#i need to do something with the energy she gives off

[trashytracktales]

Love the Lando fic. I am soooo desperate for a really smutty Max fic. He’s been feeling down that he hasn’t been winning and his best friend jokes she’ll give him head if he wins the sprint in Austin. You can guess the rest. I really in some need for friends to lovers smut

So we ride | MV¹

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

none of my works are available for reposting on other platforms.

© trashy track tales, 2024

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Thank you so much for loving my previous work!! I hope you like this one as much 🤍����

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

𐙚 summary ──── She’s been there for him even before his career in F1 took off. And now that Max is struggling, there’s no other place she’d rather be than beside him.

𐙚 pairing ──── Max Verstappen x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── +18, smut, descriptive language & descriptive paragraphs (because I can't stop yapping), mature/sexual content, fingering, unprotected sex, friends to lovers, Filthy Mouth Max, swearing.

𐙚 word count ──── 4.4k

𐙚 date ──── Nov. 4, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── I swear I planned to make an absolute filth out of this one, but somehow, I low-key ended up giggling and kicking my feet by the end. Nice 👌🏻

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

THE DISTANT CHEERS still reverberate faintly from the paddock as she waits by herself in Max's room.

She has no idea why she's suddenly nervous. It's just Max. Her Max. Her best friend.

She's been in his driver's room countless of times before, but something has shifted. The energy is charged, somehow, with the weight of everything that’s changed between them over the past month. He’s been making more effort to be in her life, but even though she thinks he does it only because he needs a break from his hectic life, she's not complaining. Quite the opposite.

They’ve been talking day and night, sharing calls and endless text conversations. Every message, every call, and every laugh they’ve shared has pulled them closer, blurring the lines that they’d always kept so carefully intact.

Memories creep in like old songs she can't stop replaying in her head while she rests in the small space that smells like him — a delicious, subtle scent that lingers wherever he goes, a clean mix of sandalwood and a hint of leather from his racing gear, with just a trace of something so uniquely Max.

Without having the privilege to stop her mind, she lets it wander to the first time they met, long before Max secured his seat in Formula 1. Even though he was only a teenager at that time, he was ferocious and resilient, and anybody could see the determination behind his eyes, to the point it was almost impossible to turn and look away.

At least that's how she remembers him.

From that day on, she’d been there for every milestone. Every point earned, every setback, every win, every lose, every title, every new girlfriend, and every break-up. She never questioned him, even when others criticized his aggression on track and his obsessive desire to win. She was aware that he had a cause to fight for and a lot to prove. And she understood that in a way that Max had told her no one else did.

She knows him better than anyone. Maybe because they go so far back. Or because he trusted her enough be unapologetically himself around her. They had always had a tight bond and, at some point, they ended up giving in to temptation. They were each other’s first, and even though both of them were so bad at it, that moment still remains until this day a mix of curiosity and comfort that neither of them had found elsewhere.

But they were young and very much not in love, and they didn’t want to lose themselves in the process. It made more sense to stay friends, because when it comes to relationships, timing is everything. He was going to be away all the time, and she couldn't wait for him — not that he would have ever let her do that. Max Verstappen is selfish in every aspect of the word, especially when it comes to the people he cares about, and she has always been his soft spot.

Being far too deep in thought, she barely hears the door open, flinching slightly as Max storms in, a tight smile plastered on his face.

“You’re here?” he asks in surprise, the second he sees her laying on the two-seater couch.

The first thing he notices is a papaya orange cap, and a Red Bull jersey that she stole from him two seasons ago, neatly tucked into her black skirt.

“Well, you won,” she shrugs, articulating her words, thoughtfully. “That was a cute drive.”

Max laughs, tracing a hand through his messy hair, “Cute?” he asks, raising an eyebrow in her direction.

“And simply lovely, congrats!” she giggles at the use of his catchphrase.

His skin is glistening with a mix of sweat and that post-win adrenaline that's still in his system. Even though it was just a sprint race, a win is a win. She can tell he’s tired, but he’s more alive now than she’s seen him in weeks. The second half of the season is not treating him well, and it has been hard for Max — though not impossible — to keep the cofidence up, given that the top step of the podium seems to get further and further away with each race week.

He even told her that he misses hearing the Dutch national anthem. Coming from Max, that means something.

It's frustrating, but he manages.

“Thanks,” says Max, leaning against the door as he unzips his suit, tying a knot with the sleeves around his waist.

She can’t help but take him in — his messy helmet hair that she always makes fun of, but secretly finds very, very attractive, the damp collar of his racing suit, the helmet marks imprinted on his rosy cheeks, and the muscles in his forearms flexing as he crosses his arms, still buzzing with energy.

“How’s Martin?” Max continues, the corner of his mouth lifting in a teasing smirk while he crosses the room to sit next to her.

The room itself it's pretty small — just the couch, a table with his water bottle and energy drink scattered on top, and a change of clothes resting on a shelf nearby. But despite its plainness, Max’s presence fills every inch of it.

“He had the nerve to shush me when I started singing your song after you crossed the finish line,” she admits.

Max laughs again, a deep, rich sound, making the walls seem to hum with it. He leans back, his arm draping over the back of the couch, close enough that she can feel the heat radiating from him. His scent is still there, more pronounced now that he's actually in the room and so close to her.

“You looked amazing out there,” the girl continues, turning to glare at Max, “Like you were fighting for more than just a win.”

“And you were in the wrong garage to see it. Isn’t that so sad?” he asks, his gaze softening as he studies her.

With a gentle touch, he takes her cap off and throws it across the room.

She gasps dramatically, pretending to be affected by his gesture, “That's bully behavior.”

“No, that's hideous and it ruins your pretty outfit.”

“Just say you're jealous, and I won't wear it again.”

“I'm jealous,” Max admits it in a heartbeat, making her breath catch.

There’s something raw in his expression, something he’s kept for himself for a long time. He reaches out, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from her face, the back of his fingers lingering against her cheek.

She bites her lower lip as she looks down at the tiny gap between them, trying to act like none of this is making her head spin, “Good to know. I'll come in full papaya gear at the next race.”

Max gives her a ‘don't push it’ glare, his hand sliding from her cheek to rest just a fraction of an inch away from hers. “I didn’t expect you to be here,” he murmurs, his voice rough with somethings she can’t quite decipher.

“I told you I'll come if you win.”

They both pretend to believe her insinuation, even though they know she always cares about Max, not just when he wins races. Which circles back to the conversation they've had last night, and the way she tried to motivate him; it's been on their minds constantly throughout the day. It was just a joke, sure. But still, Max took the podium, and unconsciously credits her with a small percentage of his performance today.

When their eyes meet again, the air is suddenly suffocating, as if the past is racing back between them. She has no idea who moves first and, somehow, Max's hand finds hers, warm and steady. It’s just a simple gesture — delicate, innocent, but somehow it feels like so much more. It anchores them in the present. It keeps them aware of each other.

“That's the thing, no? You’ve always been there for me,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “Even when I didn’t deserve it. And I want you to know that I never took you for granted. Not once.”

“Max…” she's not often at a loss for words, but when she hears his, it's hard for her to say anything else.

Every barrier they had both put up and every wall she had ever created around their friendship seems to be collapsing the moment Max starts caressing the soft skin of her hand with his thumb. There is an undeniable desire between them, and they are both aware of it. However, their bond is much more important than a passing feeling. Right? A feeling that forms like a warm ball in her stomach, and makes his heart pound even faster when he notices her breath intensifying.

“In my eyes, you always deserve it,” she assures him, deciding to intertwine her fingers with his.

“Is that so?” he challenges her.

She nods, “You deserve to have everything you want because I know how hard you work to—”

Max leans in, just slightly, his voice dropping to a murmur, “I wants us.”

Her heart races as she meets his eyes — a flawless ocean blue, in which she would gladly bathe. Or drown, even.

“I want you,” he continues, his free hand traveling to her bare thigh, squeezing it slightly, “I want to stop pretending like you’re not driving me fucking mad, and that I don’t care who you’re giving your attention to.”

For a moment, they both hold their breath, his forehead dropping against hers.

“Is it clear enough what I want?” asks Max, and she nods again. “No, baby. I need words,” he frowns against her skin, as if it pains him not to get her confirmation. The confirmation that he waited so long for, but didn't feel he had the right to ask for.

Until it was too much.

Until now.

“I hear you,” she finally replies. “But what if—”

“If, if, if,” he cutts her off. “I don’t give a fuck about imaginary scenarios anymore. If it's not what you want, tell me to stop, and I will.”

But she doesnt.

Instead, she spreads her thighs wider to make room for his hand to move forward — all the confirmation he needs. He grins instantly, closing his eyes for a split second, living the same feeling he gets when he's on the podium after a hard-won race, letting it all soak in.

Max’s hand is trailing further up her thigh, unable to help but keep the smirk on when he realizes that whatever they feel for each other, is mutual. He runs his finger lightly over the top of her lace panties, letting out a low sigh at the way her body responds to the slighlest touch. In return, she wraps her arms around Max's neck, looking at each other in anticipation. They know it right away — it’s like the fall of the Bastille, the moment before a revolution, when restraint gives way to a desire too powerful to ignore. They both know that after this, there’s no going back, no way to rebuild what’s been broken or control the outcome.

They know it’s not a calculated risk, and it can end so badly, but when Max leans in to kiss her — a kiss meant to suck every ounce of doubt out of her — the walls come crashing down. They melt into it, all the tension fading away. The hand between her thighs is now working her at the same pace as the kiss, soft whimpers cascading from her into Max’s mouth, making him lose it.

He almost can't believe this is really happening. But it’s as real as his win, and all he needs for tonight to get better is to bury his fingers in her cunt, preparing her for his cock, and pump her full of cum until none of them can take it anymore, just to make up for all the time they've lost while they were dancing around their insecurities.

Without any warnings, he drops to his knees between her legs as she lets her head rest on the back of the couch, her chest rising and falling with deep breaths.

Max decides to take it slow.

Even if he doesn't want to admit it, he is afraid that maybe this is just a momentary lapse, and he won't get to have her like this for who knows how long. Therefore, he needs to take his time, savoring everything she's willing to give him. Now.

He gently pushes the thin fabric of her panties to the side, running his index finger over her slik, getting coated in her wetness even before he's halfway up to her clit. His thumb starts to gently rub against her warmth in circular motions over her soft skin of her moud, automatically feeling the urge to look up at her as she clasps her hands against the edge of the couch, her knuckles turning white.

His mouth goes dry.

“God, do you always get this worked up?” asks Max with a husky voice, trying to ignore how annoyed he gets at the thought of her pussy dripping as a result of someone else's touch. “Has anyone ever made you this wet?”

She shakes her head, covering her mouth with her hand, but Max is way too focused on parting her folds with his fingers to register her whimpers and the way she's fighting to keep quiet — these rooms are not only narrow and practical, they also have extremely thin walls. Plus, her glossy, red clit is more captivating than any answer she'd give him.

The truth is, he doesn't even care, because his only goal now is to ruin her for whoever comes after him.

“So pretty,” he muses, pressing one digit inside, her pussy growing wetter as it tightens around his finger. Which encourages Max to add one more right away, gently scissoring them to stretch her out. “Fuck,” he exhales, as she pushes her hips into his hand.

“Max…” she drops her hand just as he's curling his fingers inside, touching her sweet spot repeatedly, pumping in and out with precision.

“Does that feel good, schatje?

“So. Good,” she whimpers, closing her eyes at the feeling.

Max’s fingers start moving faster, establishing an agonizing pace, his eyes watching her reactions intently, seeing her back arching.

“Look at you, fuck,” he swears, leaning in to graze his lips against her thigh, leaving tiny kisses in their wake while he keeps his eyes on her.

A few more pumps of his fingers are enough to feel her clench hard around him, and finally letting go. Her moans are echoing in Max's ears like a siren call, tempting, potentially dangerous, while his fingers help her riding out her orgasm. His free hand is gently caressing her side the entire time, his lips pressing harder into her thigh, which makes her moan again.

“Gotta be quiet, baby. I can’t fuck you in here if you can’t keep quiet. And you want me to, yes? You want your sweet cunt fucked until you cum around my cock?”

“Mhm... The mouth on you, Verstappen,” she pants as quietly as possible, while grabbing his shoulders to pull him on top of her.

He helps her getting rid of her panties altogether, while their lips meet again in an explosion of new emotions, each more and more intense. Max knows their options are limited since it's such a small space, and doesn't hesitate to pull her into his arms, flipping them around so now he's laying on the couch, while she straddles him. His hands are instantly landing on her waist, listening to her giggle at the sudden change of positions.

“Hi,” Max smiles at her, his face radiating with pure excitement.

“Hi,” the girl parrots, wrapping her arms around his neck, tenderly playing with her fingers in the hair at the back of his head.

“You good?”

“I’m great,” she says, returning the smile.

“I fucking want to, but we don't have to if you have the slighlest doubt,” Max reminds her. “I'll jerk off in the shower later.”

She presses the pads of her fingers on his swollen lips to shut him up. “I want to,” she assures him, “I'm just scared it'll ruin us.”

Max cups her chin in his hand, his eyes heavy with understanding and the desire to prove her wrong, “Not gonna happen.”

“How are you so sure?” she asks, swallowing hard.

“I'm not, but I'll give you head if—”

She bursts out laughing as soon as she realizes Max is quoting her, “You are absolutely outrageous.”

Max keeps his hold on her waist as she shifts around, a slightly nervous but excited breath leaving his chest while she gets comfortable on top of him. “Tell me what you want, schat.”

In response, her fingers start fumbling with the knot he tied around his waist earlier, tugging at his fireproof with an urgency she can barely contain. Once her hands are making contact with his bare chest, warm and firm, she's sliding the rest of his racing suit past his waist, until it pools around Max's hips. She feels the rush as he pushes the rest of it down his legs, sucking in a breath of air at the sight of him.

