him a single nod of approval. Something loosens in his wiring.

"You'll be alright, Kid."

"Of course he will." Anby cuts in, squaring her small shoulders, "Even if we have to remake all the memories he lost, Billy will always be a member of the Cunning Hares."

And-

Billy finally believes it.

[dr-spectre]

You mentioned something about Splatoon 4 thoughts earlier today, and I really wanna hear you ramble about that. But I also really wanna listen to you ramble about a Hypno Callie rewrite lmao. So if you haven't already, since there's a good chance I missed it lol, what would a Spectre Hypno Callie rewrite look like?

OH DUDE NOW YOU'RE GETTING ME ALL PUMPED UP TEHEHEHEHE! ITS TIME FOR ME TO RAMBLE!!! Imma go ultra autism on you!!! It's gonna border on fanfiction territory! (Not the creepy or romantic kind...) Don't say that I didn't warn you...

Splatoon 4 Ideas.

Now here's the thing right. I only have a few ideas on a Splatoon 4 so I don't think I can do a giant ramble about it yet. But so far I got the idea of Splatoon 4 taking place in a giant futuristic city near the beach. So you get this cool plaza area near the beach and I got that idea from the AMAZING Project Splatoon 3. Seriously go check that out, it is amazing!!!!!!!

But you can also go into the city and explore some of it. And you can ride a bike to different shops and have your own apartment!!! I know people want apartments for the next game and yeah I agree. We NEED an apartment maker, it's the next logical step from lockers!

Also for weapons... I would LOVE to have a flamethrower weapon but instead of fire it's mist. A crank operated shooter made out of bike gears where you gotta keep spamming the ZR button, kind of like the Octoshower's weapon. A Wii Zapper charger!!! PLEASE NINTENDO! A saw blade Splatana. Maybe a pool noodle Inkbrush? That would be funny. Maybe a Painbrush that has a fan on it? Man... I'm starting to sound like Sheldon HAHAHA!

For the new Idols, it would be a duo instead of a 3 Idol group because oh my god 3 team Splatfests are so unbalanced sometimes. They would have the colors red and cyan. I don't have much on what they would look like, but I imagine one of them is a female Inkling with a cyan color and the other is a male octoling with a red color. It's time we have a proper God damn male Idol that isn't a giant manta ray!!! Now since I cannot draw for shit and I don't have the desire to draw (drawing has made me so angry so multiple times so I stick to writing and rambling) so I'll just show some pics to show you what kind of vibe I'm going for.

(Yes I'm not fucking joking. I've gotten inspiration from Silver the Hedgehog and Spider-Punk...)

I think it would be an interesting dynamic to have a fancy, highly teched out character paired up with a grungy and punk character who's loud and funny. I can imagine their music to be futuristic and techno while including segments of rock. Basically techno rock with romantic elements in it.

I would like some quality of life improvements and just general improvements as well, like being able to customize EVERY part of your look without having to go through that annoying character creation menu in the crater. Faster levelling up for abilities, ability drinks and food actually giving you which ability you want instead of a chance at it. Way more pants and a pants shop. WAY MORE hairstyles, eye colors with an option to select from a color wheel, eyebrows, scar and tattoo options too with a new tattoo vendor. (the tattoos are explained in game to be temporary ones even though they secretly aren't, to make sure parents don't get the wrong idea lmao)

Maybe some gameplay tweaks too? like including very slight momentum when going downhill? It has to be very slight though for balance. I would like to add a dolphin dive like mechanic where if you press the jump button in the air in your swimming form, you'll quickly stomp to the ground, and that speed will be carried over when swimming in ink for a little while. Maybe faster horizontal wall swimming too? Basically make the gameplay a little bit faster is all I'm trying to say, Splatoon doesn't need a giant gameplay overhaul, just small tweaks to make the last game seem worse to play lmao.

And of course, BETTER SERVERS! WE NEED DEDICATED SERVERS! NOW!!!!!!!!!!! EVEN IF ITS JUST A FEW IT'LL BE SOOOOOO HELPFUL! STOP BEING STUPID NINTENDO! GOD!

Um... anyways!

Now, in terms of story.... I would have 3 parts, one is the main campaign while the other two are DLC. The main campaign is focused on the Salmonids. You play as a new agent (Agent X or something, i think that's a cool name) as you explore these islands Super Mario 64 style where you do missions and try and stop the Salmonids from getting out of control as they gone on a rampage from an unknown cause. You have to complete enough missions on an island to go to the next.

Basically, think of Salmon Run maps and areas found in Mario games but they are WAY LARGER and more complex areas to go through with NPCs to talk to. I really want Splatoon 4 to expand on the concepts found in the hub worlds in Alterna and go fully into a 3D Mario sandbox style game.

You also have to team up with Frye, Big Man, Neo Agent 3 and Marie who join up with a new cast of characters who are in charge of guiding you to new islands (haven't thought much about what these characters are) to figure out what's going on. Callie doesn't appear in the story as it's explained in a Sunken Scroll that Callie is helping Octavio figure out what to do with the Fuzzy Octarians that are still trapped in Alterna. And yes Octavio has now fully joined the New Squidbeak Splatoon which Callie is very ecstatic about.

Cuttlefish is fully retired and doesn't appear, and Captain is taking a break from captain duties, leaving Marie to watch over Frye and Big Man as she is their boss anyways. Now, where is Shiver in all this? Well... here me out... she's the villain. And no she doesn't have any sort of bullshit evil headgear on. She's a villain due to being corrupted by greed and wanting more power. She has become addicted to the high she gets from winning and feeling powerful and has teamed up with the Salmonids to gain even more power and cash. She's been fully consumed by power and cash and Frye and Big Man are not on board with her plans as Shiver doesn't wanna give back to the people in Splatsville anymore. So Shiver leaves the group and gathers up the Salmonids and commands them.

However it's revealed that Shiver is doing these things because she had a bad family upbringing in her clan and was always talked down to and treated as weak. So all that trauma and resentment is finally on the surface and Shiver is lashing out at everyone because her pain is so much for her. There could be some themes about found families and healing trauma with the people that you love and stuff like that. Haven't thought too deeply about it. But I would really love to see Deep Cut forgive Shiver and just hug and cry it out. I'll cry alongside them lol.

Now, the second story is focused on the Squid Sisters and takes place before the events of the main campaign. You play as Agent 4 and Callie finds you lying on the floor and tells you that Inkopolis Plaza has been covered in a strange fog and a weird green substance that looks like gooey moss. The buildings have changed and there's all this weird plant life and dust everywhere. Callie escorts you to the tower found in Inkopolis Plaza to figure out where Marie went and that's where you meet Octavio who got shot down in his mech from a laser.

The three go inside and the building looks very similar to the aesthetics of Side Order but with a hospital liminal space edge to it. It looks like a twisted dream hospital environment with a giant lobby in the middle.

This kind of vibe but more open and less hallway like. It should invoke the feeling of going to a hospital as a kid.

However, instead of an elevator to go higher, it's a giant spiraling staircase that grows after each floor Agent 4 completes. Basically the gameplay is the same as the rogue like gameplay found in Side Order but its heavily expanded upon with new enemies, objectives, color chips, etc. However... during the first 12 floors you hear these weird whispers and voices that sound very similar to Marie's voice.... Callie says she's getting major Deja Vu, and then Marie's voice is fully clear and echoes throughout the building, telling Callie in specific to leave her alone and to get out of here. They don't listen and continue forward.

When you reach the 12th floor, you go inside a giant white chamber and you see Marie in a new outfit that's similar to this outfit found in the Splatoon 2 artbook. Basically this but with a cool cloak and squid tentacle patterns on it and a gas mask instead of shades.

She's standing on some kind of green gooey moss and looks angry. Marie attacks Agent 4 with her charger and its a stealth boss where you gotta sneak around and get up to Marie and knock her down from the moss pile. Evil Marie has always been a beloved fan concept in the community, like Hypno Marie has so many cool fan designs out there and i think that could work honestly.

Callie manages to knock the mask off of Marie with a splat bomb but she's still angry. Callie grabs onto Marie and Marie calms down and cries. Agent 4 looks at the gas mask and its just filled with regular oxygen, nothing special about it. No hypnosis gas or anything. Just regular oxygen... Marie says she's sorry and explains that stuff from her past is catching up to her and making her unwell (you can guess on what I'm referring to wink wink.) She was unable to sleep for several days and was being manipulated by someone...

The thing behind Marie's manipulation appears from the ceiling and it's this giant white metallic squid that has transparent glass on some of it's body and arms, which shows this bright green goo flowing inside it. (think of Overlorder but he's a squid). I don't have a lot of information for this guy but this villain was created to cure Fuzzy Octarians, but due to unknown circumstances it went out of control and its coding was changed to "heal" people's pain by covering the planet in a modified and twisted version of Marie's low tide ink which now has evolved to be very similar to plant life. This goo/ink neutralizes certain parts of the brain, leaving the victim completely unfeeling and depressed, unable to feel anything, even physical touch or sensation. The villain manipulated Marie by going inside her head, analyzing her memories and telling her that all she has to is to get rid of "the intruders" and he will "heal her pain."

After the Marie boss fight, you have to travel up to 40 floors instead of 30 and during the downtime you get to learn about the Squid Sisters. Stuff like Callie and Marie before they blew up, who came up with their outfits, more info about their parents and managers, Marie talking about how she has trauma and nightmares from the events of Splatoon 2 and is terrified that one day Callie may leave and never come back again, Callie diving into her time in the Octo Canyon and finally clearing up what happened to her, Octavio showing remorse and sorrow for the actions he has done over the past 100 years. Basically Side Order but with the Squid Sisters, Octavio and Agent 4. I know it's a lot like Side Order but Side Order is so damn good so why not do it again but improve upon the gameplay you know?

That's all I got for this story and it's probably gonna change and be tweaked over time.

Now for the third story of Splatoon 4. I barely have anything for this but it will star the new Idol duo of the game, Off the Hook, Eight and Captain. I think it'll be like Octo Expansion in terms of gameplay and difficulty, but also expanded and longer to complete.

OKAY! NO MORE SPLATOON 4! TIME TO TALK ABOUT HYPNO CALLIE!

Hypno Callie Rewrite.

Honestly, the way I would go about rewriting Hypno Callie is very simple... Remove the Hypnoshades. That's it. She can still have them as an aesthetic part of her outfit, but i would make it so Callie is no longer hypnotized and it's WAY MORE clear to the audience that Callie is suffering from mental illness and that she left with the Octarians, not "kidnapped, overpowered and brainwashed into being a mind controlled slave." Splatoon 2 was always about the separation of the Squid Sisters and their eventual healing and reunion, it was always gonna be about that but due to time constraints probably, they rushed it and introduced bullshit shades to make it easier and simpler, they then tried to fix it later with an obscure post with a relationship chart that no one even fucking talks about, even timeline explainers fail to fucking mention it... ugh...

Making Callie an actual antagonist that has been manipulated by Octavio, whispering to her and playing into her insecurities and pain is way more compelling and makes more sense for Octavio to do as a character. Like how the fuck did he come up with the Hypnoshades and why did he only use it on Callie? He can just make hypnosis tech out of nowhere? Huh? It makes way more sense for Octavio to just manipulate her as he is a master of words and propaganda.