“Max, you…,” she swallows the lump that got stuck in her throat, raising her eyes to look at him, slightly worried; nothing could've prepared her for how big Max is. “I've never heard you bragging about your dick.”

He chuckles at her words, his eyes turning into two adorable crescents moons on his face.

He's changed a lot over the years, of course. Max was only 16 when they had sex for the first time. But seeing him under her like that it's just a reminder of how small she feels against him now. His big hands can encircle her waist if he wanted to, and his arms could easily break her if he held her too tightly.

She looks down and notices the stark contrast between them: his broad shoulders, his strength, and their heights.

With her body nearly dwarfed by his, she is overcome with trepidation as she questions whether they will even fit together. However, she notices that Max is already trying to ease her concerns without saying a word, as he lifts her chin and meets her eyes with a tenderness that releases all the tension.

“You can take it, baby,” he assures her, guiding himself towards her entrance.

She lowers herself on him, slowly, intently, so easily that her hot cunt is practically sliding along his length, forcing Max to swallow a moan at how her wetness spreads over him. He pushes his hips forward, impatient, watching his cock disappear between her thighs. It drives them both absolutely crazy.

The intensity, the intimacy and all the places they make contact would normally be way too much. But then, Max pulls his hips down, only to fuck back in, feeling her relaxing on top of him.

The fit is perfect.

Her body is finally full. Complete.

“God, look at you,” he almost chokes, palming her ass under the skirt to help her spread more around him. “You're so beautiful.”

She cries out a moan, feeling as if her body gets split in two in real time, in the best way possible. His cock is so big that she's pretty sure she can feel him between her lungs.

Max means to say something else, but his words get stuck in his throat as the air gets knocked out of his lungs. A gasp leaves his parted lips as she sinks down on him completely — finally — his arms immediately wrapping around her waist, holding onto his girl like she's his lifeline. His chest sparks with a goran as he looks at her, the blue in his eyes darkening at the feeling.

“So tight, baby, I can’t wait to fuck you,” says Max, his hands getting lost under her shirt, palming her breasts. “You feel so good already. Gonna make me cum so fast,” he adds in a breathless mess, his heart pounding in his chest at the feeling of her body against his.

It’s a consuming feeling, that leaves them both senseless.

Max starts to move slowly, guiding her up and down his cock, until they set a steady rhythm. They're an amalgam of moans and gasps, as his hands rest on her waist tighter than before, fucking in deeper with each thrust. The sounds they make and the way they hold each other brings them together in a new way. It's scary and exciting and far too risky, but none of that matters now.

All that matters is the way she holds onto him, mouth ajar as they look at each other. She uses him to anchor herself while she sinks deeper, again and again, until pleasure is all she knows.

“Oh… Max. Max, please,” she beggs, the sound of them connecting reverberating throughout the entire room.

At the sight of her flushed face and parted lips, Max’s jaw clenches, his eyes trailing down her body to where they’re joined, just to see how she takes him in with such ease. The image causes a low groan to leave his mouth, his fingers digging into the skin of her thighs. She takes him so well, to the point of getting his own thighs wet as her pussy drips with their combined pleasure.

“You feel so fucking good on me, love. So good for me, that’s it,” he moans softly, his eyes falling shut to allow him to feel her everywhere in his body.

“Max… I can’t… Please, it’s too much.”

His eyes snap open to look at her again. Hearing her on the edge of desperation and feeling her body starting to shake with pleasure on top of him, it’s enough for Max to take charge, even though he’s not the one on top. Without a thought, he moves his hands back on her waist, holding her still as he lifts up his hips to start moving from underneath.

“Hold on to me, baby. I got you.”

He manages to send her to a whole another realm as he intensifies the pace, while the sounds of their bodies slapping together animates the room.

“That’s it, fuuuck. Let me take care of you,” he's breathing hard between thrusts, feeling dizzy as his climax builds, the heat in his stomach burning hotter.

He’s consumed by her in the most satisfying way — she is all that he feels and sees, her body pliant over his, her sweet noises in his ear being the only thing he can focus on as he looks at her through his lashes.

Max’s name cascades from her mouth, over and over again, until she starts clenching around his length — he knows that she’s close, and he’s right there with her.

His breath sounds shaky when he speaks again, “Where do you want me, baby?”

She knows that it's not a good idea for him finish inside her, but the thought of Max owning her like that gives her goosebumbs all over her body.

“Inside,” she gasps, burying her fingers in his hair and leaning over for a messy kiss. “Want to feel you...”

“Yeah, you want me to fill your pretty pussy? That you kept from me for so long?” asks Max against her jaw, his voice coming out in a low, sultry moan, just as a few drops of sweat gather along his hairline.

He lets his head fall back with a low groan, fucking his cock deeper and making her see stars in the process.

“Oh, god! Max,” she gasps, her voice coming out almost like a warning.

He takes it as an invitation to fuck her harder, feeling her tensing, then becoming boneless on top of him as he rides her orgasm. Max follows closely, moaning loudly as his hips move slopply, spilling inside of her, rolling his eyes at the feeling of her body milking his release.

“So fucking good, schatje.”

She wants to agree with him, but her mind is far too foggy and all she can do is run her hand over his skin, which is slick with a thin layer of sweat. She cups his face in her small palm while her other hand rests on his neck, sealing their lips together in a much slower, tender kiss.

Their tongues meet in a slow dance, tasting each other, making Max smile under it. She presses her forehead on his, a content smile appearing on her face this time, both of them completely blissed out.

Max’s hands runs along her thighs, admiring the feel of her soft skin under his touch as he speaks in a low, husky voice that still sounds breathless, “How the hell are you real?”

“Don’t ask me anything for the next five business days.”

He chuckles softly, giving her one more kiss before helping her up so he can gently pull out of her. She gasps again at the emptiness he leaves behind, feeling Max’s cum mixed with her own release oozing out of her. He swallows dryly, forcing his hand to gather up the result of their pleasure and fuck his fingers back in her cunt a few times before she collapses on top of him.

Max softens under her, tracing his hand through the waves of her hair, and for a moment, he looks as though he might say something. Something that could change the entire trajectory of their friendship.

Friendship.

He puffs out a laugh at the word.

“What?” she asks, curiously raising her eyes to look at him.

He looks so incredibly beautiful as he breathes slowly, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. When it comes to Max, his beauty goes beyond his appearance; beneath the fierce, self-assured driver the outside world perceives, he displays now a softness and sensibility that only she has access to.

“You still owe me a blow job,” he murmurs, his breath warm against her skin.

A laugh escapes her, soft and giddy, but as she pulls back, the intensity in his gaze remains.

Oh, he’s serious.

“I’ll find you tomorrow, after the race,” she says, her voice soft, almost as if she’s making a promise.

“What if I don’t win?”

She laughs, “A podium also counts.”

For now, that’s enough for him.

thank you for reading!

reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

[its-avalon-08]

Could you write a story where the reader is an F1 reporter who gets along well with everyone? She’s a close friend, and everyone considers her like a “sister” (or maybe even more for some… I don’t know, let me be delulu here!) and when she gets pregnant, they all become super protective and take extra care of her. For example, if she’s struggling with the heat, they make sure she’s comfortable. Thank you!

golden child of the paddock (all drivers)

✦ pairing - all drivers x female!reader (platonic), carlos sainz x female!driver (non platonic)

✦ genre - protective drivers, romance

The first time Y/N stepped into the F1 paddock as a young, starry-eyed reporter, she felt a blend of excitement and nerves. She was new to the sport, young, and a little out of her depth, but she knew her passion for racing and her natural curiosity would be enough to keep her going. Still, when she looked around at the towering motorhomes, the thrumming of engines, and the throng of seasoned journalists, it was hard not to feel like she was in over her head.

"First day on the job?" a voice came from her side. She turned to see none other than Daniel Ricciardo, grinning with that trademark mischievous smile. He’d noticed her as she was nervously adjusting her press badge.

"Uh, yeah," she admitted, trying to sound more confident than she felt. "Guess it's pretty obvious."

Daniel laughed and gave her a friendly nudge. "You’ll be fine. Just stick around us drivers; we’re way more fun than those old journos anyway."

Just then, a few other drivers came over, drawn by the new face in the crowd. Lando Norris was quick to introduce himself, already full of playful questions.

"So, Y/N, are you here to keep an eye on me?" he teased, giving her a wink. "Because, let’s be honest, I’m the only interesting one on the grid."

"Right," Y/N said, unable to help the laugh that escaped. "I’ll try to keep my focus on you, Lando."

Max Verstappen raised an eyebrow with a smirk. "Good luck with that. But hey, if you ever want the real story, you know who to ask."

Y/N quickly felt herself relaxing as the drivers bantered with her, making her feel more at home. Soon, the entire paddock was buzzing with news of the young, friendly reporter. And the drivers? Well, they seemed determined to keep her close.

Over the next few weeks, Y/N found herself almost part of the F1 family. She’d interview the drivers in the press pen, and somehow, every single one of them found a way to add a bit of personal advice or a subtle check-in.

"Did you eat today?" Lewis Hamilton asked her once, holding out an extra protein bar during a post-practice interview.

"Oh, I… yeah, I grabbed something earlier," she stammered, a little caught off guard.

He nodded, handing her the bar anyway. "You’re going to need the energy. Trust me. This job doesn’t slow down."

Even Sebastian Vettel would occasionally pause to check in on her. Once, he found her frowning at her notes during a practice session. "Don’t worry too much about getting every detail perfect, Y/N," he said kindly. "You’re doing great. Just be yourself—that’s what people connect with."

"Thanks, Seb," she said, feeling a bit of relief wash over her. "I guess I’m just… I don’t want to mess up."

Seb gave her a reassuring smile. "You won’t. Just remember, we’re all here to help if you need it."

Then, there was Carlos Sainz. Unlike the others, his way of protecting her was a bit more… personal. The first time she interviewed him, he was warm and polite, but as the weeks passed, his demeanor shifted ever so slightly. He’d always look at her with this glint in his eye, his smile lingering a second longer than necessary.

"Amor," he greeted her one morning, his Spanish accent adding a warmth to the word that made her cheeks heat up. "You’re looking stressed. Are they working you too hard?"

She blinked, feeling a little flustered. "Carlos, I’m fine, really. Just part of the job."

Carlos tilted his head, giving her a small, teasing smile. "Maybe. But if you need a break, you let me know, sí? Can’t have you running around too much."

The way he looked at her, the gentle tone of his voice, and the pet names—amor, cariño—all of it made her feel a little thrill each time they spoke.

As the season continued, it became clear to everyone in the paddock that Y/N was something special. Not just another reporter but someone who cared about them, respected them, and brought a certain brightness with her wherever she went. And as they got closer, the drivers each took on their own version of ‘big brother’ with her.

One afternoon, she was struggling with some heavy equipment when Pierre Gasly spotted her and practically sprinted over.

"Whoa, whoa, no way, Y/N. We’re not doing this," he said, taking the bag off her shoulder. "You’re not carrying anything if we’re around, okay?"

"Pierre, I can handle it, seriously," she tried to argue, but Pierre just shook his head.

"Not happening. You’re stuck with all of us now, so get used to it."

She had barely gotten over Pierre’s chivalrous intervention when she felt someone tap her shoulder. Turning around, she found Charles Leclerc standing with a concerned frown.

"Y/N, I saw you trip on the stairs earlier. You didn’t hurt yourself, right?"

She laughed, brushing it off. "I’m fine, Charles. Just a little stumble."

He crossed his arms, clearly not convinced. "Alright, well, just… watch your step, okay?"

Everywhere she went, there seemed to be a driver looking out for her. They’d bring her water bottles when it was hot, extra snacks when she looked tired, and Carlos, of course, was always there to check on her, calling her mi vida and making sure she never felt alone.

One evening, after a particularly long day, Carlos found her sitting on a low wall by the track, staring out over the circuit, lost in thought.

"Mind if I join you, cariño?" he asked, his voice soft.

"Not at all," she smiled as he sat beside her.

They sat in companionable silence for a while before Carlos spoke. "You know, everyone here thinks of you as a sister."

Y/N laughed. "Yeah, I’ve noticed. I can’t even carry my own things anymore!"

Carlos chuckled, his fingers brushing her arm. "It’s because we care about you. And some of us…" He paused, his gaze turning serious. "Some of us more than others."

Her heart skipped a beat as she looked at him. "Carlos…"

He gave her a shy smile, something rare for the usually confident driver. "I just want you to know, Y/N. You’re not alone here."

She nodded, a soft blush spreading across her cheeks. "I know. Thanks, Carlos."

Just then, Max passed by, smirking. "Hey, Carlos, not hogging Y/N, are we?"

Carlos shot him a look. "Can’t a man have a moment, Max?"

Max grinned, winking at Y/N. "Don’t worry, Y/N. If he’s bothering you, just let us know."

As Max walked off, Carlos rolled his eyes, but his hand found hers, squeezing gently. "They’ll never leave you alone now, mi amor. Better get used to us all."

Y/N smiled, looking out over the track, feeling for the first time that she truly belonged. Surrounded by a family of drivers, each one ready to support, protect, and care for her, she knew this would be the beginning of something wonderful.

--

It was the last night of the race weekend, and the paddock was almost deserted. Only a few lights remained on, casting a soft glow over the empty garages and tents. Y/N lingered by the trackside, her heart racing in her chest. She had made up her mind—she couldn’t keep pretending she didn’t feel anything for Carlos. But she didn’t think she’d be standing here, ready to confess her feelings in such a big way.

"You got this, Y/N," Lando said, giving her a little nudge of encouragement. The rest of the drivers had banded together, helping her plot the perfect confession for the man who had her heart.

"But what if he… I don’t know, laughs?" Y/N wrung her hands nervously, feeling her cheeks flush. "What if he doesn’t feel the same way?"

"Then he’s an idiot," Pierre chimed in with a grin, his arm around her shoulder. "But trust me, he’s not that dumb. I mean, he calls you cariño every day. I’m pretty sure he’s already halfway in love with you."

Sebastian, who had come along to witness the moment, chuckled. "You’ve grown up so fast, Y/N. Look at you—confessing your feelings like a true professional."

"Just… be yourself," Charles added, giving her an encouraging smile. "Carlos would be lucky to have you."

"Really?" she whispered, looking at her friends with wide eyes. They all nodded emphatically, giving her the strength she needed to take the leap.

As she waited, Y/N glanced back at her team of ‘brothers,’ who were hiding in the shadows with poorly concealed excitement. George and Alex were practically bouncing on their toes, and even Max was grinning.

Finally, she saw Carlos walking towards her, his hair still a little messy from the day, his eyes bright despite the late hour. "Y/N?" he asked, his brows raised in surprise. "What’s going on?"

She took a deep breath, willing herself not to lose her nerve. "Carlos, there’s something I need to tell you. And, um… please just listen, okay? Don’t say anything until I’m finished."

Carlos’s smile softened as he nodded. "Of course, mi vida."

"Right, okay…" She took another breath, staring at the ground, feeling her heart pounding against her ribs. "So, ever since I started here, you’ve… you’ve been one of the best parts of my job. The way you tease me, how you’re always looking out for me, calling me all those sweet names…" She laughed, slightly embarrassed. "At first, I thought it was just you being nice. But then… I realized it’s more than that for me. I… I really like you, Carlos. A lot."

There was a soft gasp from somewhere behind her, probably Lando, but Y/N kept her eyes on Carlos, who looked utterly stunned.

"I just couldn’t go on pretending I didn’t feel this way," she continued, her voice trembling. "And if you don’t feel the same, that’s okay. I just… I needed you to know."

Carlos took a step closer, his gaze intense, and she could see a flicker of emotion in his eyes that made her heart swell. "Y/N," he murmured, reaching for her hands. "You have no idea how much I wanted to hear you say that. I was so sure… so sure you only saw me as a friend."

Her cheeks flushed a deep red. "Carlos, I’ve had the biggest crush on you for months. You call me cariño, amor—it’s impossible not to fall for you."

He laughed softly, pulling her closer. "Well, in that case, let me say it properly." His voice softened, his gaze never leaving hers. "Te quiero, Y/N. I want you, too."

A mix of squeals and cheers erupted from the shadows as the other drivers stepped out, clapping and wiping away mock tears.

"Finally!" Daniel shouted, throwing his hands up dramatically. "Our little Y/N is all grown up!"

George pretended to dab at his eyes. "I’m not crying… it’s just… allergies."

Pierre gave her an affectionate grin, giving Carlos a nod of approval. "You better take care of her, Sainz."

Carlos laughed, wrapping an arm around Y/N’s waist, pulling her into his side. "Don’t worry. I’ll treat her like the queen she deserves to be."

Max crossed his arms, his smile warm. "Good answer, mate. We’ve been waiting for this moment forever."

Y/N looked around at her friends, her cheeks sore from smiling. "Thank you, all of you. I couldn’t have done it without you."

Sebastian raised a pretend glass, grinning. "To Y/N and Carlos. And to all the big brothers who made this night possible."

Lando cleared his throat, looking almost sentimental as he pulled her into a quick hug. "We’re really happy for you, Y/N. But remember, if Carlos gives you any trouble, we’ll be right here."

Carlos chuckled, looking down at her with a playful smirk. "I think I have more to worry about than you do, cariño. With all these guys watching out for you, I’ll have to be on my best behavior."

"And that," Y/N said, squeezing his hand, "is exactly how I want it."

Surrounded by her friends—her family—she felt an overwhelming wave of happiness wash over her. As she looked up at Carlos, the rest of the world faded away, leaving only the warmth of his gaze and the knowledge that she was exactly where she belonged.

--

A few years down the road, Y/N had cemented her place as the paddock’s heart and soul. Fans adored her interviews, and the teams always lit up when she was around. Being married to Carlos only added to the love everyone felt for her, and for Carlos, it made him proud—and fiercely protective.

The first few months of her pregnancy, however, had been kept tightly under wraps. Only she and Carlos knew, and they were still basking in the news in secret. But now, as she tried to hide her growing morning sickness and Carlos’s over-attentive concern, things were getting harder to keep quiet.

One morning in the paddock, Max Verstappen happened to pass by and saw Y/N doubled over, looking pale as she sat on a crate outside the Red Bull garage.

"Hey, Y/N, you okay?" Max asked, concerned, immediately handing her his water bottle. "You don’t look too great."

Y/N tried to wave him off with a weak smile. "Oh, it’s nothing, Max, I just… I think it was something I ate."

"Something you ate?" he repeated, narrowing his eyes. "You’ve been saying that a lot lately."

"Just bad luck, I guess," she said, but the nausea hit her again, and she had to lean over to steady herself.

Max’s eyes widened, and his jaw dropped as he pieced it together. "No way. No way. Y/N—are you…"

Y/N’s face flushed, but she couldn’t deny it, her weak smile giving her away.

"Oh my god." Max’s mouth fell open as he processed it. "Carlos got you pregnant?!"

“Shh!” Y/N whispered, glancing around in a panic. "Max, keep it down! We’re not telling people yet!"

Max clapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes filling with tears. "Oh my god. Y/N, you’re pregnant." He blinked rapidly, his lips quivering as he tried to hold it together. "You’re gonna have a little Sainz?"

She bit her lip and nodded, smiling softly. “Yes. But you can’t tell anyone yet.”

Max was silent for a moment, his eyes shimmering. Then he let out a choked laugh and pulled her into a gentle hug, whispering, “I’m so happy for you. You’re gonna be the best mom, Y/N. I can already see it.”

Y/N laughed as he let her go, but not before he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “Stop crying, Max,” she teased. “You’re making me want to cry, too!”

“I can’t help it,” he sniffled, looking sheepish. “This is huge! And now I have to protect you and the baby?”

“You don’t have to,” she laughed, but Max was already shaking his head.

“No, no, you don’t understand. I’m not letting you lift a finger,” he said, his face suddenly serious. “And I’m making sure Carlos does the same. You’ll have every single driver looking out for you.”

Just then, Carlos approached, his brow furrowing as he saw Max wiping at his eyes. “Max, what’s going on?”

Max pointed a stern finger at Carlos. “You, Sainz, have one job. You better take care of her and the little one. Or else…”

Carlos raised his hands, amused but wary. “I am taking care of her, Verstappen. Trust me.”

“No, not enough!” Max argued, his voice almost panicked. “She was just sitting here, pale as a ghost, and you weren’t even around!”

Y/N stifled a laugh, but Carlos just smirked, nodding in understanding. “Alright, alright, I’ll keep an even closer eye on her. Promise.”

Max softened a bit, but he wasn’t letting up. “Good. Because if anything happens to Y/N or the baby, anything, you’re answering to me. And Lando, and Pierre, and basically every guy in this paddock who cares about her.”

“Max, I think Carlos knows what he’s doing,” Y/N said, a smile playing on her lips.

Max looked between them, then grinned, his face softening. “Fine, but I’m still watching you both.” He took a deep breath, then pulled her into another hug. “I’m so, so happy for you, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Max,” she whispered, hugging him back. “I think we’ll need you and the others looking out for us.”

Carlos wrapped an arm around her shoulder, giving Max a nod of gratitude. “Gracias, amigo. She’ll have all the protection she needs.”

“Good.” Max wiped his eyes one last time, giving them both a fierce nod. “Because we’re all family. And now… we’re growing.”

--

The Singapore Grand Prix was notorious for its blistering heat, and this year was no exception. The sweltering air clung to everyone, and for Y/N, who was visibly and heavily pregnant, it was nearly unbearable. But duty called, and the FIA insisted that she continue her scheduled interviews.

As she was setting up for another interview, the heat making her dizzy, she heard a familiar voice behind her. “Y/N, what are you doing here?” Lewis Hamilton approached her with a look of disbelief, glancing at her with concern. “You should be sitting in an air-conditioned room right now, not out here in this heat.”

“Lewis, it’s fine,” she said with a weak smile, though she was struggling. “It’s just a few interviews.”

Before he could respond, Max and Oscar joined them, both looking equally shocked.

“Are they out of their minds?” Max muttered, his face turning red with anger. “You shouldn’t be out here like this!”

“Seriously, Y/N,” Oscar added, frowning. “This isn’t safe. You’re not a machine.”

Y/N tried to brush them off, but she felt another wave of dizziness hit her. She steadied herself, but Charles had already noticed, his eyes narrowing. “That’s it,” he said firmly. “This is ridiculous. They can’t make you do this.”

“It’s okay, really—” she began, but the drivers were not having it.

Lewis crossed his arms, looking around with a sharp glare. “Who do we need to talk to? This isn’t happening, not today.”

As if on cue, a member of the FIA walked over, clipboard in hand. “Y/N, are we ready for the next interview?”

Max stepped in front of her before she could answer, his voice low and menacing. “She’s not doing any more interviews. Send someone else.”

The official frowned, clearly taken aback. “Excuse me? This is her job—”

“Yeah, and her job shouldn’t put her or her baby in danger,” Charles interjected angrily. “She’s done for the day.”

Oscar nodded in agreement. “Get someone else. This isn’t up for discussion.”

The FIA official looked bewildered, glancing at Y/N, but Lewis shot him a glare that would have stopped anyone in their tracks. “You have plenty of other reporters. Don’t make us get security involved.”

Seeing no way around it, the official nodded reluctantly. “Fine. She can go. But this will be reported.”

The drivers didn’t care; they were already surrounding Y/N protectively, guiding her towards the paddock lounge.

“Thank you, guys,” she murmured, touched by their concern. “But I can handle this, really—”

“No way,” Max cut her off, shaking his head. “Carlos would kill us if we let you stay out there in this heat.”

As they led her to the lounge, Carlos appeared, having just gotten word of what happened. His expression was a mix of relief and anger as he approached the group. “Qué demonios? Y/N, why didn’t you call me?”

Y/N shrugged, looking sheepish. “I didn’t want to bother you…”

Carlos looked ready to explode, turning to the FIA official who had followed them, probably to try and salvage the situation. “You made her work out there, in this heat, while she’s pregnant? Are you insane?”

The official held up his hands defensively. “We were just following standard protocol—”

“To hell with your protocol!” Carlos shouted, his face flushed with anger. “She’s carrying our child, and you’re risking her health for some interviews?”

“Mr. Sainz, please calm down—”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Carlos snapped, switching to rapid Spanish that the official clearly didn’t understand, though the tone left no doubts about what he was saying. “This is unacceptable. Inaceptable!”

“Carlos, you’re going to get fined,” Lewis warned quietly, though he was smirking a little, clearly pleased to see someone giving the FIA a piece of their mind.

“Fine me, I don’t care,” Carlos shot back. “It’ll be worth every cent if it means they treat her properly.”

The official quickly left, muttering something about reporting this to higher-ups, but the drivers didn’t care. They were all clustered around Y/N, making sure she was comfortable as they brought her a cold towel and water.

As soon as she was settled in, Max crouched beside her, giving her a warm but firm look. “From now on, you call us if they try to make you do anything stupid again, alright?”

Y/N chuckled, touched by their fierce protectiveness. “I promise.”

Carlos sat beside her, still fuming, but his hand gently rested on her stomach, protective and calming. “If they pull anything like this again, they’ll have to deal with all of us,” he said, his tone softer but no less serious.

That night, news of Carlos’s outburst—and his subsequent fine—spread like wildfire across social media. Fans took to Twitter, trending hashtags like #ProtectY/N and #JusticeForY/N. Clips of the drivers banding together to protect her from the heat circulated, and the internet quickly turned it into a rallying cry against the FIA’s treatment of Y/N.

@F1Fanatic: "Carlos got fined for standing up for his pregnant wife, and I’m here for it. #ProtectY/N 💪🔥"

@PaddockPrincess: "Seeing all the drivers look out for Y/N is the purest thing ever. She deserves all the love 🥹❤️ #FamilyGoals #ProtectY/N"

@F1Daily: "We all knew Carlos was protective, but the way he went off on the FIA? ICONIC. #JusticeForY/N"

Y/N couldn’t help but smile as she scrolled through the support from fans, all of whom felt like an extended family. With Carlos by her side, and a whole paddock of brothers watching over her, she knew she and her baby would be safe, no matter what.

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green : Part 23

The cheerful bell rang a familiar chime as Damian opened the door to his favorite animal shelter. The scent of fur, pet food, and antiseptic was as comforting as it was potent. Damian watched Danny closely out of the corner of his eye. The other boy’s nose wrinkled, but he looked around the front room curiously.

“Damian! I wasn’t expecting you today,” Ms. Lacey said as she popped out of the back room, summoned by the chime.

‘Ms. Lacey’ was their compromise. Damian had refused to simply refer to the woman by her first name and in turn, Ms. Lacey refused to give Damian her last name. It had been supremely frustrating. Now it was almost akin to game or inside joke between them. It was nice.

She brushed the riot of curls (blue this month) out of her face and looked at the group that had entered the shelter curiously.

Damian knew they were a bit of a sight. Danny was still swathed in a number of bandages and, now out of the apartment, looked a moment away from running. Because of that, Jason basically loomed over Danny and Damian as if he could keep the world at bay.

(He might just be able to manage to.)

“No. It is not one of my normal service days, however, I am not here to volunteer,” Damian said, his tone almost apologetic. “I have brought Daniel—”

“Danny.”