So what I would do is introduce a new mandatory collectable in the Splatoon 2 Hero Mode called "Callie's diary." At certain moments in the campaign Agent 4 and Marie find pages from Callie's diary as she explains her feelings and pain from being overworked and feeling some resentment as Marie has stopped calling or texting her. Marie looks so ashamed and disappointed and starts blaming herself for Callie's disappearance. Some of the diary entries include the photos found in Sunken Scrolls 21 and 22. The last diary entry found in Sector 4 is an emotional rant from Callie the day she went missing. She rants about how she can't take working anymore and how she's so lonely. Her last line is "if no one truly cares for me up here... Then... Maybe..." And there's a small tear stain at the bottom of the page.

Now for the final boss, the main plot points would occur sorta the same way, you fight Octavio and Callie, after a bit Marie comes in and shoots her in the eye, Callie calms down, blah blah blah. I actually really do like the idea of the "low tide ink" that the English translation team introduced. I think it's a neat idea that Marie has this special ink that calms someone down so I'll keep that for the rewrite.

However, during the final boss, i would make it to where Marie is really trying to reach to Callie and trying to convince her that she is loved and she matters, she tries to apologize for her actions and explains that Octavio is just manipulating her for the Octarians' goals. Callie fights back and doesn't wanna listen to her, constantly trying to shut her down. Marie even reminds Callie of their childhood and it almost gets to Callie, but she becomes more emotional and angry, she's so confused because deep down she knows Marie is right, but she's so scared to listen to her because she doesn't want to get abandoned again.

However what really gets to Callie is Marie collapsing on her knees and crying, just begging her badly to come back to her. And Marie says "I love you...." Callie is in shock and starts getting flashes of good memories with her and Marie. She holds the shades in her hands and destroys them. Callie leaps into the air and collides into Marie's arms, and they cry their eyes out and say sorry to each other.

The battle plays out the same but i would like to add another cutscene after Octavio gets his shit kicked in, Callie and Marie are on Sheldon's van and they look at the sunset together. I think that would be really sweet and connect beautifully with the credits and Fresh Start.

I took a lot of inspiration from the game Marvel's Spider-Man 2 and two boss fights in particular. The Miles vs. Peter fight, and the Spider-Man vs. Scream/MJ fight. In those boss fights, it's sort of like a therapy session for the characters in that the people under the symbiote are venting about their issues and expressing their anger they have kept hidden for so long, and the person on the other side is trying desperately to reach for them and save them from themselves. It's really powerful shit honestly and it made me feel emotional seeing Peter go "ALL I WANTED WAS TO SAVE EVERYONE! MJ! MAY! NOW THE CITY THINKS I'M THE PROBLEM! you think I'm the problem." Like i know it's kind of crazy to take inspiration from a game made for adults and take some of it into Splatoon but... I really don't give a shit. Children's media can show powerful scenes of characters struggling with their inner demons. They can do it and have proven to be successful. Children can handle it, they can.

Now... i have worked on a Splatoon 2 finale rewrite and I'm pretty much almost done with it, i need to finish the last bit of it and then go over it again so I'm fully happy with it. However i don't know how to present it as it's in the form of a script and idk how that's gonna work on tumblr, i mean i could put it on AO3 but idk if i wanna make an account just to post one thing on there and idk how many scripts get posted onto AO3 anyways...

It's like I'm a chef and I'm cooking something, but there's no waiter to deliver the food lmao.

ANYWAYS! Thank you for reading my autistic ass ramblings! I got so much free time that i just so much of it just writing down fan concepts for things on different games and stuff (I have a 42 page and counting document on a potential Sonic Frontiers 2.) Yeah... I got THAT kind of autism, not the maths and science one... Again, thank you for reading!

[kksverse]

Huddled

A/N: Hi! I am new to Tumblr and am not really sure how to set up the posts/requests/masterlists, but if you guys enjoy this and want more just comment or message me! Not sure if I like it or not so enjoy!

I also have it posted on AO3 here !

masterlist

Summary:

 When a mission in rural Russia goes south, the team is forced to find shelter to hide from the brutal Russian winter. 

Or 

Getting sandwiched by 2 big men is no big deal until its König and Ghost

Pairing: Ghost/OFC/Köing

Word Count: 3268

Calina had always had a strong affinity to the moon and everything that surrounds it. She believed that it was because her mother named her after the moon. She would spend nights in the Russian wilderness, a place in which she called home, bathing in the moonlight until eventually her father would find her asleep outside at dusk, cursing her for forgetting her coat and coaxing her into the warmth of her home. 

Nights where the moon was at its fullest were Calina’s favorite. That's why when she woke up to her head pounding and her ears ringing, she felt nothing but peace. 

The light of the full moon cast down on her face as she took in her surroundings and for the first time since she gained consciousness, felt her body. 

Suddenly, she felt the coldness of the snow nipping at her back through her clothes. Pain radiating from every part of her body and her head felt too heavy to pick up from the snow. She felt like screaming, crying, and throwing up all at once. 

Because worst of all she remembered. Remembered everything. 

Her dad. The militia. The raid. The explosion. 

Anger and grief fueled her body as she rose from the ground. Fire burned all around her as the place that held her captive for the past two years burned to the ground along with her captors inside. 

For the first time in two years she was outside and had no idea where she was. She didn’t even know if she was still in Russia. 

Suddenly a twig snapped behind her, gasping as she turned around with her fists formed in some protective stance. Her heart almost jumped out of her chest as she took in the masked giant in front of her donned in military attire. She wasn’t entirely sure that her punch would even tickle the man but she continued to keep them in front of her. 

When König was first informed of the rescue mission in the middle of nowhere during the nastiest winter Russia has seen in 20 years he thought nothing of it. For a man of his size nothing seems to faze him. However, when the chopper dropped them off within the perimeter the intensity of the situation hit him. 

“‘Just another mission’ huh big guy?” Soap chitteered towards him as he noticed the change in König’s demeanor. 

Ghost huffed beside him, “You should never underestimate the cold. Would rather get hit with 10 bullets before my dick freezes off” 

“Wouldn’t want some Russian kid to mistake it for the nose of their snowman would you?” Soap bickered back laughing as Ghost rolled his eyes in response. 

“Focus up now, this is an extraction only mission. Remove the girl safely with minimal risk. That means not shooting for the sake of it. After the extraction has been confirmed, meet at the meet up spot and wait for the signal” Price stands at the entrance of the chopper signaling for his team to drop. 

The team stealthy drops from the chopper and once they reach the ground static from the comms fill their ears as Price gives them a farewell. 

The team rounded the perimeter as they approached the small cottage in the middle of the forest. König didn’t feel right about this extraction and he couldn’t shoulder the feeling as he gave Ghost coverage to the opening of the cottage.  

As they breached, König felt uneasy as he didn’t hear Soap come in on the comms confirming entry. Ghost turned back to look at him, giving him a confused look. A loud noise within the cottage made them inch their way inside. The walls were decorated with weapons of all kinds, ranging from international military warfare to underground black market weapons. 

Ghost and König suddenly heard Soap's voice yelling in the distance. Before they could even make their way to his side, someone ran right into Ghost's arms knocking him down as he was taken by surprise. König immediately had his weapon drawn at the intruder but quickly lowered it as he confirmed that it was the girl that they were supposed to extract. 

She fought against Ghost but as soon as she saw that he was not her kidnapper she quieted down enough for Ghost and König to quickly evacuate the cottage. Running out into the snow they heard gunshots fired from the windows and immediately threw themselves to the ground to shield themselves from the bullets. After it went quiet, König looked towards his teammate to make sure him or the girl were hit but he was surprised to only see Ghost beside him. Looking around he quickly spotted the girl running away from the cottage. 

Standing to go after her, he was immediately taken down again by a hot blast behind him. That's when he knew he was absolutely fucked. 

“не двигайся! кто ты?” Calina’s hot breath turned into frost as she confronted the man. 

“My name is König. I was a part of the mission designed to extract you” An accented voice replied. 

Calina felt goosebumps crawl up her arms as he spoke and she did everything to convince herself that it was the Russian winter and not the deepness of his voice. 

“How do I know if you’re telling the truth?” Calina’s arms are still raised in front of her in a protective stance weary of König. 

König said nothing but instead reached into his tactical vest pulling out a gold necklace. Calina's heart dropped as she recognized the necklace that her mother would always wear before she passed away. Her father always kept it on his person like it was the most important thing in the world. Dropping her hands to her side, König stepped forward and dropped the necklace into the palm of her hand. Calina tried not to let the memories of her father resurface to prevent embarrassing herself in front of some man she didn't even know. 

Suddenly, she felt hands around her waist as König pulled her behind him with his gun pointed into the darkness of the woods. Calina held in a breath as she tried to look around König's back to see what the threat was. If her kidnappers survived the explosion and were coming back for her. A chill ran down her spine at the thought of going back. 

"Friendly!" Another masked man appeared from the forest, he wasn't as big as König but he still towered over her. She could tell from the uniform and the way that König's body relaxed against her that König knew this man. 

"Ghost what the hell. I could've shot you" The man named Ghost stepped closer to them and she realized that he had on a different kind of baclava on than König. Where König's was a blank material Ghost had a skull painted on the front of it. 

"Have you made any communication?" Ghost questioned his teammate. 

"I tried the line but got no response. The comms must be down. The area is clear I haven't spotted anyone else, we would have to get to higher ground" Both König and Ghost glanced up the mountain beside them. Calina followed their gaze, growing up the mountains were forbidden during the winter. The fresh snow was harder and more dangerous to climb than compacted snow, making those who do climb the mountain idiotic in the face of the elders. Calina could hear her Babushka warn her about the dangers of the winters and honestly she didn't know what her Babushka would do in this situation but she knows what she would do. What she has to do. 

"We should go up that path" Calina poked out from behind König to gesture to the trail underneath the thick trees. Ghost looked surprised at her appearance and looked to König but König must've said it all with a look because he didn't otherwise say anything. 

"As you say, I will lead the way. Stay close"

Calina couldn’t describe why being surrounded by two giants of men lit a fire in her stomach rather than make her scared. Pushing the thought off to the lack of human contact and touch within the last two years she tried to ignore the feeling of Ghost against her back following her up the mountain with König in front of her blocking the downward wind. 

However, the three of them stop suddenly as they hear a huge crack in the earth. Like it was the call of her people, Calina knew instantly what it meant and grabbed König in front of her, throwing him back onto a rock beside them. 

“Avalanche!” Calina yelled to Ghost behind her as she reached to pull him to safety but instead of finding him standing behind her he had lost his footing and was fighting against the loose snow. 

Calina hurriedly reached down to grab his hand but as they connected hands she quickly realized that she was not strong enough to hold onto his body weight against the pull of the avalanche and she was quickly pulled forward against the rock at the added weight. 

Bracing for the coldness of the snow, she was surprised at the sudden heat against her entire body. Blood rushed to her cheeks as she realized that König was practically laying on top of her body reaching for his team mate and preventing her from falling into the avalanche. Pure muscles worked above her as König pulled Ghost onto the rock. Trying to calm the fire in her stomach, she rolled out from under König after Ghost was pulled to safety. 

“You got quick reflexes,” Ghost said to her as he brushed off the snow from the layers of tactical wear. 

“I grew up in these woods, it was mostly muscle memory” Calina avoided looking into their eyes trying to calm her beating heart. 

“Either way you saved our lives. We are in your debt” König looked at her in a way that made her want to combust. She hated how seductive that sounded and she absolutely loathed the way Ghost was staring at her like he could read her mind. 