“—to see if there is a pet that would suit him.”

“Hi, Danny,” Ms. Lacey said and leaned forward onto the counter.

Danny shied back into Jason’s space. He clutched a little tighter at the backpack that his bear was safely stashed in. Cass had thought it might be good for Danny to be able to take the bear discreetly with him as he seemed rather attached to it. Considering the tracker in the bear, everyone quickly helped make that happen.

“Hi Lacey,” Danny replied softly.

Ms. Lacey leaned back, her smiled now twinged with just a little bit of sadness. Damian had seen her look abused animals the same way. ��Do you know what type of animal you might be interested in, Danny?”

“I was thinking a cat or dog?” The words were more a question than a statement. “Someone that can sit with me.”

“That’s a good start. That could also be rabbits, but if they’re going to be living at the manor,” Ms. Lacey glanced briefly at Damian for a confirming nod, “then a rabbit might not work the best. A cat has the advantage that it would be indoors and doesn’t need as much effort depending on the animal’s age. But you might want a dog to walk! Why don’t we get you into the kitten room to start, because that’s a great time no matter what.”

When Danny glanced from Ms. Lacey to Damian to Todd, Todd gave a little nod. Danny tightened the hold on his backpack, took a breath, and gave a little nod.

-

“Okay, this is pretty great,” Danny said as he pried a tiny orange and white ball of fluff off his shoulder and set the little guy back down with his siblings.

Immediately the kitten was pounced by the black kitten and had his ears chewed on.

“Kittens might be too much energy for me though,” Danny admitted. He had a feeling he’d never have the type of energy he used to again. He wasn’t sure if that was from his death or… everything else.

“They are a great deal of work,” Damian agreed. His own lap was full of peacefully sleeping kittens.

Danny was a little jealous. He caught the grey kitten who looked more like a a dust bunny as it romped past.

“What if I don’t find a pet today?”

“Then we will go somewhere else. This is not the only shelter in the city,” Damian said.

The straightforward certainty that Damian had about the world was something Danny had come to appreciate over the last several days of knowing Damian. The fear was still there. Danny didn’t know if it would ever go away, but he could ignore it now. Sometimes it was hardly even background noise.

Danny was used to having a brain full of static.

“It will be fine, Brother,” Damian said when Danny didn’t respond.

Brother. Damian insisted on using that instead of his name, but Danny figure that was because Damian didn’t have a last name to call him like all the others. Bruce was simply ‘Father’ too. Maybe it was about Wayne then? But Danny wasn’t Daniel Wayne. He was just Danny… no one.

“Yeah,” Danny made himself respond so that Damian didn’t get worried. For all that Damian tried to be aloof he really was worse than even Dick.

“If a kitten would be too much, what do you think of an adult cat?”

Danny looked down at the little slip of a kitten in his hands. It was so tiny. “I think let’s start with dogs. Something not so small and… breakable.”

Damian nodded and started to divest himself of cats. “I have heard the vets ‘joke’ that kittens will heal from anything. One could toss a kitten and its missing foot in a cage and it would reattach. I suggest we do not try it.”

“No,” Danny said in horror. “We are very much not trying that, what the hell.”

“What is what I said.” Despite having to deal with many more kittens, Damian was up first and offering Danny his hand. “Come, Brother.”

Danny took the hand, stood, and still had one last kitten to pull off of of his jeans where it clung with this sharp, sharp claws.

---

AN: I was able to give this a read through finally, so have the first bit of this chapter! Because who doesn't want Danny and Damian surrounded by adorable kittens?

[dollarbils]

focused | j.o.

jenna ortega x fem!reader

context. your girlfriend’s been busy all day. all you’re craving is for her focus to be on you.

warnings. angst, smut, degrading words.

masterlist

she’d been glued to her laptop all day. consumed in this new script she’d received. of course you were excited for her, you’d seen the way her face lit up. but she’d been at it for hours, days.

“jenna, when are you going to give yourself a break, how long is this script?” she wasn’t fully listening, still engrossed by the letters on the white screen.

“hm?” she barely looked over at you, registering thad you’d said something, but nothing more.

“jenna please. i feel like i haven’t seen you in days even though we live together.” she seemed to have had picked up on your tone because this time she turned around, facing you.

“sorry, what did you say?” she asked you to repeat yourself for the second time.

“i miss you, love. it’s been ages since we’ve talked or spent time together.” she furrowed her brows in confusion.

“what do you mean? we see each other all day.” she chuckled, not taking the conversation seriously.

“i’m serious jenna, you’ve been glued to that screen for the past two days, i’ve barely heard your voice. it’s been keeping you up at night too.” instead of self reflecting, she went on the defensive immediately.

“that’s not true. i just really need to get this script looked over. i was told i could comment on anything id like to possibly get changed. do you understand how rare it is for an actor to get that opportunity?” she got up from the desk chair, waving her hands around as she yelled.

“no, of course i do. but that doesn’t mean you can’t at least take a break.” she rolled her eyes.

“i have taken breaks, it’s not my problem you’re so needy all the time.” the insult was misplaced and you felt embarrassed.

“i’m needy? jenna i haven’t had a conversation that’s lasted more than a minute in the last 48 hours. wanting more than that is not needy.” you couldn’t shake the feeling that had settled in, the fact that maybe you were too needy.

“oh my god, you’re so dramatic. just wait for me to finish and then i’m all yours.” her tone was condescending, and you soon found it ridiculous that you were fighting over this.

“it’s not only about me, you need a break too.” she didn’t seem to care.

“just give me five minutes.” you knew five minutes would turn into five hours but it didn’t matter anymore. and once five minutes had passed, you closed your eyes and drifted to sleep, no longer having the energy to fight her.

-

after some time, she came through the door, to find you sleeping. it’s not as if she’d wanted to upset you, but this script was really exciting to her. she hadn’t meant to ignore you.

“baby,” she shook you awake, not wanting to go to sleep without fixing this.

“jenna, i’m not in the mood.” she was slightly taken aback by your cold words.

“i’m sorry, sweetheart.” she sat upright on the bed, caressing your arm gently, coaxing you into forgiveness.

“please.” she repeated, and even without elaboration it was clear what she was asking for.

“okay.” you folded as the soft words left your lips. you pushed the covers back and let her take you in her arms. she kissed your forehead earning a sigh, as you relaxed in her warm embrace.

“what can i do to make it better?” she asked with genuine concern, however your response was a mischievous grin. she raised her eyebrows as she questioned the look you were giving her.

“i could use some head.” she laughed at your reply and kissing your smiling lips.

“i can arrange that.” she whispered in your ear, her hands burning the skin at your waist.

“my poor angel’s touch starved. tell me what you need, baby.” her voice was sick with power. she loved having you so desperately begging for her. although she did feel bad.

“fuck, jenna. i just need you to t-touch me.” her smile widened and she fumbled with your shorts, not planning on wasting any time with you.

“mm, can’t get off on your own huh? need my help.” she urged you to reply and when you didn’t she pulled your chin in order to face her.

“y-yeah, need you to help m-me.” her fingertips were brushing against your clothed clit, causing your words to break up in a stutter. she enjoyed how desperate you sounded beneath her touch, her words rendering you more and more flustered.

“so pathetic aren’t you.” her words were harsh because she knew it turned you on. you were nodding without realising what you were agreeing to, too focused on the filthy words leaving her mouth to ponder on their meaning. she chuckled into your neck, her warm tongue soothing the bruises she’d created.

“jen-jenna, please.” her hands pulled down your panties before she began to play with your wetness, spreading it around and earning choked whines from your throat.

“hm, who are you so wet for baby?” she teased but you didn’t have the strength to reply as she lowered her head between your thighs. her tongue laid flat against your clit, tasting your arousal while her fingers toyed with your entrance.

“f-fuck.” instinctively, your thighs shut around her head, making her hiss.

“open wide for me.” she instructed, looking up to see you fisting the sheets with your head thrown back. however when you had relaxed, you’d managed to comply with her request.

“that’s it.” she affirmed, her mouth latching onto your heat once again. you were soon returned to your previous state, your mouth an exit for all sorts of pornographic noises. you physically couldn’t keep quiet. and when you began grinding against her tongue, she groaned into you, the pleasure of devouring you finally expressed.

“oh my god, jenna please- please keep going.” she smirked into your pussy, flicking her tongue over your clit, and darting it in and out of your entrance. it felt so good. she was too good.

“fuck, jenna. so close, can i-i.” your eyes were shut as the pleasure built up, so close to your release.

“mhm.” she nodded, her face still buried in your arousal, bringing you to the edge and helping you ride it out once that chord has snapped. you felt yourself grow warm as the pleasure consumed you, clenching around her tongue. she came up to kiss you, her tongue sure to penetrate your lips so that you could taste yourself.

“am i forgiven?” she smiled and you couldn’t help shoving her playfully at the look she was giving you.

“yeah, i’d say so.”

[the-winter-spider]

Invisible | Part Four

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Angst

A tense silence hung in the air after your exit. Steve shot Bucky a sharp look, muttering under his breath, “What the hell, man?”

Bucky shifted uncomfortably, trying to play it off with a shrug. “I was just joking around,” he muttered, a defensive edge creeping into his voice as he took another swig of his drink.

“Joking?” Natasha’s voice was laced with disbelief as she glared at him, not letting it slide. “That wasn’t joking; that was cruel.” She pushed at his shoulder, forcing him to scoot over as she slid out of the booth, clearly fed up with him. Without another word, she walked off in your direction, leaving Bucky with a mixture of confusion and something that almost looked like regret.

Kate looked at him, her brows furrowing. “What was that about?” she asked gently, her hand resting on his arm, her gaze both puzzled and a little disappointed.

Bucky opened his mouth, as if trying to explain, but nothing came out. He just watched Natasha head toward the bathroom, a strange knot forming in his stomach as he began to process what he’d said—and how it landed, but he couldn't have meant it like that right? It was you, why would he intentionally try to hurt you?

“Not tool Buck, not cool” Sam shook his head in disapproval.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, you were struggling to keep it together. The tears you’d been fighting so hard to hold back finally slipped free, and you swiped at them quickly, determined to regain your composure. But the hurt lingered, twisting deeper the longer you replayed his words in your head.

The door creaked open, and Natasha stepped in, immediately spotting you by the sink. Her expression softened as she approached, her eyes filled with concern. She didn’t waste any time, wrapping an arm around your shoulders in a reassuring squeeze.

“He was completely out of line,” she said, her voice warm and comforting. “You didn’t deserve that.”

You shook your head, giving a shaky laugh that sounded more like a sob. “I don’t get it, Nat,” you whispered, the words tumbling out as you fought to keep your voice steady. “I don’t get him. Why would he say something like that?”

Natasha rubbed your shoulder, giving you a small, knowing smile. “Because he’s a stupid boy who doesn’t realize what’s right in front of him,” she said, her voice firm and confident. “And sometimes, people say things to hurt the ones they care about without even realizing why.”

You looked at her, a glimmer of hope trying to break through the sadness. “Do you think… he even cares?”

Natasha tilted her head, considering her words carefully. “I think he cares a lot more than he wants to admit. But you can’t wait around for him to get his act together, babe. You deserve someone who’ll see you for who you are without needing a wake-up call.”

Natasha’s hand gripped your shoulder gently, grounding you as she leaned against the bathroom counter. “Screw him,” she muttered, her tone fierce with loyalty. “He doesn’t deserve you. You’re gonna love Dean.” With a mischievous smile, she pulled out her phone, tapping through her photos until she landed on one. She tilted it toward you, her grin widening.

“Here he is,” she said, showing you a picture of Dean. He had tousled dirty blonde hair, warm brown eyes, and a chiselled jawline that made him look straight out of a movie. The complete opposite of Bucky in every way, his gaze was soft but captivating. “Isn’t he gorgeous?”

You managed a smile, though your heart still aches. “Yeah… he’s cute.”

Natasha let out a playful scoff, giving you a nudge. “Cute? Babe, he’s more than just cute. Look at that face!”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes as she nudged you again, her energy contagious. “Alright, alright, he’s definitely hot.”

“That’s more like it.” She wiped away a stray tear that had escaped down your cheek, her thumb soft and gentle.

A hesitant smile broke through your sadness “So… next Saturday, huh?”

“Next Saturday.” Natasha squeezed your hand, her eyes warm and encouraging. “You ready to get back out there?”

You paused, taking a shaky breath. “Not really,” you admitted. “I think… I think I’m just gonna head home for the night.”

She studied you for a moment, concern flickering in her eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you replied softly, glancing down. “I just… I just wanna be back home.”

Natasha’s expression softened, and she reached out, pulling you into a tight hug. “I wish you’d stay,” she murmured, her voice low and full of understanding. “But I get it.”

You wrapped your arms around her, grateful for her support. “Thanks, Nat. For everything… tell them goodbye for me?”

“Anytime,” she whispered, squeezing you one last time before she pulled back, her hand resting on your shoulder. She gave you a reassuring smile, and you felt a little bit of your resolve strengthen.

As she turned and headed back toward the table, you took a deep breath, straightening yourself. With your gaze fixed firmly ahead, you walked towards the exit, grateful that it was on the opposite side of the bar from their booth. You didn’t look back. The noise of the bar faded behind you, and as you stepped out into the quiet night, a weight lifted ever so slightly from your chest. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

The cool night air hit you as you stepped outside, bringing a little clarity and calm to the storm swirling inside. You wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling the ache still lodged in your chest but grateful to be away from the buzz of the bar, from Bucky’s laugh blending with Kate’s. You’d held your own in there, but now, in the stillness, the reality settled heavier on your heart.