Not trusting her voice she quickly stood up, instantly feeling a rush of ice cold air on her face. Coldness seeped into her bones from the lack of protective clothing. The light jacket and linen pants did next to nothing at keeping her warm and as the adrenaline in her body wore off the more she was being affected by it. 

Ghost noticed her body shaking from the cold and the strong urge to protect her almost knocked him off his feet. He tried to remind himself that she is a part of their extraction and nothing else but the way that her scent carries over to him as the wind goes through her hair and the feel of her body pressed against him as she unconsciously goes behind him to block herself from the wind makes him want to abandon all sense of control. 

However, he realized that he wasn’t the only one feeling that way as he looked at his teammate finding a similar light in his eyes as he remained locked on the woman cowardly behind him. 

Shaking off the thought, Ghost searches out in the distance for any form of shelter to get her, them, out of this weather. Looking through his NVG’s he finds a small shed located half a mile away. It looked small for the three of them but it would have to work. 

“There is shelter to get through the night, just half a mile north” König nods to Ghost to lead that way allowing Calina to get in between them once more. 

Calina tried to calm her shivering offering the thought of persevering for half a mile and then she could be warm. But she knew that to be unlikely, the only shelter she can imagine in such an isolated place is not livable. Meaning she will not be sleeping in a bed nor among thick blankets she doubted they would even be able to light a fire, the realization of that almost sent her to tears. 

She trained her eyes on the back of Ghost, noticing his body also being affected by the cold. His body visibly vibrated from shivering, his arms stretched across his chest trying to preserve body heat. Calina quickly sobered up from the cold and realized that these men were not born and raised through Russia’s winter. Her body and blood was born for these mountains. The softness of her body was made to combat these temperatures. 

However, these men were made of pure muscle and none of the softness that kept her somewhat warm. By the time they reached the shed the toughest members of the 141 were broken down into two trembling masses. Calina quickly rushed towards the door of the shed and pulled it open against the wind. Ghost and König shuffled in while she closed the door making sure no wind could creep in. 

König had never felt so cold in his life. He could feel it in his blood clinging to his bone. It was embarrassing that he couldn’t stop shaking. His hands vibrated against him as he stood on wobbly knees. 

He has crossed the most dangerous of organizations, the deadliest of humans, and yet this night the cold will finish him off. 

It was humbling to say the least, to watch a woman that has experienced nothing but solitude and isolation amongst her own fathers murderers for the last two years was handling this better than him. He and Ghost watched as she searched the shed for any blankets or extra clothes, though they doubted they would fit either man. 

Tears were forming in Calina’s eyes as she pulled a thick soft blanket from under a box. She could almost laugh as she realized that she would be able to survive through the night. For the first time that night she was finally able to relax and for the first time in two years she was able to sleep knowing she was safe. Turning to Ghost and König, she held the blanket in front of her proudly as a way to show them that they were probably not going to die tonight. Suddenly all thoughts left her brain as she finally realized the situation in front of her. 

She would have to sleep with them. In this small shed. Sharing one blanket. 

A familiar heat arose in her stomach at the thought of being sandwiched between these giants. A moan almost escaped her as she could imagine the warmth of being between them. 

Sometime in between the time of entering the shed to her finding the blanket, Ghost and König had both removed their wet clothes leaving them both in long pants that were under their uniform. Both males were shirtless and for the first time Calina realized that she could see their faces. 

Her mouth remained open as her eyes filtered between the two of them. They were devastatingly handsome in a roguish way that she expected. As she moved towards them she realized the height difference felt much more as they towered over her. 

“You should remove your clothes” König’s voice rattled.

Looking down at her clothes she noticed that the bottom of her pants and top were soaked from the avalanche and being pressed against the snowy rock. 

She refused to remember the feeling of being pinned by König. 

“Don’t fear you can trust us. You will get sick if you sleep in those wet clothes, liebling” König’s voice was gentle as he grabbed the blanket. Ghost quickly gathered some hay from the corner to soften the cold hard ground beneath them. König handed Ghost the blanket as he settled on the hay waiting for Calina and König. 

König was gentle in helping Calina out of her shirt and pants. He didn’t miss the way she covered her belly or chest after getting out of her wet clothes and König didn’t miss the way his heart squeezed against his chest at the sight of her. 

Calina’s heart was beating fast as she felt ghosts of König’s fingertips against her body. She tried to not feel embarrassed about her body as more of it became revealed. She definitely tried not to think of running back out in the storm when she realized that she didn’t have a bra on. She faced König and Ghost bare chested and was surprised when she wasn’t met with total disgust. 

Instead, König looked at her with a hunger and awe in his eyes while Ghost just looked like he wanted to devour her. Their attention almost made her feel warm but a sudden gust of wind knocked against the house making the shed feel like an ice box. A violent shiver racked through her as König held out his hand gesturing to the makeshift bed of hay that Ghost was occupying. 

Calina settled on the floor facing Ghost leaving some room between them. However, that served no purpose as König squeezed in beside her pushing her body flush to the front of Ghost while König was pressed against her back. Warmth immediately seeped into the three of them as König covered them with the thick blanket that thankful was big enough to cover all of them.

A silence filled the air as Calina was trying not to freak out at being sandwiched between two of the hottest giants she has ever come across. She could feel the ripple of their muscles as they both shuffled to make themselves more comfortable in such a limited space. She remained as stiff as a board as they adjusted themselves hoping that they can’t feel her body in such an intimate space. 

A warm arm stretched out behind her and tightly wrapped around her torso pulling her snuggly the hard chest behind her. She let out a gasp at the feeling of being pressed to every inch of König’s body, trying not to think of what König thinks of the skin beneath his hands. 

Ghost watched as Calina blushed at the feeling of being held in such an intimate way. He wondered how long it had been since someone held her like this, since someone cared for her. Reaching his hand out, he ghosted his fingertips across her hairline down to her brows. She was looking at him so softly it made his heart squeeze beneath his chest. He could feel her chest rising and falling against his own and tried to not think about the way that it affected him. 

Nearly impossible to get closer, Ghost gently grabbed her arm that was pressed against his chest and guided it around his waist. He could feel her hesitate before she completely melted against him. She nuzzled her head into his chest and wrapped her leg over his own. The thoughts in his head were going static but he ignored them as he leaned down to press a smile against her hairline.

Calina was absolutely buzzing from the attention, she felt absolute warmth rush through her body and sit in her chest. A smile permanently etched on her face as she felt the pull of sleep. 

Ghost and König watched as she fell asleep and went limp in their arms, their hearts fluttering when they saw the smile that she held in her sleep. Neither looked at each other but both knew they were thinking the same thoughts. 

Saving the conversation for another day, they followed Calina into the depths of sleep.

[standfucker]

The Break

Characters: Kid, Killer

Reader: GN, they/them

Word Count: 7.5k

CW: Gore, graphic description of injury+pain+first aid, hurt/comfort, confessions, highly oblivious reader

Summary: You knew you were bad with feelings, but the fact that it took a severe injury for this to come to light was maybe a little concerning.

Ao3 Link

There had only been two moments in your entire career as a pirate where you didn’t live up to your “Slippery” epithet. The first time was when Eustass Kid had bested you in combat. Rather than killing you, he offered you a place on his crew, which you had accepted–partially in the hopes of becoming stronger, and maybe also because you kind of found him incredibly attractive. That was three years ago.

The second time was right now. The enemy’s weapons consist of giant, metal crab claws, one of which snaps shut around your forearm with the force of an industrial machine before you can shave away. You’re pretty sure the whole battlefield heard the snap. A few things run through your brain in quick succession:

One–that’s going to hurt really, really badly in a second. You only have a short amount of time to counterattack.

Two–this was karma for that conversation in the mess room a few weeks ago, where you taunted the others over your having never broken a bone.

“I grew up on a dairy farm. My bones are like iron. Don’t compare it to the shortbread you all have for a skeleton.”

“You just haven’t battled enough, Slip.”

“Wrong! It’s because no one can catch me. They call me ‘Slippery Y/n’ because I’m too fast.”

“Yeah, yeah. But not fast enough, since you’re with us now!”

“Fuck off!”

Not fast enough indeed. But at least, now, you’re within striking range of the enemy. He doesn’t block in time; your scimitar opens his throat like a cut purse and sends him to his knees, gurgling. Your arm is released and you collapse on the ground, but before you can get back up, the pain hits with an intensity that immediately rips an agonized scream from deep in your lungs.

It’s like your arm’s been doused in gasoline and set on fire. Burning and sharp, sharp, sharp, so overwhelming you’re nauseous. You make the mistake of looking at your arm, and the flash of white sticking through the skin nearly makes you vomit on the spot. Seeing it for what it is somehow makes the pain worse, leaving you breathlessly curling over yourself on instinct, unable to move. Somewhere next to you the body of your enemy thuds onto the ground, dead.

The battle against the opposing crew is almost over. Though it’s not much longer before the last enemy is slain and someone rushes to your side, it feels like an eternity.

“Slip, are you okay?” You hear Hip’s voice before you, high-pitched with concern. It drops once she notices your injury. “Are you–oh. Oh, fuck. Um, guys! Hey, you guys! Slip is really hurt!”

Footsteps, more voices. One by one, crewmates converge around you.

“Oh, ew.”

“Oh, shit, Slip!”

“Slip!”

“Get out of the way!” 

That last one would be Kid. You look up in time to see him push past a crewmate, face taught in what seems like anger but you’ve since learned to recognize is worry. Most of his deeper emotions are like that, sitting in the shadow of enmity but easily discernible if you knew him well enough.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asks, unable to assess your full state with you hunched over. The gruesomeness of your injury doesn’t seem to bother him. You shake your head, and relief softens his expression. “Okay. I know it hurts, but you’re gonna live.”

“I can’t get up,” you gasp, breath coming out short.

“Then I’ll carry you to the ship. Doctor’s on standby.” Kid crouches down next to you, flesh hand resting on your good shoulder. “It’s gonna hurt. Sorry in advance, Y/n.”

He’s the only one who doesn’t call you by your nickname. It makes sense, as he’s the one who caught you in the first place–it doesn’t really apply to him.

“It already hurts,” you reply, stupidly inviting more karma. Kid must think the same thing, because he frowns at you.

“Oh, just wait,” he mutters, and scoops you up as carefully as he can. The movement tears fresh hell through your arm, and you shout before you can even think to hold it in.

At least he doesn’t say ‘I told you so.’ It would only be salt in the wound, and you’re already in so much pain you can barely think. The walk back to the ship is its own trial, every step jolting your arm again, even with Kid’s best efforts to move smoothly. You tell yourself to be tough for about three seconds before it goes out the window. Frankly, you don’t deal with it well at all–you’ve never had a strong pain tolerance, it’s partly why you learned to be quick–but you manage not to scream with every step, so that’s something.

It’s a terrible shame that you’ll only remember this as excruciating–under any other circumstance, you would have cherished being held by Kid like this.

You glimpse your injury again, a wave of queasiness rising in your stomach, and press your face into Kid’s shoulder so as not to look. “I’m gonna throw up,” you say weakly.

“Since when does gore bother you?” Kid says under his breath, but you hear it.

“Since it is coming from MY BODY!!” you snarl. For once, Kid pities you enough not to scold you for talking back.