You’d been holding onto the hope for so long, convincing yourself that maybe, one day, Bucky would finally see you as more than his best friend, his roommate. But tonight had shattered that illusion in a way you couldn’t ignore. The way he’d looked at Kate — so open, so warm — that had been all you’d ever wanted from him. And watching him give it so freely to her…

You took a deep breath, letting it go, but it came out shakier than you’d hoped. Standing on the edge of the sidewalk, you let yourself feel the sting fully, knowing it was time to start letting go. Natasha was right. Maybe Dean could be a fresh start, a way to move forward. You thought back to that photo on her phone and found yourself smiling, just a little.

---------

Natasha came back to the table, her gaze steely, but before she could say anything, she looked around, noticing Kate’s absence. “Where’d Kate go?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Wanda answered for Bucky, who was still staring down at his drink, sulking. “She had to take a work call,” Wanda said, glancing between Natasha and Bucky with a bit of a frown.

Natasha nodded, then took her seat, her expression hardening as her eyes locked onto Bucky.

Natasha slid back into the booth, her expression colder than Bucky had ever seen. Steve’s gaze snapped to her immediately. “Where’s Y/N?” he asked, voice edged with concern.

“She left,” Natasha replied, a clipped edge to her words. She barely spared Bucky a glance, instead meeting Steve’s gaze, giving him a silent nod.

Steve’s face dropped. “Without saying goodbye?” His question was softer this time, almost to himself, as he began to slide out of the booth. He tossed a quick look to Natasha, who shifted over to take his spot, freeing him up to stand.

Steve grabbed his coat from the back of the chair, and Sam raised an eyebrow. “Where are you going, man?”

“I’ll be right back,” Steve said shortly, already turning toward the exit, his footsteps determined as he headed for the door. He didn’t spare Bucky a second glance.

The silence left behind was tense. Natasha fixed her gaze on Bucky from across the table, her expression steely, almost disappointed. “I hope you’re happy with yourself,” she said, her voice quiet but cutting.

Bucky finally looked up, his jaw clenched, and he let out a rough sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Why the hell would I be happy with myself after that?” His voice was low, frustration simmering beneath the words. He avoided her gaze, instead staring down at his half-empty glass.

Natasha crossed her arms, her stare unyielding. “I believe you know exactly what you’re doing, Bucky. And you know it hurts her.”

His head shot up, his eyes flashing, scoffing “What exactly am I doing Nat? What do you think I should do? Just pretend none of this bothers me?”

Natasha held his gaze, not backing down an inch. “No, Bucky, I think you need to decide what you actually want. Because this back-and-forth, hot-and-cold thing you’re doing? It’s cruel. You can’t keep lashing out at her just because you’re confused or jealous or whatever it is.”

Bucky clenched his fists, his frustration spilling over. “You think I want to hurt her? I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I just…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening as he struggled to find the right words. “I just didn’t expect her to… to….I dont know” His lip wobbled, eyes blurring before he chugged back the rest of his whiskey

Natasha’s eyes softened, but only slightly. “So that’s what this is about? You don’t want her, but you can’t stand the thought of her being with someone else?”

Bucky opened his mouth, then shut it, his expression twisted with frustration and something else—guilt, maybe, or regret. “I never said I didn’t want her,” he muttered, voice barely audible.

Natasha let out a sharp breath, her expression softening, though her disappointment was still clear. “Then maybe you should stop playing games and actually tell her how you feel. But don’t expect her to wait around forever while you figure it out, it's been years Barnes”

Bucky fell silent, his gaze drifting to the empty seat you’d left behind. He could still feel the sting of his own words, the hurt they’d caused you, lingering like a bruise.

“Look, Buck,” Natasha said, her tone gentler now, “you have a choice here. You can keep doing this—keep hurting her, and yourself—or you can take a risk and be honest. But you can’t keep stringing her along. It’s not fair.”

Bucky swallowed hard, staring down at the table. “I didn’t mean for it to go this way,” he admitted quietly. “I thought… I don’t know what I thought. I just didn’t expect it to hurt so much.”

Natasha’s expression softened further, her voice turning almost sympathetic. “Love is messy, Buck. But if you’re not willing to be vulnerable, you’re just going to keep hurting each other. Think about what you really want, before it’s too late.”

She let her words sink in, then glanced away, as if giving him a moment to process. Bucky stayed quiet, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass, his mind racing, torn between fear and hope, knowing he’d have to face the consequences of his choices—one way or another.

Bucky nodded, barely. He stared down at his glass, the noise of the bar fading into the background as Natasha’s words echoed in his mind.

-----

The sound of footsteps on gravel pulled you from your thoughts just outside the bar. You looked up, expecting maybe a stranger passing by, but instead, there was Steve, hands in his pockets, watching you with that familiar, steady gaze of his.

“I thought I’d find you out here,” he said, voice soft. “You didn’t say goodbye.”

You shrugged, forcing a small smile. “Didn’t feel like there was much to say.”

Steve took a step closer, his brows furrowing as he studied you, picking up on the hurt you’d tried so hard to hide. “Nat filled me in,” he said gently, taking off his coat to place it on your shoulders. “He really doesn’t know what he’s missing, you know.”

The words hit you harder than you’d expected, and you felt the corners of your mouth waver. “It’s fine. I think I needed to see it… to know, really.”

He sighed, a sympathetic look crossing his face. “Maybe. But you deserve better than the way he acted back there.”

You smiled, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Guess it’s time I started looking for it, then.”

Steve’s face softened, and he extended an arm, pulling you in for a warm, steady hug. You let yourself sink into the comfort he offered, his hand rubbing gentle circles on your back as he muttered, “Good for you.”

As you pulled back, you felt a little lighter, the hurt still there but somehow dulled by the kindness of a friend who truly saw you. “Thanks, Stevie…for always being here.”

He smiled, giving you a gentle nudge. “You’ll be alright. You’re stronger than you know, you want me to walk you home?”

You smiled, of course he would offer Steve always was and always will be a gentleman “No im okay, i can make it just down the street, plus i got the warmth now” You laughed gesturing to his coat he gave you.

You could see the internal battle in his eyes of actually letting you walk home by yourself, you reached out placing your hand on his shoulder “Ill be fine okay?”

He sighed “Just text me as soon as you get home okay?”

“Of course”

“And i know how long it takes for you to get home from here, so i expect a text in no less than 7 minutes, got it?” His voice was stern

You saluted him “Yes sir” You shared a quiet look before he slipped back into the bar, leaving you with one last, reassuring smile. Taking a deep breath, you turned and started toward home, the streetlights casting soft glows on the sidewalk as you walked.

Tonight had broken something in you, but as you left, a strange sense of hope started to take its place. Maybe you really could let go. And next Saturday, maybe you’d start seeing yourself through someone else’s eyes — not as someone’s best friend, but as someone worth more than waiting and wishing.

[chxrrywxvss]

Do I Look Like Him

“You look so much like him, and it’s almost cruel. I keep hoping that somehow, you’ll turn into the man I loved, but you never do. You’re just… you.."

A/N: First part of my Do I Look Like Him series. Sorry this is so rushed pookies but I swear the next part will be better

Logan Howlett x Afab!Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: none I think, maybe logan is OOC

NOT PROOFREAD.

Logan stepped through the door of Wade's apartment. The air inside was thick with the scent of stale pizza and something that might have once been a burrito.  He hesitated for a moment, the noise from the TV filling the silence—some superhero flick, loud and chaotic. The place was a mess, as expected, but it was oddly comforting.

He’d been through hell and back in his own universe, but this? This was something else entirely. The walls were plastered with posters of himself—no, not himself, but Wolverine. The absurdity of it made him grit his teeth. This wasn’t his world, and yet, here he was, dragged into a mess that wasn’t his to clean.

Wade had a knack for trouble, and Logan had been foolish enough to follow him into it. After their recent escapades—fighting off some half-baked villains and dealing with Wade’s incessant chatter—Logan felt the dull throb of a headache creeping in. He needed a drink. Or ten.

He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the tension knotting there. His world had turned upside down, and it had only been a few days since he found himself in this bizarre universe.

“Hey, peanut! You’re late!” Wade’s voice rang out, full of that irritating cheerfulness that grated on Logan’s nerves. Logan glanced up, catching sight of Wade lounging on the couch, a bowl of popcorn in his lap, his mask pulled up just enough to reveal that crooked grin.

“Didn’t realize I was on a schedule,” Logan muttered, his tone heavy with annoyance. He didn’t need this. Not now. Not after everything that had happened back home.

“Yeah, well, you missed the best part! They just killed off a major character!” Wade’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “You know how it goes—death, resurrection, all that jazz. Just like you!”

Logan rolled his eyes. “You’re not helping, Wade.”

“Aw, come on!” Wade jumped up, tossing the popcorn aside. “You’re in a new universe! Live a little! Have some fun! Get laid!” He winked, and Logan rolled his eyes at the thought.

Logan didn’t respond. Instead, he moved deeper into the cluttered apartment, scanning the area for something—anything—that would give him a moment of reprieve from Wade’s relentless energy. That’s when he noticed a photo frame atop a pile of comic books. A picture of a woman smiled back at him, hugging a man who looked like him, but more aged.

His heart sank.

“Who’s that?” Logan asked, trying to appear uninterested.

“Oh, that’s your girl! Well, sort of,” Wade replied, his tone shifting slightly. “She’s also my sister. Well, half.. Anyway, she’s amazing!”

Logan’s fists clenched at his sides. “What do you mean, my girl? I don’t—”

“Right! Sorry! I forgot! You’re from a different universe! It’s confusing, I know.” Wade smirked, clearly enjoying the chaos of it all. “But trust me, she’s the best. I mean, if you’re into that whole ‘living’ thing. You are, right?”

“Where is she?” Logan asked, keeping his voice steady.

“She’s around here somewhere. Probably avoiding you,” Wade chuckled, but there was a hint of sincerity in his tone. “She’s been a bit… skittish since you showed up. Can’t blame her, though. You know how it is with family drama.”

Before he could respond, the sound of footsteps echoed from a hallway, and Logan’s breath caught in his throat. You appeared, your presence radiating an energy that was both familiar and foreign.

“Wade, I—” you began, your voice faltering as your eyes landed on Logan..

“Look who I found! It’s Logan!” Wade announced, clearly oblivious to the charged atmosphere that had enveloped the room.

Your expression shifted, confusion and recognition battling for dominance. “No, that- that isn’t him. That’s not Logan.” You said, your voice trembling slightly as hot tears began to well in your eyes at the sight of this stranger wearing Logan’s face.

“Well, technically-” Wade began to explain, but you stormed back down the hall, slamming the door to your room. After a moment of silence, “Well, that went well!” “Shut the hell up, Wade.” —-----------------------------------------------------

The days slipped by in a blur of muted colors and half-formed conversations. Logan found himself wandering the apartment, the walls echoing with the laughter and chaos of Wade’s universe. You avoid him like the plague, slipping through the apartment like a ghost. It was as if you had cast a spell of invisibility around yourself, one that Logan was helpless to penetrate.

Wade, ever the optimist, tried to coax you down for meals, suggesting movie nights, or even just a simple game of cards. But you never came down. Instead, you found excuses to stay away, disappearing into the city, leaving Logan alone with his thoughts. Each time you left, he felt the weight of her absence like a physical blow.

He tried to give you space, respecting your need to process everything, but it gnawed at him. The ache in his chest grew heavier with each passing day. He was a man used to fighting battles, but this was a different kind of warfare—one fought in silence and solitude. He doesn’t know why it bugs him so much. It shouldn’t. He doesn’t know you. It’s probably just sympathy. Right?

When you did venture down, it was always under the cover of darkness, as if you feared the light would expose your vulnerabilities. Logan would catch glimpses of you, a fleeting shadow slipping past the kitchen door, or the sound of your laughter echoing from somewhere beyond his reach. Each time, his heart would leap, only to plummet when you vanished again.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of fiery orange and deepening blue, you finally emerged. Logan had been sitting on the couch, his mind a chaotic swirl of thoughts, when he heard the soft creak of the floorboards. He looked up, his breath catching in his throat as he saw you standing in the doorway, a hesitant silhouette against the dim light of the hallway.

“Hey,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady despite the sudden rush of emotions.

“Hey,” you replied, your eyes darting away, avoiding his gaze. There was a tension in the air, thick and palpable, as if they were two strangers in a crowded room. Which, the first part isn’t entirely wrong.

Logan took a breath, willing himself to be patient. “I was thinking about ordering some food. Want to join?”

“I… I can’t,” you stammered, yout voice barely above a whisper. “I have plans.”

Disappointment washed over him, but he forced a nod. “Alright. Maybe another time?”

“Maybe,” you said, your eyes lingering on him for just a moment before you turned to leave.

“Wait,” he called out, desperation creeping into his voice. “Can we just talk for a minute? Please?”

You hesitated, your hand hovering over the door frame as if caught in a battle between flight and fight. Finally, you sighed and stepped back into the room, though your body language screamed of discomfort.

“What do you want to talk about?” you asked, folding your arms tightly across your chest.

Logan searched for the right words, the ones that could bridge the chasm between them. “I just… I don’t want you to feel like you have to avoid me. I know this is hard for you.”

“It’s not just hard,” you shot back, your voice rising with hurt. “It’s impossible. You look like him, you sound like him, but you’re not him!”

“I know I’m not,” Logan said, his tone earnest. “I’m not him and I never will be. You need to accept that he’s gone.”

You looked away, your expression twisting with pain. “I don’t know how to do that.”

“I understand. Just take it one step at a time.”

“Like you’re doing?” you asked, your voice laced with sarcasm.

Logan winced. “Touché. I’m just trying to be honest.”

The silence that followed felt heavy, a dense fog of unspoken words and unresolved emotions. He watched you, noting the way your fingers fidgeted, the way your eyes glistened as you fought against the tide of your feelings.