You’re shaking by the time you get to the infirmary. Most of the crew has come out of the battle unscathed, or with only minor injuries. The ship’s doctor is only concerned with you, and getting your bleeding to stop. But to close the rip…

“I have to reset the bones, first,” he says.

That was obvious to anyone with eyes, but you didn’t really think about it until just then. Your guts turn to stone at the thought, heavy and sinking as your heart starts to race. The lightest movement to your body is already enough to make you want to quit life on the spot; you are not prepared, capable, nor willing to see what it would feel like when the bone itself is directly touched. 

“You can leave it as-is,” you say, not joking in the slightest, not caring if it sounds cowardly, not even caring that half the crew is surrounding the exam table to hear it.

Kid takes one look at the fear in your eyes and turns to the rest of the crew. “Get out,” he commands. Everyone complies without question, only Killer staying behind, the unspoken exception.

Once the last person closes the door behind them, Kid focuses on you. “Y/n–”

“I can’t do it,” you cut him off, eyes welling up with tears. “I–I don’t want to.”

“Tough,” Kid snaps. “This is what you get for getting caught.”

“Kid,” Killer says, a warning to go easy on you.

It’s not necessary. You can see right through Kid’s harsh exterior. He always gets upset when a crewmate is hurt badly. What he’s really saying is ‘this is what you get for making me worry.’

“No time for discussion,” says the doctor. “I’d like to get this done before any more blood is lost. Hold them down, would you?”

Before you can protest, Kid and Killer secure you in place: Kid’s metal hand presses down on your legs while his flesh one wraps tightly around your good arm, and Killer pins your torso to his from behind.

“Wait, wait, wait!” you cry out quickly, but you can’t budge against them both. 

Kid nods at the doctor. “Do it.”

The disinfectant comes first, stealing the breath from your lungs, like acid on your exposed flesh. The doctor gives you no time to process the first action before he moves onto the second–rationally, you know it’s to minimize the amount of time you’ll be in pain, but you are incapable of viewing his actions kindly at the moment. He immediately forces the bones back to where they should be in one firm, expert motion. 

The world goes white. Nothing exists anymore except for the pain in your arm, unimaginable and all-consuming. You don’t perceive anything else, blind and deaf to any stimuli that isn’t sheer agony. Later on, you’ll realize that you must have screamed, if the soreness when you speak is any indication, but you don’t remember it.

The intensity eventually wanes enough to restore your senses, though your head is still swimming from the assault. Your sight returns first. Instead of the cold infirmary, your vision is entirely filled by Kid, his face so close you’d be staring into his eyes if they were open. His forehead is pressed to yours, and he’s saying something, but you don’t process it until your hearing comes back a moment later.

“...did good, Y/n, you did good. You’re okay. Easy, you’re okay.”

Kid… you think dimly, followed by, huh. Have I seen him do this with anyone but Killer?

You don’t question it beyond that thought, hanging onto his every word. The closeness abates the hurt, even if just slightly, and you bask in it, taking any mercy you can get. Kid and ‘comfort’ aren’t things that generally go together, but to you–scared, in pain, and maybe just a little bit hopelessly in love with him–it’s everything.

Killer smooths your hair back. His solid chest against your back is grounding, helping you stay present through the haze of misery. You’re suddenly grateful he’s there, too, his presence equally as soothing as Kid’s, the degree to which triggering a new realization: It’s obvious in hindsight, but you’ve never been great at analyzing your own feelings, and as such, it only just dawns on you that you’re down just as bad for the first mate. The revelation would have been panic-inducing if it wasn’t for the pain currently demanding all of your attention.

“They still with us?” Killer asks behind you.

Kid’s eyes open, meeting yours. You’ve never seen them this close before. The irises are an orange-gold, reminding you of smoldering embers. Your breath leaves you once more, but you’re not sure pain is the cause this time. Though it must have left you delirious, because your mouth moves before your brain can catch up.

“You have pretty eyes,” you mumble.

Said pretty eyes widen, Kid pulling back in surprise. He glances at Killer. “...That answer your question?”

Killer hums, gently rubbing your good arm. You go limp, leaning your full weight back against him without shame, hurting too much to care right then. He doesn’t seem to mind, anyway.

There’s a faint tinge of pink on Kid’s face, and he smirks down at you. “Better be careful there, Y/n. You can’t blame what you say on a head injury.”

“Whatever,” you huff, knowing you can get away with being rude without repercussions for now. “I don’t–” your words break into a gasp as the pain in your arm spikes so intensely that spots dot your vision.

Kid’s smirk instantly falls. You try to look at your burning arm, but he turns your head back so you’re watching him instead.

“Don’t look. He’s stitching it now. Keep your eyes on me, okay?”

Another wave of pain has you fighting back a sob, barely able to keep it down. You instinctively go to look again, but Kid keeps your head from turning with a steady hand cupping the side of your face.

“Look at me, Y/n. There you go. Just hold on a bit longer.”

You try to do as he says, focusing on his eyes rather than the current torture, but it’s impossible. “Hurts so bad,” you whimper.

“I know,” Kid says softly. “We’re right here.”

The curved needle hooking through your skin isn’t the problem, nor is the nauseating sensation of the sutures sliding through the layers of flesh. Both, while admittedly sucking hard, are tolerable. The problem is that even as careful as he is, the doctor is still moving your arm with every stitch.

“Almost done,” Killer says, “almost done. You’re doing great.”

Am I really? you want to ask, but you’re currently unable to form anything more coherent than groans and curses.

The final trial is the splint, more unbearable movement to your arm that has you gripping the edge of the exam table so hard your knuckles turn white. Killer takes notice, peeling your hand from the table to hold in his, instead. Despite his hand being twice the size of yours, you’re pretty sure you crush it with the strength of your grip, but he doesn’t complain.

“I’ll apply a proper cast once the swelling goes down,” the doctor says once he’s finally, finally fucking done. “Rest in one of the patient beds and keep your arm above your heart as much as possible. You’re to sleep here until further notice.”

You’re helped into one of the beds, and once the doctor’s applied ice packs to your injury, Kid dismisses him. The three of you are left alone, Kid and Killer pulling up chairs next to the bed. Lying back, you stare blankly at the ceiling, catching your breath, humbled and terrified at the human body’s ability to feel such all-consuming anguish. Adrenaline still courses through your veins, making you jittery and hyper-aware, and you’re sweating, but at least the pain in your arm has simmered down to a dull, throbbing ache. While it still feels like the bones are screaming at you, you can endure it quietly, though it does make your eyes water. 

With the diminishing of the pain comes just enough clarity for you to feel utterly and totally disgraceful. You don’t think you’ve ever heard anyone on the crew scream like you had, and plenty of them had endured their fair share of awful injuries. So why couldn’t you handle it better? How could you call yourself a pirate after such a display? All of that, and still visibly on the verge of tears now that it was over? You’d be more embarrassed about crying in front of them if you hadn’t just spent the enitre past fifteen minutes acting like a complete bitch.

Kid may have said you couldn’t blame your words on a head injury, but you think the pain alone is enough to make you loopy, because you find yourself laughing shortly at the thought. It’s more of a huff and a grin, really–anything more would jostle your arm.

“Y/n?” Kid asks, concerned.

“It’s just,” you glance at him, then back at the ceiling, smiling ruefully. “I wanted to be tough, if you can believe that. But I couldn’t manage it… Pitiful, right?”

“What are you talking about?” Kid scowls. “That pirate broke your arm and you still killed him.”

“Only because I didn’t feel it right away. It doesn’t count. When push came to shove, I couldn’t handle it at all. I’m a Kid Pirate–I should be tougher. And yet, I…” You blink, and the tears gathered at the corners of your eyes break free, running down your temples. “I didn’t have it in me.”

“Y/n…?”

You look between Kid and Killer. Kid’s worry is evident behind the tension in his face, and while Killer’s expression is hidden, there’s nothing in his body language to suggest he’s upset with you. Your smile wavers, chest getting tight. The next wave of tears has nothing to do with pain.

“Aren’t you ashamed of me?” Your voice cracks, as if you couldn’t be any more pathetic.

“Don’t,” Kid says stiffly. “Don’t do the self-pity thing now. It doesn’t suit you.”

“But I–”

“Look,” Killer says, “everyone’s different, with different tolerances for pain. You don’t need to be unfeeling to be a capable fighter.”

Easy for him to say–Killer had the highest pain tolerance in the crew. Still, you don’t miss the compliment, mentally clinging to it like it could redeem you.

“You think I’m a capable fighter?” you ask, voice small.

“I invited you onto my crew for a reason, okay?” Kid says. “I saw potential. I still see it. You’ve gotten stronger since we first met.” Kid looks away. “...I haven’t once regretted my decision.”

“Oh…” Self-doubt tells you that Kid’s just saying those things to make you feel better, but experience has you discarding the thought. You know him better than that. Kid has always meant what he said, he wouldn’t make such claims lightly. The words are real and sincere, threatening to make you cry harder, but you force it down. He’s never liked dealing with tears.

Kid won’t meet your eye. From your angle on the bed, you can see a blush spread across his cheeks, darker than before. Maybe that’s why he makes to leave, pushing his chair back and getting up, Killer following suit. Or maybe he just means to check on the crew. Regardless, a surge of objection rises in your chest, every bit as selfish and puerile as a child protesting their parents leaving them in daycare.

“You’re going?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

They pause, Kid turning back to you. “Do you want us to stay?”

You don’t look at him when you nod shallowly, ashamed. But you don’t want to hurt alone. Rationally, you know you’re going to be in pain for a long while, and they can’t be at your side the whole time. Still, if they’ll let you, then you’ll be self-centered for just a bit longer.

Kid and Killer sit back down.

“Thanks,” you say quietly. Then, even quieter, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t fucking apologize,” Kid grumbles. “I told you to knock that shit off.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. He could be so rough about it, but there was genuine care behind his refusing to let you wallow in self-pity.

Killer takes your hand. “Is this the first time you’ve been injured like this?” he asks.

You nod.

“Listen... Sometimes, when you’re hurt bad enough physically, it messes with your head, too,” Killer says. “You feel vulnerable and insecure. Helpless, even. So,” he squeezes your hand lightly, “it’s okay if you’re more sensitive than you normally would be. No one's going to hold it against you. You came out of the battle alive. That’s what matters.”

Damn him and his tenderness, you’re trying not to cry. You pull your hand away, lower lip wobbling, and take a shaky breath, holding it down. You glance at Kid. He’s staring hard at your broken arm. Suddenly his ire stops being transparent–just like when you first joined the crew, you’re completely unable to discern what he’s really thinking. All you see is the discontent, so close to disapproval that it makes you uncertain.

“Are you, um,” you say nervously, “are you mad at me?”

“No,” Kid says, but it comes out a bit stiff. “At least, not for the reason you think. I’m proud of you for taking out that pirate. He was twice your size and faster, but you still won.” He taps his nails against his metal hand. “Y/n… When Hip said you were really hurt, I feared the worst. I thought you’d been fatally injured.”

“Can’t get rid of me that easily,” you joke.

“Shut the fuck up!” Kid snaps, glaring. He’s gritting his teeth, eyes hard and angry, but then there’s a break, a crack in his expression. It’s just a glimpse, but for the first time, you see fear behind the fury. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again. Got it? Or I’ll break your other arm.”

Despite the harsh words, emotion swells in your chest, fuzzy and light. You feel yourself tearing up again. “Yes, captain.”

“You’re a real pain in my ass, you know that?”

You smile slightly. “Yes, captain.”

Kid leans back in his chair, arms crossed, scowl etched deep. You watch as Killer touches Kid’s arm briefly, reassuring. With the worst of the pain behind you comes the presence of mind to start overthinking, and you dive right in: They have each other. It’s clear that they care about you, but it will never be in the way you want. 

The ache in your arm seems fitting, a backdrop of physical pain behind the emotional. Liking Kid is stressful enough, but now that you were aware of your feelings for Killer, it was compounded, growing like a chemical reaction into something huge and overwhelming. As a trusted crewmate, you pretty much have front row seats to the small intimacies those two exchange. How are you supposed to go on watching and not be eaten alive by jealousy? 

Maybe you should leave. Maybe this was your sign that the good times had run out, and it was time to strike it out solo again. You don’t want to go–crushes aside, you were fond of the crew, having come to see them as family–but could you handle living with Kid and Killer now? The unrequited desire was already burrowing under your skin like a grass seed, threatening to travel and lodge deep into your heart. Cutting ties now would spare you more hurt in the long run.

But first you had to heal from this injury, something better done with the security of a crew protecting you.

Then, unprompted, Killer reaches over to wipe the sweat from your forehead, and you start reconsidering even that notion. If they were going to be gentle the entire recovery period, you were really gonna lose it. The compassion was too close to intimacy, a taste of what you couldn’t have. 

"The next few months are gonna blow," you say, the true meaning of the statement masked.

"Just wait until it starts itching under the cast," Killer says lightly.

"Ugh. And I'll hardly be able to move." You grimace. "I'll need help even with basic tasks… You're right, Killer, it does feel helpless."

"It'll be fine," Kid says. "You have us and the crew." 

He's still frowning, but you can read him again. Not that you need to with the frankness of his words.

"At least there's a bright side," you smile impishly, "if you're gonna be soft this whole time."

"Watch it," Kid warns, but his lip curls up just a bit. "Don't get used to it."

Too bad for him, you fully intend to abuse your power. It’ll be interesting to see how much you can get away with, and you might as well have some kind of outlet for these awful feelings in the meantime.

“Nah, I’m gonna enjoy it while I can,” you say, “because it’s not gonna happen another time. I’m gonna get even stronger, so I’ll never go through that again.” You wipe away the gathered tears with the back of your hand. “I’m gonna surpass even the shave technique. I’ll be uncatchable.”

Kid and Killer exchange glances–an impressive feat considering Killer’s mask, but that’s just the kind of wavelength they’re on–and then they look at you, Kid wearing one of his rare serious expressions. “I know the last half hour was rough, Y/n. But you won’t get any better as a fighter if fear is your motivator.”

That makes you pout, mostly because you know he’s right. Arguing that it had worked out for this long was pointless, because it really hadn’t. You only survived the fight with Kid years ago because of his whims, and today’s battle had ended in agony. You wouldn’t be forgetting it anytime soon, but maybe that was better. Maybe a reminder that you weren’t invulnerable was what you needed. So long as you didn’t succumb to fear, like Kid said.

“I guess it wasn’t entirely miserable,” you muse, thinking back to how Kid carried you to the ship. That was a lie–you were hurting far too badly to enjoy the contact–but the thought that it happened still made you kind of happy, in a messed up way. Maybe you were more touch-starved than you thought. “I got to be held. Can’t remember the last time I was that close to someone.”

Kid looks surprised, and then his expression slowly morphs into something smug, an arrogant smirk plastered on his face. “If you wanted to be close to me, Y/n, you could have just asked.”

Your cheeks instantly flare hot, caught so off-guard all you can do is stare in dumb shock before you turn your head away. What the hell was he doing? Why would he say that? Now there was an ache in your chest as well as your arm.

“Is that what this was all about?” Kid continues gleefully. “Did you let yourself get hurt so your captain would come take care of you?”

No, no, no. Don’t do this to me. Regardless of what he meant by the teasing, it felt like a weight was sitting over your sternum. And really, he was such a fucking jerk, taking obvious pleasure in your flustered response. Honestly, why did you even like him?

“We’re right here.”

Your brain plays the memory back like a traitor, impressing the reason. Why did he have to be so damned nice to you? Why couldn’t he have been cold or stern or even harsh, like usual? This would have been so much easier if he just told you off for screaming, or called you a pussy or something, but no. He had to hold you and reassure you and now you didn’t know what to do.

“Stop it,” you say, but it comes out small and feeble. This was all too much, especially now. Killer had a point–you were in a delicate way mentally. The walls weren’t up, you couldn’t buffer any of these feelings. “Talk to me like that and I’ll leave.”

Kid pauses. “What do you mean, you’ll leave?”

“I’ll leave the crew.”

“What?!” Kid grabs the arms of his chair, leaning forward like he didn’t hear you right the first time.

“Slip?” Killer questions.

You avoid their eyes. “I can’t–I can’t do this. I can’t be around you if you’re going to be like… like that.”

“The hell are you talking about?” Kid demands.

“Slip, what’s wrong?” Killer asks. “Was it something we said?”

“No! I mean, yes!” you say, tugging at your hair with your good hand. “I mean… I…”

“Where’s this coming from all of a sudden?” Kid says hotly. “What the hell is your problem?” 

“I’m in love with you!” you shout. “That’s my fucking problem, Kid!”

Oops. Well. It was out now. Might as well go all-in. You cover your face as you add, “Killer, too. I love you both. I’m sorry.”

The shame settles like rot in your stomach, as nauseating as the physical pain was. There was no taking it back now. You expect shocked silence, or even Kid getting angry. 

What you don’t expect is Kid, as casually as if discussing the weather, responding, “Oh. Yeah, I know.”

It takes a minute to process what he said, mentally flipping the words over in an attempt to parse them. Your hand slowly drops from your face, and you fix him with a look that manages to be both pointed and baffled. “...What?”

“I already knew that,” Kid clarifies.

You stare a hole through him. “...What?”

“What exactly are you not getting? I’m telling you I already knew.”

“Fucking excuse me?!” It finally processes, crashing over you like a boiling wave, drenching and searing all at once. “Since when?!”

“Since we met, you idiot.”

Your jaw drops. He had known all this time? For three fucking years? He knew?

“You’re not a subtle person, Y/n,” Kid says, then grins. “You got really, really worked up when I caught you that one time. It wasn’t hard to figure out.”

“You knew?” You look between him and Killer, at a loss. “The entire time?”

“Y/n, the whole crew knows.”

“What?!” You sit up so quickly it jostles your injury, sending a hellish jolt of pain through your arm that makes you hiss.

“Easy,” Killer says, gently pushing your good shoulder to prompt you to lay back.

“Don’t tell me to take it easy!” you snap, but acquiesce, letting him push you back. “What the hell do you mean, you knew… The crew knows… Oh my god…”

“There, there,” Killer says, but you can hear the amusement in his voice.

“Anyway,” Kid says nonchalantly, “you don’t have permission to leave.”

Ordinarily, you would say 'I wasn't aware I needed it,' but you're currently too stunned to reply. All this time. And the crew knows.

What are you to make of that? Kid doesn’t look upset. Killer doesn’t sound upset. They’re fine with your crush? Did such things really not bother them, or did they… No. There was no way. You can't wrap your head around the implications. There was no way. Right? Because if they liked you back, wouldn’t they have said something by now? 

You have to find out. Living on this ship with that hanging over you is beyond what you can handle. And with months of recovery ahead of you, now would be as good a time as any to shoot your shot.

But you only get out "Do you–" before your voice catches, the query dying in your throat. You can't say it, can't bring yourself to ask. Something in your head is as broken as your arm, refusing to form the words. 

Kid and Killer are listening, waiting for you to continue, but you shake your head. “Never mind.” 

The answer to that question would hurt, and you’ve had enough of that for a good, long while. But without it comes the uncertainty, which almost feels worse. Unable to reconcile how you feel and exhausted from the aftermath of the adrenaline, you find you just want to be close to them again. Maybe you’re too much of a coward to ask the crucial question. But you aren’t above taking advantage of your current state to seek out a bit of comfort.

"Back when I was a kid," you say, "and I had to go to the doctor, my guardian would take me to get a treat afterwards. Like ice cream or something."

"Yeah?" Kid says, grinning wide. "Is there something you want from me? What could it possibly be, I wonder?"

Suddenly you're tongue-tied. You didn’t expect him to cotton on so fast, but underestimating Kid was why you had lost to him in the first place three years ago.

When you don't respond, Kid rests his chin on his metal hand, having the gall to look even more smug. "You need to say it out loud, Y/n."

Fucking jerk. Fine. "Um…" you start, fresh heat warming your face, "well, uh… Can I have, uh… A hug…?"

Kid looks surprised at that for some reason, raising a brow. What was he expecting? Still, he rises from his seat, and you sit up in anticipation. This was enough for now. Just to be held, one more time. You could figure out the rest later.

“That’s really all you want?” Kid says, looking at you like he can’t figure you out. He leans over you, towering, your height difference exacerbated with you being seated. “A hug?”

“...Yeah?” you respond hesitantly, unsure of what he means by the question.

Kid regards you for a moment, searching your eyes. Then he smirks. “I’ll do you one better.”

Before you can register the meaning of his words, Kid tilts your chin up, leans in, and presses his lips to yours in a firm and intent kiss.

Suffice to say, your brain promptly short-circuits. For a moment, not a single neuron fires. Then there’s a storm of activity, a thousand different thoughts and feelings screaming all at once. At the same time, a soft sort of tingling spreads throughout your whole body, fluttering and warm, so pleasant that you could cry. And, for just a second, like something out of a fairy tale, you don’t feel any of the pain in your arm. (You can never, ever tell this to Kid–he will hold it over your head for the rest of your life.)

While you’re too shocked to reciprocate, once Kid pulls away, you find yourself leaning forward, chasing the contact. He notices, if his widening smirk is any indication.

“Better than a hug, right?” he says, self-satisfied.

“Um,” you respond cleverly, still bewildered by the action. “Uh… Kid? Do you… Do you like me?”

Kid pinches the bridge of his nose. “Y/n, I literally just kissed you. What the fuck do you think?”

“Wait, shut up. Hold on. Wait.” The fact that Kid doesn’t react to your telling him to shut up is a testament to his going easy on you, and you make a mental note of it for later. “If you liked me back, why didn’t you do anything about it?”

“What are you talking about? I’ve been flirting with you for years!”

Your eyes bug out at him. “You have?”

“For someone who thinks so quickly in battle, it’s amazing how slow you are on the uptake,” Kid says, exasperated. You frown, because rude, but he keeps going. “At first, when you didn’t respond, I thought you weren’t interested. But the way you acted around me and Killer proved otherwise. It was confusing as hell! Then, a few weeks ago, the crew was at a tavern, and you were approached by that bounty hunter–you remember?”

“Yeah… What about him?”

“He started flirting real heavy, and it all went right over your head. It was incredible to watch. I realized then that you weren’t sending me mixed signals on purpose, but that you were really just that fucking oblivious.”

You blink. “He was flirting with me?”

“He bought you a drink!” Kid shouts, throwing his arms out in frustration and nearly knocking over another bed with his metal one. Killer covers his mask over where his mouth would be, as if that would help him suppress a laugh.

“I thought he was trying to sucker me out of information.”