“Okay,” you said finally, your voice softer. “I’ll try.”

“Thank you,” he replied, relief flooding through him. “That’s all I can ask.”

But just as hope began to take root, you turned to leave again. “I really can’t stay, Logan. I have to go.”

“Wait!” he called out again, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “What are you doing out there? What’s out there that’s better than being here?”

You paused, your back to him, and for a moment, he thought you might turn around. “It’s not about what’s out there. It’s about what’s in here,” you said.

With that, you slipped out of the room, leaving Logan alone once more, a hollow ache gnawing at his insides.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Days turned into weeks, and the pattern continued. You would occasionally come down, but their conversations remained brief, filled with awkward silences and unfulfilled glances. Every time you spoke to him, it was a delicate dance—one misstep, and you would retreat again, leaving him with nothing but the echoes of your presence.

One afternoon, as the sun cast a warm glow through the apartment, you wandered into the kitchen while Logan was cleaning up after lunch. He caught sight of you out of the corner of his eye, and hope fluttered in his chest.

“Hey,” he said, looking up.

“Hey,” you replied, your voice soft but guarded. You moved to the fridge, rummaging through it as if searching for something to distract yourself.

“You want a sandwich?” he offered. “I made some earlier.”

“No, I’m fine,” you said too quickly, closing the fridge door with a soft thud.

Logan felt the familiar pang of disappointment. “You sure? It’s really good.”

“I believe you,” you responded, her tone clipped.

They fell into an uneasy silence, the air thick with words left unspoken. Logan watched her, the way you fidgeted with your hair, the way your gaze darted around the room, avoiding him.

“Do you ever think about him?” he asked suddenly, the question slipping from his lips before he could stop it.

Your body stiffened, and for a moment, he thought you might walk away again. Instead, you turned to face him, your eyes glistening with emotion. “All the time,”you admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“What do you remember?” Logan asked, leaning against the counter, trying to keep his voice casual. But inside, he felt like he was walking on a tightrope, balancing on the edge of your memories.

“Everything,” you replied, your eyes shimmering as if lost in a distant past. “The way he would hold me when I was scared. The stupid jokes he made to lighten the mood. The way he fought for me.”

Logan swallowed hard, the sting of your words cutting deep. “I’m not him,” he reminded her, his voice low.

“I know,” you said, frustration breaking through your sadness. “But it’s hard to separate the two of you. You’re so similar, and yet… you’re not.”

“I’m trying to be someone you can lean on,” he said, his heart aching with the weight of her pain. “But I can’t do that if you keep pushing me away.”

Your eyes flashed with anger. “You think you can just step in and fill that void? Be the one who makes everything better? It doesn’t work that way, Logan!”

“I’m not trying to replace him,” he countered, his voice rising in defense. “I just want to be here for you. Just give me a chance!”

You sighed, the fight draining from you. “I don’t know how. I don’t know if I can.”

“Then let’s start small,” Logan suggested, his tone softening. “Just talk to me. About anything. About your day. About anything but him.”

For a moment, your gaze dropped, and he could see the struggle within you. “Okay,” you finally said, your voice trembling slightly. “I can try that.”

“Good,” he replied, relief flooding through him once more. “What did you do today?”

You hesitated, then shrugged. “I walked around the city.”

“Did you find anything interesting?”

You looked away, a faint heat creeping into your cheeks. “I found a little café. It had the best pastries. I thought about bringing some back, but…”

“But?”

“It felt wrong,” you murmured, your voice barely a whisper. “Like I was trying to pretend everything was okay when it’s not.”

Logan’s heart ached for you. “You can still enjoy things. It doesn’t mean you’re forgetting him. It just means you’re living.” He said, more to himself than you.

“I don’t want to live without him,” you admitted, yourr voice breaking. “I don’t know how to do that.”

“Maybe we can figure it out together,” he offered, stepping closer, his heart racing. “I may not be him, but I’m still here. And I care about you.”

You met his gaze, and for a fleeting moment, he thought he saw a flicker of understanding in your eyes. “I care about you too,” you said softly, though doubt lingered in her tone.

As you turned to leave, Logan felt a glimmer of hope that they had taken a small step forward. But just as quickly, it faded when you absentmindedly kissed his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” you said, pulling away as if burned. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” he reassured you, though his heart sank at the distance that still lay between them. “You don’t have to apologize.”

But you shook your head, your expression filled with anguish. “No, it’s not okay. I shouldn’t have done that. I can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?” he pressed, confusion lacing his words.

“Trying to act like you’re someone you’re not,” you said, your voice rising again. “I’m sorry, Logan. I need to go.”

And with that, you were gone again, the door clicking shut behind you, leaving Logan standing alone in the kitchen, the echo of your footsteps lingering in the silence.

—-----------------------------------------------------

It was late, the hour when the world outside felt most distant, and in that stillness, you crept into the living room. The soft click of the door was nearly soundless, a careful intrusion into the quiet space. You paused for a moment, your heart racing as you took in the sight of him resting on the couch, his face softened in sleep, the lines of worry momentarily smoothed away.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you felt a pang of longing that twisted your insides. He looked so peaceful, so much like the Logan you remembered—the one who had held you tight during the darkest moments, who had whispered promises of safety and love in the shadows of your world.

You hesitated, fighting against the urge to turn away, to retreat into the safety of your solitude. But something drew you closer, a magnetic pull that you couldn’t resist. You lowered yourself to the floor beside the couch, tucking your legs beneath yourself as you settled into the familiar space. It felt almost like a ritual, a silent communion with the man you had lost and the man who was now before you.

Tentatively, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his cheek. The contact sent a jolt of electricity coursing through you, and you closed your eyes for a brief moment, savoring the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. It was a simple gesture, but it felt monumental—a connection that transcended the chasm of their reality.

“Logan,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I miss you.”

You traced the contours of his face, your fingers brushing over the rugged lines, the bump of his nose that felt so familiar yet foreign. “I wish you were here,” you murmured, your heart aching with every word. “Things were so much easier when you were here. You made everything better.”

As you spoke, memories flooded back—laughter shared under the stars, quiet moments stolen amidst chaos. You recalled how he had held you close, how his presence had been a balm for your troubled soul. The tears you had fought to hold back began to spill over, trailing down your cheeks as you continued to whisper to him, unaware of the ears that listened.

“Do you remember that night?” you asked, your voice trembling. “The one we spent at the old cabin? Just you and me, the fire crackling, the world falling away?” A soft smile broke through your tears. “You told me you loved me for the first time. I never understood how much I needed that until you were gone.”

Your fingers lingered on his lips, tracing the outline as if committing every detail to memory. “I wish you could come back to me,” you whispered. “I wish you could tell me everything would be okay. That we could go back to the way things were.”

You continued to speak, your words pouring out like a dam breaking. “I don’t know how to move on without you. It feels like I’m wandering through a fog, and I can’t find my way back. I keep seeing your face everywhere, and it hurts too much.”

Your voice cracked, and the sobs you had held at bay began to spill forth, raw and unfiltered. “I thought I could just push through it, but every time I see him…” you choked out, “I feel like I’m drowning all over again.”

“I don’t know how to face you,” you continued, her voice a whisper now. “You look so much like him, and it’s almost cruel. I keep hoping that somehow, you’ll turn into the man I loved, but you never do. You’re just… you.”

Eventually, you sat back, your hands falling to your lap as you took a shaky breath. “I just wish you could hear me,” you said softly, your voice cracking. “I wish you could know how much I still love you.”

With that, you stood up, the weight of your emotions visibly heavy on her shoulders. You looked at him one more time, before walking back to your room.

Logan lay there, his heart pounding in his chest, caught in a whirlwind of emotions. He had been awake the entire time, drawn from the depths of sleep by the sound of your voice, the weight of your touch grounding him in a reality he had longed for since he had arrived in this universe. He had wanted to reach out, to pull you into his arms, but he remained still, terrified of shattering the fragile moment.

He blew out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. How would he face you tomorrow after that?

God help him.

Taglist: @chubbyhedgehog @mostlymarvelgirl @nightingale-slayer @m1cky-y-y @arlovesper @misscrissfemmefatale

[serxinns]

Ok sorry if I'm taking up some time but something related to a picture I saw has literally been on my mind and I need some sorta short fanfic about it 😭

So basically, Yandere Fantasy AU Bakusquad where they are all dragons (Except Bakugou being a Barbarian) and a traveler reader who is incredibly hurt so is under the care of them all.

I mainly want this because I recently broke my wrist (which is now healed up) and idk 😭🙏

The Lost Traveler

Yandere! fantasy Bakusquad x gn! reader

A/n: I kinda went off on this onw hehe but I hope it was worth the wait! I hope you enjoy!

Tw!⚠️: injuries, reader getting hurt, weapons, drowning, possessive and obsessive behavior, stripping off clothes (in a non sexual way ofc) nudity (if you count reader being in their undergarments, yandere behavior, and more don't read if you can't handle it

"After them!" You heard a man yell out to his group as they chased you, but you didn't look back you didn't want to look back your main priority was safety you looked around the woods to see if there was any hiding spot but to no avail, the men kept shooting their arrows towards you as you barely dodged them. You held on to your bag tightly you didn't know how you had come to this conclusion you just went into town trying to grab some things and these men tried to rob your mother's spellbook so you kicked one of them in the groin he released you from his grasp and you continued to run

"I got this" one of the men grabbed their bow and arrow, your eyes widened in horror as he aimed for your leg and you were getting ready to dodge untill a sharp pain hit you in your upper leg you screamed in agony and dropped to the floor clutching your foot the bandits all surrounded you chucking you grabbed the book tightly not wanting those monsters getting it

"Now, now, brat, why don't you be smart and give us the book, and we'll let you go"gt.he man had a devious grin on his facfaceu spat at him, "fuck you, you'll have to kill me 1st!" The bandits snicker and laughed "Very well then.." one of the men got a weapon and held itches towards your neck your eyes widen trying to squirm off from his grasp but he pinned you against the tree hard with a final attempt you kicked him in the groin with ur shoe his grasp became loose as he howled in pain now clutching his area kneeling, "you little shit..." the crew all held their swords at you you the began crawling backward with the book praying they'll be someone to protect you

You then began to slip on something; you quickly looked behind you to see a waterfall right behind you, you gasped, wanting to crawl back, but the bandits were in front. You were at a dead end "Nowhere, the run, little shit, just give us the book!" He sneered, you had to act fast for you and the book, you look at the waterfall again hesitant you began crawling closer and closer waterfall until you felt the cliff and the loud crashing water beneath you, one of the bandits snicker th t up to what you were about to do "don't do anything stupid ya hear just give us the damn book!" He shouted you looked at him with one last glare and let your whole body go holding the book tight while you fall

You closed your eyes ready for the impact and pain, you landed in the roaring water you desperately tried gasping for air using your good arm to swim back up for air but it'd currents were too strong you tried grabbing some sort of branch or rock but kept crashing into them hard your body began to feel tired and ur eyes droopy from all the pain and energy "is this how I die.." you thought as you slowly close your eyes surrendering to the wrath of the water as they took you

...

"Aha! Gotcha!" The dragon yelled as she caught a fish with her claws she examined the fish making sure it was big enough for her friends and place it in the bucket her stomach growled in hunger she looked down and then looked at the fish, "..one fish wouldn't hurt" mina looked both ways and all around when the coast was clear she grabbed a small fish and was about toneat until a voice called her "Pink scales you better not be eating our dinner like shitty scales!" The Man said angrily, "Ughh bakugo, it was just gonna be one!" Mina whined as she reluctantly dropped the fish

"One less of our dinner!" He scolded, taking the bucket and carrying it with him. "Plus, it looked like you already had some!" He looked at her with a hard glare as she smiled sheepishly the barbarian was about to yell at her until he spotted something floating in the water he shoved the dragon away to view it closer he realized that it was a human being floating around in the river katsuki quickly went in the river not caring about hid clothes getting dragging the human out of the water "it's that a human?! Are they breathing?" She shrieked looking worriedly and concerned

Katsuki then felt the human skin it was cold..katsuki then led his head toward its chest the heart was still beating but it was barely breathing.."Mina take the human to our cottage.." he ordered Mina nodded and quickly placed you on her back and transformed into her dragon form katsuki then hopped on her back and signaled her to fly, she then carefully launched into the air making sure nobody falls then soared through the sky

As they were soaring, Katsuki took the time to examine you; it seemed like you were not from here but maybe from another region judging by your clothes, and he didn't mention it, but there was a book in the human's hands. He observed it closely. It seemed like it was from a powerful being..but he didn't know where it was from, until then he may have to keep it for a while just in case for safety

Mina roared making Katsuki snap out of his thoughts when he looked up he realized that they were home he grabbed you and jumped off Mina while steam came out of her turning her back into her human form they carried the human to the house and placing them on the couch "Mina take off through clothes and check for bruises" Mina nodded she carefully took off your closes leaving you with only your undergarments on she blushed a but reminded herself to focus, the poor human was covered in red and purple bruises and had a broken wrist Mina gaze soften feeling pity for then poor human

"The human has a bunch of bruises and a broken wrist" Bakugo scoffed "that probably gonna take half of my healing power so I'm only gonna heal them on certain areas and patch up the others letting them heal themselves" bakugo then let Mina carry the unconscious human to give them a warm bath, bathing off the dirt and gunk in their hair and gently handling them with the best of her abilities the most she saw the bruises the more angrier she seems how dare someone could do this to a precious little thing when she was done she quickly wrapped them up in a towel and carry them in the bedroom where there were already a set of warm clothes for them to wear..

....