“He was trying to sucker you out of your clothes.”

“Oh… So that’s why you nearly killed him.”

You stare down at your lap as you try to process all the new information. Kid liked you back. Not only that, but he had been attempting to show it pretty much since the beginning. You knew you were bad with feelings, but the fact that it took a severe injury for this to come to light was maybe a little concerning. And what about Killer? He wasn’t nearly as open as Kid, so even if he had been showing similar signs, you would have never picked up on it.

“Does, uh,” you say, looking up at them, “does Killer also…?”

“Yeah,” Kid says, “Killer too, though he never flirted with you over it.”

“I kind of did,” Killer speaks up, “here and there, but I stopped when it seemed like you weren’t into it.”

You think back, trying to recall any times where that might have happened. While Killer seemed outwardly stoic, he was surprisingly affable toward crewmates, so you never thought twice about any lingering touches or supportive words coming from him.

“Um… Wow. I’m sorry,” you say, “I didn’t mean to be confusing. I guess I just never thought it was possible that anyone would like me that way.”

“Why would you think that?” Killer sounds genuinely confused, and you tense, the question dredging up a host of bad memories. That was one traumatic can of worms you didn’t need to open, so you just shrug it off. 

“Uh, no reason…”

“You’ve never been in a relationship?” Kid asks.

“Not really,” you say, rubbing the back of your neck. All of this was new territory, the revelation that they were both interested leaving you stumped. “...What do I even do now?”

“Whatever you want.”

You stare at Kid, then glance away, cheeks growing warm in embarrassment before you even say it. “...I want you to kiss me again.”

“You really think you deserve it after all that you’ve put us through?” Kid grins, but despite what he says, he leans right back in to grant your wish.

The second kiss is softer, even tender. Your eyes close as you cup his cheek, and his hand covers yours. That fluttering sensation returns, prickling across your skin like you’ve sunk into a warm bath, enveloping and soothing.

When Kid breaks free this time, you can’t help but look at Killer afterwards, the longing in your expression making your thoughts evident.

“What, I’m not good enough for you?” Kid accuses, but you can tell he’s teasing.

“No,” you say brightly, safe in the knowledge that he won’t retaliate while you’re injured. Or so you thought–Kid pinches your cheek (with his flesh hand, at least,) harder and harder until you apologize. You rub your sore cheek, pouting. “I swear I’m not complaining or anything, but, uh… You don’t want to, Killer?”

Killer turns his head away, quiet for a moment. “...I will… Once you’ve recovered, and the cast comes off.” He looks your way again. “So you have the motivation to heal quickly.”

Later on, when you’ve gotten to know him more intimately, you’ll look back and realize that the ‘motivation’ line was complete bullshit, and that he was just covering up his shyness. But right then, you accept him at his word, though you’re a bit disappointed.

“Sure. Okay.” You lay back in the bed, a smile slowly stretching your lips. “I can live with that.”

Today was a one-two punch in staggering experiences. First you went through the worst physical pain you’d felt yet, then Kid revealed that he and Killer both liked you back. You were ecstatic, of course–but the fact that you never had to go through breaking your arm to learn of it made you more than a little mad at yourself.

“We can talk about all this later,” Kid says. “You need to rest.”

“Yes, sir.”

Kid looks at you sharply, and you get a funny feeling in your gut. Did… Did he like that? What a stuck-up asshole. God, you love him. Which is why you’re going to use that against him later.

“Try and get some sleep, if you can. The next island we’re stopping at has a pharmacy. Once we raid it and restock our medical supplies, you won’t be hurting so much, so just hang on until then. Okay?” Kid touches your cheek.

“Okay,” you reply, trying not to show how giddy the simple action makes you.

But given that he knew of your attraction all this time, he can probably tell anyway.

“I can’t believe you didn’t say anything!” You glare at the crewmates sitting around your bed. The doctor will only let a few people in to see you at a time, so right now, it’s just Heat, Wire, and Quincy, the latter currently signing your cast. “Some nakama you are! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It would have interfered with the betting pool,” Wire says. 

“Betting pool?!”

“After a while,” Heat adds, “it just became kind of a social experiment.”

“Betting pool?!” you reiterate.

“Relax,” Quincy says, capping the marker. “If you get worked up, the doc will kick us out.”

“Fine.” You scowl, but relent, shoulders drooping.

“So how’d it go down?” Heat asks. “Did you tell Kid first, or did he tell you?”

“I said it first.”

“Damn,” Wire mutters, fishing a thick wad of cash out of his pocket and passing it to Heat.

Your eyes widen at the blatant exchange. “I will fucking strangle you both!”

“With one hand?” Wire asks, and the three of them burst into laughter.

You throw your medicine bottle at his head.

After months of waiting, you’re eager to finally have the cast off, but a part of you will miss looking at everyone’s signatures. Heat even drew the crew’s jolly roger on it.

“Some pain and stiffness afterwards is normal. Your range of motion will be limited. After months of being immobile, the muscles are weakened,” the doctor explains. “You are to wait one week before any exercise or heavy physical activity with that arm. Understand?”

The moment the cast is removed and the doctor releases you, you go find Killer on the ship.

“Hey, Killer!” You wave at him with your newly-healed arm, though you find the action is more difficult than you expected, just like the doctor said. “Cast is off, big guy. Time to pay up.”

When Killer doesn’t respond right away, you think maybe he’s forgotten what he said months ago. He looks around at the other crewmates on deck, then takes your hand and wordlessly leads you elsewhere.

“Killer?” you ask as you follow, but he remains silent.

Killer takes you all the way to the captain’s cabin, closing the door behind the both of you. Kid is currently there, sitting at his desk and looking over a map, head turning to you as soon as you enter.

“Everything okay?” Kid asks, then, noticing your cast is off, he smirks. “Oh, I see. Went for it first thing, huh, Y/n? You must have really been looking forward to it.”

“Shut up, Kid!” you say, face growing hot.

Kid rises from his seat, coming to stand behind you, and rests his flesh hand on your shoulder, squeezing in threat. “Careful, Y/n. You don’t have that injury to protect you anymore.”

Despite the warning, something about the way he says it, voice low and smooth, makes your stomach knot.

“Alright, alright, fine. Yes, I’ve been looking forward to it, okay? I’ve been thinking about it every day since,” you admit, swallowing. “But, Killer, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Killer is silent once more. You scan him anxiously, trying to get a read on his body language. He seems tense, so it takes you by surprise when he quietly says, “I want to.”

“Oh.”

Killer steps closer, right in front of you, so you’re sandwiched between the captain and first mate. Belatedly, you realize he’ll have to take off his mask, which you didn’t think about before. You’re not sure that even Heat or Wire have seen him without it, and you’re suddenly nervous that you’re violating some boundary by asking him to kiss you.

Then, Kid moves his hand from your shoulder to your face, covering your eyes from behind. You hear a faint noise like rustling hair that must be Killer removing his mask. Unable to see, you can only wait, heart pounding. It feels like forever before you feel his breath on your face, not making contact yet–he’s hesitating. And then, finally, after months of patience, he closes the gap, soft lips capturing your own.

Just like that, all your nerves melt away, fading behind the static that seems to spark through your body. You reach out for Killer blindly, hands landing in his hair before they slide down to hold his face, pulling as if you could draw him even closer. He sighs into your mouth in response, making your knees grow weak.

After far too short a time, Killer pulls away, and your grip on his face tightens in reluctance. 

“Wait, wait,” you mumble, “again. Please, I–”

Your protest is muffled by Killer’s mouth closing over yours again, swallowing your words and your sanity all at once. He’s firmer this time, indelicate and needy, large hands grabbing hold of your waist. The little whine that slips out of you is involuntary, and you hear Kid chuckle behind you.

Eventually, Killer breaks away, leaving the both of you stunned and flushed with endorphins.

“You have no idea, Y/n,” Kid whispers into your ear, raising goosebumps on the back of your neck. “How much he’s talked about this.”

“Like you haven’t been talking about them?” Killer says defensively. “The sheer amount of grievances I’ve had to listen to the last few years… Where do I even begin? First, there was–”

“Okay!” Kid cuts him off, uncharacteristically flustered. “I get it.”

You snicker, and Kid immediately wraps his metal hand around your hip, gripping just tightly enough so as not to be painful, but still securely enough so that you’re trapped in place. It’s huge in comparison to you, the pinky sinking into your thigh while the index presses into your stomach. You gasp, going rigid, the position intimately familiar–this was the exact way that Kid had caught you three years ago.

“You know, Y/n,” Kid says, his tone soft with warning, “you’ve been a real piece of work these last few months. Smart-mouthed. Insolent. Talking back to me. Thinking you were so safe because of your injury.” He’s speaking into your ear again, breath hot on your skin, and your heart starts to race. “I hope you enjoyed it while it lasted, Y/n, because I’ve been keeping track. Every comment, every cheeky little quip, I committed to memory, waiting for this moment. I think it’s time I paid it back. Wouldn’t you agree, Killer?”

“Definitely,” Killer responds without hesitation.

Heat courses through your body, collecting at the apex of your thighs. Still blinded by Kid, you can’t see Killer move, but you feel his rough fingers tracing your throat a moment later.

The third time around, you are perfectly okay with not having lived up to your epithet.

[steveshairychest]

Steve believes it's over; he believes they've won.

Sure, the town is divided by giant cavernous cracks, but that's not something he can fix with a nail bat. Steve's job is done. There'll be no more jumping through gates and fighting off monsters, no more injuries, and no more deaths.

Because they beat the bad guy.

Steve had watched him burn with his own eyes. He'd watched Nancy fire the shotgun right at Vecna's chest and taken pleasure in his screams as Vecna plummeted to his death. It came with a cost, but they won.

Things were just starting to fall back into place when he realised he was wrong. It starts as a faint sound, almost too quiet to hear over the chatter in his car, but it causes the hair on the back of his neck to stand and his hands to grip the wheel in fear. A quick glance in the rear vision mirror tells him no one else heard it. Mike makes a face at him when he meets Steve's eyes in the mirror and points at the road. "You don't have to keep checking. I swear I'm wearing my seatbelt."

No one notices the slight shake in his voice when he tells them to be quiet. No one notices his panic.

He hears it again when the kids pile out of the car. It's louder this time, almost deafening.

It's the sound of a clock, a grandfather clock.

Max had told him what it sounded like, she'd stared off into the distance and told him it made her heart race, made her so scared she felt sick. She said it sounded drawn out and wrong, like the clock was broken.

Steve hears that exact sound for days. It rings in his ears while he volunteers at the shelter, it deafens him in the middle of a conversation with Robin, it jolts him awake at night and leaves him reaching for the bat beside his bed.

But he doesn't tell anyone.

He doesn't tell anyone when his usual headaches get worse. He doesn't mention the hallucination of Barb he sees in his swimming pool when the kids come over to swim. He doesn't want to worry anyone, not when everything feels so normal, so peaceful.

But he's never been good at hiding secrets.

Especially not from Robin, who clocks him the minute he starts asking if she knows his favourite song and if she has a portable walkman. "But we won. We killed him." She chokes on her own words and they both slowly sink to the ground in a hug that nearly crushes them both. "You can't leave me, Steve. You can't. You can't. It's not fair. We won."

Steve holds her. He holds her so close to his chest and tries not to think about the reality that this might be their last hug. He doesn't have long now. If he were to lift his head from Robin's shoulder, he would be able to see the clock that has permanently wedged itself into the wall of his home.

Robin spends every waking hour with Steve from then on. She's there when he wakes in a cold sweat and she's there the first time Vecna gets him; the first time he feels cold fingers digging through his darkest memories to make him relive them all. He can hear the faint sounds of Robin's screaming as he is forced to relive the first time his father hit him, the first night he spent alone in his house, the first time he had his heart broken, the first time he watched a friend die.

'Dancing in the Dark' by Bruce Springsteen blares loudly in his ears just as Eddie's blood is drying on his clothes and then instead of kneeling in the grimy dirt of the upside down, he's kneeling on his kitchen floor, still in his pyjamas with Robin's arms holding him firmly in place.

"I thought it wasn't going to work." She cries. "You were in the air, Steve. I-I couldn't reach you. I had to climb on the bench -"

"It's okay. It worked. I'm here." He shushes her softly and brings their foreheads together; they're both breathing rapidly and there's tears staining their cheeks. "I'm not going anywhere." The clock chimes almost mockingly in his ears.

––––

Steve never expected to be back here. To be standing under the stormy red sky of the upside down, armed to the teeth with weapons to fight something they thought was already dead. But things haven't exactly been going his way as of late.

The second everyone found out Vecna has his eyes on Steve, they were all piling into multiple cars and fucking climbing down one of the cracks into the upside down.

What if they fail again? What if they go to all this trouble and Vecna snaps Steve like a twig the second they get too close?

Steve secretly wished the others never found out. He wished they were all still up in Hawkins swimming in his pool and laughing so loud it drowned out the clock in his ears. He wished they would listen if he told them to leave him here, to go home and forget about him.

"It wouldn't stop with you." Nancy says to him because she can read him like a fucking book. Steve didn't even have to say anything. She touches his arm gently and offers Steve a comforting smile. "Let us protect you for once."

Steve can see the fear in her eyes, but he doesn't say anything. He nods once and keeps pushing on through the never ending darkness.

They should all know by now that things never go the way they want.

They find Vecna easy enough, the dumb bastard is in the exact same place as last time and no one but Steve seems to think it's a trap. "It's too obvious!" He tells them, but no one is listening. No one ever listens to him in these situations. He can feel Vecna's ice-cold fingers prodding at the back of his mind as they creep through the house.

Instead of Vecna being on his own like they expected, there's something, or rather someone, crouched low to the ground at his feet; a guard dog ready to pounce.

A guard dog that has the same blood matted hair as the boy Steve spent weeks mourning, the same high cheekbones and soft, pouted lips. But it isn't him, it isn't Eddie. The thing at Vecna's feet snarls and reveals two rows of bloody, dagger like teeth and his usual kind, brown eyes are just,,, black. So black, Steve feels like he can see his own terrified face in them.

There's a split second where Steve thinks he's going to wake up. He's going to jolt awake in his bed and be pulled away from this nightmare.

But it never happens.

The last thing Steve hears is the guttural scream that emits from the creature that was once Eddie before he is sucked into Vecna's hold, his feet dangling above the ground as he's slowly lifted into the air.

This is it, he thinks. They came all this way just for him to die right in front of them.

Steve can't see what's going on around him and can barely hear anything over the sound of his younger self screaming. He's trapped in his own fucking head. Hands pat him down and dig around in his pockets for the walkman; the walkman he was supposed to grab out of the car.

He didn't grab it. He fucking left it on the front seat of the car.

Steve didn't even get to say goodbye.

"They don't need you anymore." Vecna's voice rattles through his head. "You're disposable." He's standing before Steve now. They're in his house, standing in the middle of the kitchen as younger Steve watches his parents leave for the millionth time. "Even your parents didn't want you."

He's right. They've been relying on him less and less. The only reason the party is even here is because there's a chance someone else, someone more important, could get caught in Vecna's trap if they don't stop him.

Steve's just collateral. A bump in the road to victory.

Steve stops fighting. He's done.

He takes in a deep breath and waits for the pain, waits for Vecna to finish him off, but the pain never comes. In fact, he can feel himself floating back to the ground, can feel hands grabbing at his arms and legs and pulling him down, down, down.

"Steve, can you hear me? Steve! Steve?" That voice... he never thought he'd hear that voice again. Maybe he was still in his head, maybe this was another sick joke from Vecna. "Hey, big boy, are you with me?"

"Eddie?" And when his vision comes back to him, he's really there. Eddie is cradling Steve in his arms, and if Steve isn't so relieved to see him, he'd be more worried about what happened to the monster he saw just moments ago. Well, he thought it was moments ago. "What happened? Is this real?"

Eddie smiles down at him; just a normal sharp teeth free smile. Steve sits up and reaches out to touch Eddie's face, the face he's seen in his dreams for weeks. The black, soulless eyes he'd stared into earlier are replaced with the kind, brown eyes he'd drowned in the first time they met.

But then he notices something else.

Eddie's skin is scar free. There's not a single scratch on him. There is no evidence he was ripped apart by the bats.

Something's wrong. He looks around, expecting to see Robin or Nancy, just anyone, but they're alone. Sensing his rising panic, Eddie reaches out and gently holds his face, a small, sad smile pulling at his lips.

"It's okay. It's over now, Steve. You can rest."

[cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme]

A Friendly Sparring Match-Seele X Reader

Full disclosure, this was just an excuse to write a fight scene

I think I'm going to try and clear out my Blazblue asks next

“Don’t worry, you three will be fine! It's just a friendly sparring match after all. I’m sure they won’t be too mean about it.” Seele muttered as she waved her hand and pushed you into the group’s field of view.

“Now, with that out of the way, I have an appointment to get to!” Seele lied as naturally as she breathed.

All this chaos with the Stellaron and the reconnection of Belobog, it was too much to keep up with.

If Natasha hadn’t reminded her about the date she would have completely forgotten something she had drilled into her head for the last 364 days.

The first year anniversary of you and her dating.

Sure, she may be tossing them into the fire, but they could fight off a giant robot, surely they’ll be able to stay on even ground with you for a while.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“I can’t find a way in!” Stelle exclaimed to herself in her head as she was pushed onto the back foot, holding up her lance to stop your fist from knocking her head clean off.

However, it did not stop her from being sent flying back and into a wall, creating a crater.

Before you could advance further on the trailblazer, a spear attempted to impale you from behind.

However, you sidestepped the strike and then, while Dan Heng was still in the process of regretting every decision he had ever made, sent the mother of all left hooks right into the side of his face, sending him flying away like a ragdoll and turning your back on Stelle in the process.

Doing her best to capitalize on Dan Heng’s misfortune, Stelle rushed forward, her lance ready to run you through.

However, the trailblazer underestimated what a fighter like you could do.

At the last possible second, you slipped past the attack, and stepped deep inside the range of the Trailblazer.

Your left foot was forward, your right was pulled back, your left hand closest to Stelle and your right hand held at your eye’s level.

In the blink of an eye, four lightning fast jabs shot out, all for landing on her chin and causing her entire body to go limp.

Unfortunately for Stelle, you were not done with this particular attack as you pulled your right hand back and to your waist.

Then, as Stelle fell, you launched the viscous uppercut.

It landed squarely on her chin, the force of it forcing her onto her feet as you jumped back and then rushed back in, sending another uppercut straight into her gut.

Needless to say, she was sent flying away.

However, to pick up her friend's slack, the arrows of March 7th began to rain down upon you.

You had two options at this moment.

Advance or Retreat.

Obviously, you chose to advance.

The ground shattered under your feet as you rushed forward, your fists held in front of you as you slipped and dodged and bobbed in between each arrow.

In an instant you were infront of March, your fist pulled back and ready to send her into next week.

Without hesitation, you threw your attack.

However, at the last second, Dan Heng’s spear knocked your strike out of the way, saving March from seeing the future.

Though, it did not save her from Dan Heng kicking her out of the way as he blocked the storm of bone shaking jabs with the haft of his spear.

Dan Heng’s hands grew number and number with every blow to his spear.

He needed to find a point to counterattack soon, otherwise he won’t be able to hold on to his weapon.

Ten more blows forced him to change his plan to simply getting away.

Three more forced his spear to fly away.

A single left stunned him.

A pair of heavy right hooks knocked his lights out.

And with that, only March was still standing.

“I… uh… couldn’t interest you in a seminar about our expert conductor and mascot Pom Pom could I?” March asked.

She was answered by waking up in Natasha’s clinic with the mother of all stomach aches.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“Wah! Why does everything hurt!?” March sobbed as she laid on the carpet, a cup or juice next to her.

“Hey, at least you only got a gut punch, I nearly got my jaw broken.” Stelle groaned as she laid next to March on her back.

A series of muffled and irritated grunts came from the wheelchair bound mummy that was known as Dan Heng.

As the group began to argue amongst themselves, the door was opened.

In the doorway, stood the architect of their suffering.

Seele.

Dan Heng attempted to stand up but was promptly reminded of why he was in the wheelchair.

Stelle, shot up, the pain that was shooting through her entire body nearly forcing her to collapse back onto the floor.

March merely continued to sob on the floor.

“Wow, you three look like you got caught in a cave in.” Seele declared as she crossed her arms.

“Screw you Seele.” Stelle Groaned as she leaned on the end of one of the beds.

Dan Heng let out a string of completely indecipherable words that could’ve only been profanity.

“What’s with all the hostility!?” Seele exclaimed in concern.

“A FRIENDLY SPARRING MATCH!!!” the trio exclaimed in pain.

[turboacek-blog]

If Kiba was the main character

Made two recent ish posts where I did Tenten if the main character which was basically just some upgrade ideas for her

And I made/plan to make one where I thought the Inuzuka Clan and Aburame clan should use summons instead of their dogs and insects

So this is the follow up of that

Summon idea

To pull from my other post:

Basically things from Kakashi’s ninja dog summons where being able to talk and use weapons and such would be a nice plus to Kiba having Akamaru as a partner as those pros are added

Werewolf form

I’ve toyed with this idea with fanfiction and such but basically the flip of the man beast transformation where they become the giant two later three headed dog like a Cerberus.