You were panicking all you could see was black you couldn't move your body it was like you were wrapped in something, it was suffocating, you tried to scream but you couldn't hear your own voice nor you couldn't hear anything just emptyness and eerie silence, you wanted to get out of here you wanted to see if you have that spellbook you wanted to survive, are you even alive anymore?! You were breathing rapidly wondering what did you do you be in this hell

Then a soft humming rang in your ear it sounded...familiar like something your mother would do to comfort you when you were feeling ill or had a very bad day, the humming made you calm..peaceful even, your panicking began to die down as well as your breathing you squirm around trying to break free from whoever or whatever is trapping you but to no avail, then saw some light in your vision it became bigger and lighter...

You slowly opened your eyes, all you could see was a blurry red figure hovering over you humming the same tune you heard back there you blinked a couple of times to get your vision more clear, and there standing above you was a boy with red scales forming on his shoulders and large pointy like horns with red eyes staring the back at you, with a yelped you tried squirming away but her strong hands were keeping you still "Please don't struggle your weak at the moment" he said petting your hair softly trying to calm you down

"Where am i.." the red hair chuckled as if that was a silly question to ask "your home can't you tell?" He answered softly as he continued to hum confused you were about to ask what did he mean by that untill another voice could be heard "did the human wake up yet" there revealed a another dragon with blonde hair and a black lighting strike on he turned his attention towards you and his eyes brighten "they're so small!" He has as he poked your cheeks curiously wanting to feel what a human skin felt like "they're also soft as well!" He giggled happily the red haired dragon quickly swat his friends hand away as the dragon whined

"They're still healing Kaminari be gentle!" Kiri scolded him The yellow dragon softly glared at him jealous from the red dragon hogging you "would you stop fighting infront them? the poor thing is barely gaining conscious" there appeared a dragon with black hair scolding at the 2 dragons "now come on the foods almost ready" he said as he gaze at you with a soft smile the headed back to the kitchen ok now you were confused who were these people? Why are they're saying this is your new home? Are you going crazy or what

Your thoughts were then interrupted again with Kirishima picking you up and carrying you to the kitchen and plop you down to your chair you awkwardly thanked him as he happily sat down at his spot, that's when smell of the food hit your nostrils it smelled so good you even drooled a bit which you quickly wiped off with your arm embrassed hoping nobody noticed that "heh someone's hungry" the dragon away you assumed to be Sero said smirking at you as your face lit up in embrassament you looked away

"Well I haven't eaten in a few days of course I'm gonna be hungry" you protested as the black dragon chuckled "whatever you say sweets" he shrugged laying against the chair patiently waiting for the meal "dinners ready!" A loud booming voice was heard a blonde male with orange eye "Guess the little shit is awake" he grumbled "Katsuki language! Don't call the human that!" Kirishima scolded katsuki scoffed

"Don't fucking tell me what to do shitty hair you ain't the boss of me!" He said yelled the two started bickering back and forth while Kirishima wrapped his Strong arm around you protectively you tried pushing it off but it seems like he was too busy to noticed or he didn't care "boys stop arguing when our human is awake!" "Yea I bet they're starving right about now!" A purple dark then came in along with a bubbly pink dragon skipping in the kitchen the 2 boys shut themselves up and they then fix yourself and themselves a meal

it was cooked fish with a side of veggies the aroma was addictive making you go wild, fish wasn't always your favorite meal but those last few days of living off of eating berries and small animals this was a actual proper meal for you you devoured the food in seconds not noticing how the others were cooing and just adoring how cute you were, after the meal you were about to head yourself out grabbing your spellbook and thanking the kind people for the care untill a hand grabbed you by the shoulder

"And where the fuck are you going?" Bakugo said with a stern tone "Uh I'm going out I need to get back home" "in this condition? Your still hurt pumpkin no way we're gonna let you go out exposing yourself to the dangers" you didn't noticed jirou infront of the door now everyone else gathered around you looking weirdly at you...

"Why don't you stay for a few nights atleast untill your injuries healed!" Kirishima suggested you thought about it for a moment the trip back home would take rather long considering that you barely even know your way back they then carried you off to their bed all cuddling next to you

You were their human now you were a gift for them and them only those monsters are gonna pay for what they done to their little darling~

[scrapingby]

There's one character trait from Rhun that we have seen more than any other and it just breaks my heart.

Like sure, they are abrasive (Wer? Wer gefragt hat?!) and they are/used to be snarky (that scene when they were kids about the monster under the bed). And there is a whole lot to be said about Dark and White and Grey respectively.

But mostly they are just so very soft.

Roughly by point of order:

They worry about the kids that are being affected by the sweets that Klaus and Fips are giving to them. They also appear to feel strongly about people being influenced for the worse and being taken advantage of. (Weil ihr sie eh nur benutzt. Ihr Unwissenden habt schon genug Seelen beschmutzt!)

They make sure Ray knows that his efforts are known and appreciated (even though they immediately follow this up by telling him about the mean things that are being said about him, but even that is said to declare that those people are wrong).

While searching for Dark they take the time to make sure LurkyGirl is okay.

They make sure not to hurt the streamer (Papaplatte I think?) that Dark is using to hold Rhun off.

Yeah, they go along with Oskars plan to capture Dark. They were desperate (and I would guess not for themselves but for what it would mean for the world if they couldn't continue to due their job) getting weaker by the minute and all other attempts had failed. And the moment they realized that the chains were hurting Dark they stopped. Stopped and freed Dark and the telling Dark that they wanted it to be on both of their terms to merge again.

They worry about Oskar, some guy they have only known for a short time. When confronted with his betrayal and real plan, they don't react with hate or declarations of revenge but with concern about what their actions will cause.

When Pete, Joon and Ju find them, their first reaction is neither happiness nor relief. Instead they see Fips and all they can wonder sadly what happened to him.

They don't even rush Joon at first, even though they are currently living through the worst pain possible because they are still chained. Only when Joon is finished with his tale do they (Rhun and Dark) tell him to finally free him. And the best part? They listened. Because when they tried to send them home, they opened a door to North Korea. Because Joon told them that this is where he was born.

They make sure to save both Rainer and Joon, because they can actually do something for them.

Once they are at the hotel their first action is to return all their workers to normal and send them to safety.

They try to do the same with Joon and Rainer and then they loose their cool (and who wouldn't? They have guarded Eos face for hundreds of years. They were only just betrayed and had to spend the past whoever-knows-how-many days in unimaginable pain. And then such an obvious lie? -> side note: I hc that Rhun tries to be cautious but they are still very naive and always end up believing in the good of the people. This often ends badly for them and is one of the reasons they hate when others are being taken advantage of. It's too close to home). But then they let Joon and Rainer stay (Joon did say that they came in the hope of being safe at the hotel) and even take them to their most closely guarded secret.

Also, when Eos takes over and that energy blast sent Rhun flying? I think the only reason Joon wasn't also hurt was because Rhun was somehow protecting him with their magic.

I also need to mention that that scene where Eos is about to kill Rhun and Rhun doesn't say anything? Just bares their teeth and braces for it? That scene hurts on a different level.

And finally: Rhun not only saving Julia but also taking the time to (bluntly) explain that she has to be more careful. They even try to comfort her and help her deal with her fear! And then they make sure that Julia will never get lost again by giving her the Zahnseide (which going by the old Zahnfee song is probably not the first time this has happened. They did sing that the Zahnseide was being used in very unvonential ways).

Just.

I love Rhun so much.

[kpop---scenarios]

Maniac (6)

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader x Minho

Warning: Nothing really, being scared, language, kidnapped

Word Count: 2k

Taglist: @oddracha @hyunjinhoexxx @baby-stay92 @felixleftchickennugget

@skzooluvr @felixleftchickennugget @elzz123 @bangchansleftbutcheek

@kayleefriedchicken @yaorzu-blog @rylea08 @vietjeb @iovecb97

@skzdust @anylady-fics @ilovemyapopbaby @gloriajovicc

@kkamismom12 @chuuyaobsessed

Everything Taglist: @wife2straykidss @piscesrising01 @baby-stay92 @kisses-too-the-moon

@dwaekkiiracha @silly250 @rylea08 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1

@satosugu4l @gabriellamarie @tsunderelino @iovecb97 @1810cl

@lordmaahes-nsc @sailorkoss @minh0scat @pixie0627 @50-husbands

@jinnies-muse @yaorzu-blog @anskiiz @joyofbebbanburg @number1jeonginstan @skzooluvr

@jisunglyricist @ambersnowxxx @ayyonoona @31maze13 @stay-tiny-things @thegingerthatwaited @hoesheez

“Why the fuck does she look so disheveled?” Minho snaps at the man who had you. “Did I not give you a goddamn list of what you can and cannot do?” He spits.

“Oh fuck man, we went off just a little bit.” The man scoffs. “The little bitch has a fucking mouth on her.”

“I'll fucking kill you if you talk about her like that again.” Minho grunts, helping you up off the chair. He puts his jacket over you, with his arm around your shoulder as he helps you walk out of the building. The sun is so bright it almost blinds you, it had felt like years since you'd seen it shining. You had so many questions for Minho but at this moment, you were too tired, dirty, sore and hungry to even ask him. He leads you into the back of his car, gently helping you in and buckling your seatbelt. He goes around to the driver's side of the car, turning on the car and driving away from the building.

Minho glances back at you through the rear view mirror, like he was keeping an eye on you. Making sure you weren't going to open the back door and roll out of the speeding car. It's not like you hadn't thought about it, but you didn't have the strength to do it.

“Are you hungry?” He asks, looking at you once again.

You nod your head, holding his jacket around your body tighter. You were scared, sad and honestly you just wanted to see Hyunjin. Oh, he's probably so worried about you. You can imagine him and your father out trying to find you. If only they knew, you were closer than they thought.

A little while later, Minho pulls into a driveway, parking the car near the large front door. He helps your weak body out of the car, almost carrying you inside the house. He leads you up the stairs and into a room, which is decorated, with pictures scattered around.

“Is this your room?” You ask. Minho smiles, nodding his head.

“Yeah. Here.” He says, opening another door. “You can take a shower.”

You gave him a small smile, you knew you needed to be compliant for now.

“Do you need help?” He asks.

“No, no that's okay. But thank you.” You mumble, hoping he wouldn't push it. You didn't have the energy to fight him and you didn't want to.

“I'll get you something to wear and then we'll have food, okay?” He grins.

“Sure. That sounds good.” You reply.

Please just leave.

Minho leaves the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Once you're in the shower, it all finally hits you. You were kidnapped, beaten, verbally abused… and Minho was behind it all? You didn't want to be here. You just wanted Hyunjin. You needed a way to tell him where you were without Minho getting suspicious.

You stand there for a while, letting the water run down your body, washing your bruises, your cuts and scrapes. You watch the water splash onto the floor, becoming so dirty as the memories of the last, however long, run down the drain with the dirty water. When you finally feel like you're clean enough, you turn off the water, grabbing the fluffy towel, wrapping it around yourself. You take a deep breath. You didn't want to face Minho again but you knew you didn't have a choice. You were a strong woman. If you could survive what you went through, you could find a way to survive this. You open the door, seeing Minho sitting on the bed, with folded clothes in his lap. As soon as he sees you, he stands up, walking towards you with the clothes. He hands them to you without a word. You go back into the bathroom, putting on the sweat pants and oversized shirt he gave to you. Opening the door once again, you walk out of the bathroom, clean and refreshed. Minho holds out his hand for you to take. It took everything you had in you to take his hand in yours. After everything he wanted to act like he didn't do anything?

“Let's go get some food.” He says, leading you out of the room. You walk back down the stairs, following behind him. You're trying to take in the massive house but you're distracted by the smell of food cooking. Minho leads you into the kitchen, where there is a spread of food lined across the counter. Anything and everything you could want was out and it made your mouth drool.

“Dig in.” Minho says, handing you a plate.

You get some of everything, until you can't hold anymore on your plate. You sit at the kitchen table, slowly beginning to eat. Minho sits down across from you, only a few things scattered on his plate.

“I'm sure you have some questions.” He sighs, pushing his plate out of the way, leaning against his arms on the table.

“I do.” You say, swallowing the food in your mouth.

“Did you plan the whole thing?” You ask. “The kidnapping, selling me… all of it?”

“Yeah, I did.” He says.

“Why?”

“Because I knew you wouldn't choose me.” Minho explains. “I knew you'd choose Hyunjin, because I've fucked up slightly as few times.”

“I'm sorry, what?” You scoff. “I went through that hell because you convinced yourself that I wouldn't choose you?” You yell.

“I'm not wrong, Am I?” He yells back. “After our first date, there's no fucking way you would have chosen me.”

“How do you know? It was a first date, I hadn't made any decisions about who I was going to pick!” You yell.

“Yeah right.” He scoffs. “I could see the way you looked at Hyunjin. You never looked at me like that, did you?”

“What are you talking about?” You ask.

“Dont play fucking dumb, Y/N. I know you're not an idiot. You're just like everyone else, fucking swooning over him. I needed a win this time! I needed to prove to my father that I could do something fucking right!” He yells.

“Are you kidding me?” You laugh, but there's no humor. “All of this was over showing your father that you weren't a fuck up?” You snap. “Fucking news flash, Minho. You are a goddamn fuck up!” You scream.

Minho shoves himself back from the table. He stands up, reaching over the table, slapping you across the face. You sit there, shocked for a moment, until an uncontrollable amount of rage fuels you.

“You know what?” You begin. “You're right, I wouldn't have chosen you. Who fucking would!?. And this shit.” You pause. “This elaborate plan you concocted, makes me even more sure that I would never, ever marry a fucking insecure, gambling addicted failure, not to mention psychotic, piece of shit like you!” You scream, throwing your plate at him, quickly getting out of your chair and bolting for the front door. You run past what look like his father's men, who are standing there watching you run down the hallway.