Kiba and Akamaru become a normal (maybe taller and bigger than average human) size man with a lot of the dog/wolf characteristics a la a werewolf (not just transforming into a wolf that I know some adaptations of werewolves do)

Where they have the enhanced strength speed reflexes etc, would likely have the fur and fangs and claws enhanced

And I can see this form having more Justus versatility like unlike the giant one this one could use clones so it’s a numbers vs size

This can have the classic wolf howl be a sound based Justu

Etc etc there’s plenty of things to pull from but I do think in the Naruto world being essentially the super human is a good bonus alone

And it’s an upgrade to existing beast man transformation where Kiba already gets more dog like traits

Burrowing fang

There was an idea of what would each other member of the Konoha 12 nature affinity would be since we learned Naruto’s was wind and Sasuke’s was lightning

And while we don’t know his affinity we saw practically everyone in the war used earth style for that earth wall tactic

Before when trying to think of which element would benefit each person the most, ie people think Tenten should have wind or lightning because of her weapons

For Kiba I chose with earth even before that war move

And earth was mainly because of the digging connection with dogs

So the idea is that Kiba and Akamaru fang over fang can also go underground that way it can not only have a surprise element but also be more powerful with the nature added and versatile as just going underground seems one of the more underrated Justus in Naruto as Naruto and Kakashi have proven its usefulness and Naruto wasn’t even using earth jutsu

Muscle

The weakest and weirdest one but I think out of all the characters outside of Lee and Guy Kiba should be the one I think in the most physical shape

Like he should be built like Shira from the chunin exam filler where he has the muscle and size advantage over someone like Lee

I only bring this up as he’s a Taijutsu specialist and if you don’t have the speed like Lee and Neji or the chakra enhanced strength like a Sakura or Choji or even the most skilled like Sasuke Naruto etc I think you need the muscle to balance it out

This should overall be an increase to other aspects like his tunneling fang hits a little harder

Akamaru

For the other half of the pair ‘Akamaru’ needs some upgrades too

More dogs

Something interesting background lore is that Kiba’s sister Hana Inuzuka has three dogs

And I don’t think we ever see her fight (maybe in filler but whatever) but I think just the idea that having more than one dog at a time can increase the combination possibilities as it’s his version of clones

Red form

It’s implied but make his red form be way more powerful as it seems more Akamaru just gets into battle mode vs it being an upgrade or power boost

Akamaru should be either really feral or fast or strong or something as it just treats it as an equal to Kiba who we already said isn’t the strongest character

Or make it special as Akamaru turning red is already special based on what we know so what if Akamaru red form had special trait like maybe it’s nature is fire so now all it’s attack has a fire element to it resulting in potentially burning the enemy

That’s all for now

Kiba and the Inuzuka clan are hard to think of upgrades for as the dogs while unique in the verse does pigeon hole them into only focusing on the dog techniques established in the beginning

And as Taijutsu specialists it’s weird to say oh they need to be as good as Lee and Neji in Taijutsu when that’s kind of the point for Lee and Neji

If any more ideas let me know :)

[gristlegrinder]

okay quick 2024 roundup of all of my new gw2 kids. including some people i've never posted about! yeehaw okay let's go

ZOOFAHSHOO

she/they | quaggan | herald

they’ve been an ongoing bit in some of my rps for a while but this is the year that zoof manifested fully in my brain! (zoof? my brain keeps wanting to shorten it to zooey, pronounced like “gooey,” and i have not decided if that’s too silly or if it’s cute). she’s a priory scholar who left their home village of kahloipoi to try and find a way to take care of the risen for good. from there, she becomes the noble pact commander and champion of aurene, taking up arms and leading the charge against the elder dragons. she quietly ignores everybody who demeans her station because of the novelty of what she is, and she bites her tongue whenever she wants to lash out at her enemies with the ferocity she knows she harbors within her.

when they get knocked out of the sky and crash land in cantha, an uninvited guest latches on while everything is dark. it’s an old “friend”— the demon deimos, crawling out of the shadows after being mercilessly slaughtered by her and her squad six years earlier. he’s only a mist reflection of himself, so he insists that he isn’t there to feed on their torment and misery. instead, he’s the worst enabler, finding the quaggan’s reluctance to embrace or even acknowledge all of the nasty impulses festering inside of them— a quaggan’s rage, her envy, her arrogance, her hungers— too fascinating to not spend his afterlife picking at. it’s an odd dynamic that serves as a constant source of uneasy temptation and bickering, but she has to admit that he has his merits, and that maybe he's right about some things.

this, as you can imagine, makes things interesting when she investigates strange camps in kryta and plunges headfirst into a rift, face-to-face with his estranged brother, his sister hissing in their ear, and a war about to start. there are some things that the astral ward doesn't need to know about their new wayfinder. and deimos can complain under his breath all he wants as long as they can keep their act together. i love her a lot.

OUR LADY SERRA

she/her | krytan human | tempest

serra ran away to the circus as a plucky kid with ideas bigger than her parents could manage. growing up with them, she specialized as an acrobat and aerialist, although her innate talent at magic definitely came in handy with more elaborate stunts. her troupe was her family, and her ringmaster ivy was like an older sister to her— she would follow them to the ends of the earth. and that’s what she did, when their ship crashed in the ring of fire on their way home to lion’s arch and they spent years stranded as castaways on the ember bay. afterwards (and perhaps after watching one of her family members get eaten by a giant sloth) she exited the high stakes of the circus business and left all of her grief behind with it, and now works independently as a burlesque performer in smaller venues.

i’m not entirely sure how deep her involvement was in the white mantle. i think it’s fair to say that ivy’s circus was probably funded by caudecus, at least originally, and i have a hard time believing they weren’t somehow involved in the white mantle when they were inexplicably in the heart of maguuma at the same time as the events of heart of thorns and everything going on in the forsaken thicket raid. but they also don’t mention their politics at all, and they seem unaware of the escalating tension back home and the imminent krytan civil war, probably because they would’ve shipwrecked and lost contact before xera was killed. do you ever just completely abandon your cult mission because you got distracted adopting a slubling and turning it into a circus attraction? surely there’s something going on there. she’s not happy about whatever it is. i definitely want to expand on whatever she's got going on next year, which should be fun.

anyways, why are carnival weapons so expensive? send help.

THOR (not pictured) + SIF 

he/him and she/her | norn | unknown + core necromancer

thor isn’t built in the game yet (my character slots…), but sif is! thor is the rhythm guitarist of THE BLOODBATH APOSTATES, a my chemical romance knockoff pop punk outfit that started in lion’s arch in the wake of its destruction. as the oldest of six or seven children, thor’s mother picked everybody up and left their father’s sons of svanir cult in the middle of the night when thor was a young adolescent. he’s got complicated feelings about that, in the way that you do when you know objectively as an adult that your father sucks and was not a good person to people who were not you, but you also can’t help yourself from hating what you lose in the process. he decided to channel that angst into making music with his best friend (a guy he met by getting into a drunken fistfight in a back alley) and the charr cub crashing on his couch. ultimately, thor’s a typical guitarist sleazebag who flirts with their fans a little bit too much and causes too much of a scene in public when he’s had a little bit too much of the good stuff, and arrogantly assumes they’re all the new rock gods of tyria.

sif is his wife, who is kind of miserable with the whole arrangement. she was cooler when they first started dating— a DIY show regular studying necromancy with all of the snarl of leopard, daring and bold despite a lifetime of insecurities. but she put her studies and her life on hold when she became pregnant, and agreed to support their new family if it meant he could carve out a legend for the three of them, and it wouldn’t change a thing. it ultimately wasn’t what she thought it would be, and she bears most of the heavy burden of childcare and managing a homestead (and being a creative consultant, and helping with budgeting and travel logistics) on her own while he tours, pretending she doesn’t know what he smells like when he comes home for a fleeting hour in the middle of the night, or what the gossip rags have been writing about him. she’s busy having an affair or two of her own and thinking about killing him before she runs out of time to get out of this lot. it's a bitter resentment festering.

guild wars 2 is a game about cycles repeating themselves.

IBUKI

they/he/she/it | tengu | profession undecided (probably a virt?)

imagine a world where we get playable tengu and i don’t have to fight with getting screenshots of an NPC with the closest character model. anyways, they’re my other 2024 character in me and saint’s bloodbath apostates project. ibuki is their keyboardist, and they also mess around with synthesizers and a lot of technical audio production.they’re classically trained in a lot of traditional instruments, and they’re figuring out the electronic parts as they go with some help from my thereminist oc they’re sleeping with. ibuki was born and raised into a prestigious family in the dominion of winds (possibly the Great House kalidris talks about), one that i’ve intentionally left vague while begging arenanet for a crumb of information. their life was largely predetermined and held up to intense scrutiny. they were engaged to a lovely respectable girl, they kept a respectable bureaucratic internship as they prepared for a serious career, they ran all of the minutiae of their life through their family for approval. it was a perfectly fine, gilded cage.

and then they were caught breaking the rules and sneaking around where they shouldn’t have. oh, the scandal! the impropriety! they won’t tell anybody what happened, but it involved other people with more power than them, and they were politely given the option to leave the dominion of winds without saying another word, before they caused more trouble than they were worth. exile was better than prison— or ruining the rest of their family’s lives. even though they were terrified of the world outside of those walls when they first crossed the threshold, they wouldn’t go back in a million years. ibuki’s fashioned themself into a rebellious art brat intent on shocking all good society (or a spun-out honors student finally learning about freedom), with a lot of bright-red eyeliner and a lot of nervous energy pacing around in the bathrooms backstage while thor repeatedly tells them to relax a little before it kills them.

MOURNING PEAT (in-game name that nasty bear)

he/him | kodan | harbinger

alright, technically i am still grinding convergences to get the bearkin combat tonic with more options, but this is what he looks like for now. peaty’s a lowland kodan who sincerely believes that rot grows inside of him. when he was a cub, he almost drowned in the bog while sticking his nose in places he shouldn’t have and wandering far too off the path. that’s a secret he’s been carrying with him for years— it, and all of the fossilized remains of white mantle victims that he still sees in his sleep— and it’s sort of bloomed into its own set of internalized neuroses. the bog queen isn’t just a legend; she’s real, and she’s claimed him as one of her own. he’s tainted, he’s rotten. that’s why he still feels her jubilant swarm crawling up his arms if he stands still for too long, and why he feels like such a fraud around all of the other bearkin, pretending he really belongs with them. that’s why he mostly keeps to himself, politely hanging back during celebrations and keeping to his charts until somebody needs a weather prediction. strange, but not bad, he is, they think.

(honestly, alessia couldn’t care less about some flea-ridden bear having a self-destructive fixation on her. she doesn’t even know he exists— having only been spurned awake in recent years due to the titan resurgence. this is all on him.) 

well, peat’s dumped six bodies in that mire so far over the last twenty years. the first was a frantic accident that he covered up. the last two were astral ward mages that he figured nobody would miss. it calms his nerves, and the rest of the details are between him and alessia, as far as he’s concerned, and they’ll die with him someday. i wanted a nasty bear for the bit, and so i made myself a nasty murder bear.

BLOODSTONE BUTCH (BB)

he/him probably | charr | renegade

i feel kind of bad about bb because i haven’t done much with him and he's definitely the least developed character on this list, but i am busy skittering around in the walls of various discord servers. technically he’s another musician oc (yes i have a lot of musician ocs do NOT say anything)— some other friends of mine started a band and so he’s the drummer in the bloodstone fems. bb was an olmakhan who left the village after coming of age to try and find himself, ended up making ends meet in amnoon for a bit while traveling around and experiencing the world, jumped in and out of a couple bands on tour, and eventually met his current group of unhinged freaks that he loves very much.

he’s also a revenant of sorts, having opened his mind up to bloodstone— a habitual indulgence (thanks, fems) that went wrong once, and now leaves him susceptible to the wails and memories of bloodstone ghosts, and other mists phenomena. i’m keeping this open-ended and subject to change, on the off-chance we get some really interesting mursaat lore in future JW updates, but i’m currently stuck between his main revenant echo being the seer doyen, sidony, or perhaps manikaz or one of the other mursaat we’ve gotten recent references to. (i’m leaning sidony because i already have a couple of characters with white mantle stuff going on in their backstories, and i think the seers are a fun enigma to play around with— but it kind of depends on what information we get!). either way, he’s vibing, and trying not to sink too deep in the sorrow that comes with centuries of horrible sacrifices singing in your brain. it’s honestly not that bad. some of us are dealing with deimos's theatrics.

anyways, yeah, i've been surprisingly productive this year LMAO ty for reading all this if you made it to the end <3