“Fucking stop her!” Minho screams, pointing towards you. The men rush after you, but you're already out the door and half way through the field. You don't have any shoes on but you don't care. You needed to get away from him. You run into the woods, feeling the branches break under your feet, poking you as the leaves crunch beneath you. Even as you're being stabbed by rocks, branches, and whatever else is on the ground, your pace doesn't falter. Your chest hurts, your legs are burning, you can't catch your breath. You can hear them behind you, running through the woods to find you. You can hear Minho screaming your name. You didn't want to go back to him. You couldn't. You couldn't spend one more moment with the man who organized your kidnapping. You just wanted to go home.

You finally got to the point where you couldn't run anymore. Your legs wouldn't take you any further. You look around, finding a large tree, you quickly rush towards it, sinking down behind the tree. You cover your mouth with your hand, trying to quiet your breathing. You can hear twigs snapping all around you. You try to make yourself smaller, trying to blend in with the tree.

Anything.

“Oh Y/N. Come out, come out, wherever you are!” Minho yells. His voice echos, but sounds closer with each call of your name. Tears brim in your eyes, one tear rolling down your cheek. You're trying so hard not to sob right now.

“Come on, baby. Come out. Let's go home, we can eat and then go to bed!” He yells. He sounds closer. Your heart is pounding. Your stomach is a swarm of anxiety. You close your eyes, begging inside your head to wake you up from this fucking nightmare.

“Please wake me up. Please. Please.” You whisper to yourself. You were begging anyone, anything, whatever higher power there was. You just needed someone. Something to help you get out of this forest and away from Minho. You had been in some scary situations before but never something like this. You felt like you were being hunted, and you just wanted to go home. You wanted to see Hyunjin and your father.

You hear a crunch. Right in front of you. You take a breath. You open your eyes. Seeing a pair of shoes right in front of you. You look up, seeing Minho smiling down at you.

“Found you.” He whispers in a chilling voice. He was smiling but you could tell he was filled with rage and you didn't know what he was capable of.

And that was scarier than anything.

Minho grabs you by your arm, digging his fingers deep into you as he forces you up to your feet. He keeps his grip on you as he practically drags you out of the forest. He didn't say a single word to you the entire way back to the house, and you were terrified. The look in his eyes was indescribable, he looked almost dead inside. Minho brings you back inside the house, bringing you upstairs and shoves you down on the bed. He looks at you with such hate.

“Why couldn't you just love me?” He asks. “Huh?” He yells. “No answer?”

You just look at him. You can't form any words, you don't even know what you could possibly say to him. You had no answer, you at least didn't have the answer that he wanted you to have.

“Don't fucking move.” He snaps. “Move an inch and they'll never find your fucking body.” He spits, walking out of the room, slamming the door behind him. You can't move. You can't breathe. All you can do is cry, but even then, if you move he'll kill you.

And you really believed him when he said he would. Something inside him has snapped and the longer you stayed trapped in this house, the closer to death you probably were. You quickly get up, running to the window. You fumbled with the lock, pushing it up, and you climbed out onto the roof. You hadn't realized how high up his room actually was. Did you jump? Didn't you climb back inside and risk seeing what Minho had planned for you?

You need to make a decision fast. If you jumped and broke something, you wouldn't be able to run away, but you also didn't want to see what Minho might actually do to you. You took a breath, knowing what was your best and really, only option. You climbed back into Minho's room, quickly and quietly, closing the window before getting back on the bed, hopefully in the same position while also trying to control your breathing.

Seconds later, Minho comes back into the room, ropes in hand.

“Don't worry baby.” He smiles, a soulless smile. “You'll come around. They always do.”

If you enjoy my stories, and would like to read more of them, please consider donating or commissioning a story. You can do so HERE. I appreciate you and you help ♡

[twiniverse]

Just to give it its own post, because it's important enough to warrant it:

I'm not "the person choosing the give the finger to people who need accessibility tools". I have not once said that people can't write ids on my posts. I didn't say I wouldn't look into having someone else do it. I said that I can't do it, that it is not my job, and that a certain someone's attitude is foul and that makes people less likely to want to do what they say.

I also have not thrown a little hissy fit because someone isn't doing what I want. I haven't literally told anyone that I wouldn't leave them alone until they did what I wanted them to do. I haven't used several different accounts and ips to evade being blocked in order to angrily yell about how superior I am to everyone else in the fandom, or to belittle anyone. I haven't gone to the side account of someone who has blocked me to continue my tantrum there.

I don't have a problem with accessibility, or with people who volunteer their time to give access to more people. Believe it or not, accessibility is something I'm highly dedicated to and something I am often finding new ways to implement in my actual job. My team is implementing on-site image blockers on the user side so they don't have to see things that upset them. We're making sure our on-site games aren't going to be triggering people's vertigo. We're making sure there are colour themes so that no one has to choose between blinding white light or blinding white letters, but the people who do like those options will have them, too! We're implementing high contrast mode! Our head coder is blind, in fact. We'll be working with her quite a bit to make the site- which is visual based- still accessible for those with screen readers and other aids. She has a braille display, isn't that cool? I didn't even know those were a thing until she told me.

My problem is specifically with the person who has not only harassed me, but other people in the fandom. My problem is specifically with the person who outright admitted that their reaction to being told "no" is to become aggressive and condescending. My problem is specifically with the person who thinks they're the only person who gives a damn. My problem is with the person who says that they don't have to do it, that they're volunteering their time because they care, but also says it's their job and we need to let them do it. My problem is with the person who speaks on behalf of others who do not want to be spoken for. My problem is specifically with the person who told me that they would continue harassing me unless I met their demands. My problem is specifically with the person who will read a fraction of what I actually said here and will respond with how horrible of a human I am because I focus on accessibility with my actual job and not my fancomic that I barely have the energy to work on in the first place.

My problem is specifically with the person who read everything I said and instead of recognising and accepting that they're the only one I have a problem with decided to start attacking me and accusing me of being ableist because they, and no one else, have pissed me off.

As I said to begin with, I blocked them because of their attitude and the way they harass people. The way they've harassed my friends, the way they've harassed people I don't like, the way they've harassed newbies, etc, etc. It had nothing to do with IDs, and it still doesn't. I blocked a shitty person, and that person made an assumption and is throwing a hissy fit about it. That's all there is to it. The bottom line is that genuinely anyone can add id's to my posts except for that specific person because I don't want that specific person interacting with me.

This next bit is for you, that specific person: "-but you blocked me after writing a single image description for your posts, for some stupid reason." It was not a stupid reason. And like I said in my response, it had nothing to do with you writing an image description for my post. It's because you're a foul, slimy little cockroach with a superiority complex. You think you're the hero but you're the villain here.

So, again, as disrespectfully as possible: Fuck. Off.

[blueikeproductions]

I’m curious about that too.

Currently Hot Rod is camped out in Void Rivals.

The latest revelations depicts Darak and Solila’s species as being related to Transformers, and that Hot Rod and Springer are looking into an old Autobot legend connected to the organic cyborg’s home planet the Sacred Ring. The artificial planet and its people are connected to a mysterious Transformer called Zerta Trion, a robot so controversial among Quintessons, she’s considered “The Unspoken One”.

Zerta Trion is attempting to bring her own children together, not unlike Primus needing the Autobots and Decepticons to cooperate against Unicron, with Solila as the one to help do it in particular. However unity among the Sacred Ring is considered taboo, its two leaders creativity division to prevent it, fearing the destruction of their people.

What that entails exactly is unclear atm, but when Darak and Solila did briefly connect, this happened.

A giant robot slumbering in the Sacred Ring’s black hole briefly awoke. It’s confirmed not to be Unicron, although to be honest, I would think the lack of a planet mode and trademark horns would be the tip off it’s not… Presumably this is Goliant, the aliens’ word for the end should unity happen. My current guess is Goliant may be Zerta Trion herself, or at least something related to her also.

The current arc also refers to a Vector Theta, though as of typing we don’t know what that is yet. Similar to Zerta Trion’s connection to Alpha Trion, clearly Vector Theta is related to Vector Sigma, the life giving super computer from the original cartoon. Besides Alpha Trion giving up his life to merge with Sigma to create the Aerialbots, Optimus would have a connection to it as well in the cartoon and other media, with Japanese media seeing him merge with it as well to stop a catastrophic meltdown that would destroy Cybertron, once again trusting Rodimus Prime to be his successor.

So how does this connect to Hot Rod?

My current assumption is a splitting of the difference, similar to Superlink and Animated. Rodimus will appear alongside Optimus but there’s a catch to it.

You can’t really pass on the Matrix atm due to the connection is has with Sparkplug and Optimus. Sparkplug’s sacrifice and his own wisdom passed on to the Matrix to guide Optimus while he’s on Earth doesn’t really jive if Hot Rod gets it at this stage.

So instead I think he becomes Rodimus at some point in Void Rivals.

But it’s tricky.

The current Hasbro story is Alpha Trion is one of the legendary Primes, but Skybound has been a bit dodgy about using Quintus and co, instead sticking to a version based more on the 80’s cartoon history with the Quintessons as the creators.

The Trion moniker in Skybound has only been bestowed to two Transformers, Zerta and Alpha, with Trion referring to someone with great wisdom. It’s unclear if Alpha Trion and Zerta Trion are Primes here, though because The Fallen was referenced, it’s possible Alpha is, but because of Hasbro’s continued waffling on Primes, Zerta will either be the 13th Prime and/or Alpha Trion’s ambitious (non-Prime) twin sister.

My point being is Hot Rod gets inducted into the fold, meeting up with Springer and Darak, and shenanigans ensue that sees Hot Rod evolve into Rodimus Trion to help Darak and Solila lead a new age or some such.

This isn’t new territory for Hot Rod either.

ReGen One would see Hot Rod unify the Transformers with their demonoid ancestors.

And on his final days, after all the original Transformers died out, Rodimus Prime’s Matrix energy would see the Demons evolve into the Maximals and Predacons.

In Japanese media, Rodimus Prime would embark on a journey to find a new home planet for the Transformers, after Scorponok rendered Cybertron uninhabitable for the time being. A manga would further depict a now Micromaster Hot Rod founding Planet Micro alongside other early Micromasters.

In Superlink, Rodimus would found a breakaway faction of war weary Autobots and Decepticons that escaped the Great War during the Armada era to found colony worlds so these Transformers could live in peace. This also saw the evolution of the Omnicon species from these refugees.

So Skybound Hot Rod helping the Zertonians and Agorrians and become Rodimus Trion/Theta/Goliant doesn’t feel like a stretch to me. Coupled with DWJ liking both Hot Rod and Cobra-La, I think he’s in safe hands so far. At least I hope he doesn’t become a depressed drunk or be stuck in a coma.

[least-evil-resident]

Although the cast is originally human, transferring them to DnD 5e gives us some interesting and thematic lineage options.

Chris Redfield feels very Dragonborn, proud, faithful, skilled as a soldier but unsure. At first he's faithful to the army, but his sense of good outweighs his sense of law. A gold dragon bloodline could be fun since he gets the Flamethrower.

Giving him the soldier background and replacing land vehicles with air. Air ships and dragon piloting. Starts as a Fighter, Champion lvl 3ish. Maybe later he becomes a paladin of devotion/crown

Jill Valentine I headcanon as daughter of a criminal. I think tiefling would be great for this since it reinforces her want for privacy, maybe a sense of mistrust in a cruel world, her desire to go against the status quo and prove others wrong. But also her need to do good as part of that rebellion - she's more than just a woman, she's more than just a tiefling, she's more than just the daughter of a thief.

She has the criminal background as a spy and is an inquisitor rogue - although glory paladin could be cool

Rebecca Chambers feels kinda halfling? Maybe half elf or gnome. She has 'smol' energy. Young and bright and smart and very protective of her friends. I think because she doesn't really fit with the Lightfoot stealthyness or the rock gnomes tinkering she's more likely to still be human than anyone though. She's also the youngest protagonist, and humans are usually the youngest of the races in a given setting.

Rebeccas got the Cloistered Scholar background and starts off as a very low level life Cleric

Barry Burton, however, is very gnome-coded. Like, you'd think Dwarf, because he's thick and beardy? But he's a gnome. He's a little jokester. A little mischief man. He likes tinkering with guns and as much as he's loyal to his family and friends, he doesn't care about tradition and clan. He'd simply an unserious and lighthearted fellow.

Hes also a Soldier, but while Chris is more Flying Cavalry, Barry is a support staff/quartermaster type. He's an Artillerist Artificer. And maybe a bit of a battle master fighter.

Albert Wesker, being Definitely A Vampire, could also be dragonborn which would be a fun parallel with Chris. Vampirism is kinda funky in the Forgotten Realms, where the list of things that *cant* be a vampire is much shorter than the things that *can*. Simic Hybric, as something that looks almost human but was created through gene splicing, could also be thematically fun. While villains rarely get pc classes, could be fun to make him an undead/undying warlock.

Billy Coen is a Tiefling Paladin who *is* Oath of the Crown. He never became an Oathbreaker, no matter what. His background is Soldier.

Leon Scott Kennedy is also a Tiefling Paladin Oath of the Crown. He is a Very Good Boy who's family were killed from crime. It's almost insane how often this happens to RE protagonists, BTW. Like, wow. That world is a straight up biopunk dystopia. I think Oath of the Crown makes sense for his devotion to the people of the country, culminating in his agent training. Which he picks up Rogue levels for after meeting Ada. Anyway, he could be a Zariel Tiefling and Jill can be a Glasya Tiefling.

Ada Wong is... maybe Tabaxi? Curious, playful, wandering. An agent of chaos rather than outright evil. Mysterious and aloof, tail brushing under Leon's chin as she walks past. Graceful, agile, dexterous. I could see it. I also think she's a mastermind rogue while Leon takes inquisitor rogue. She schemes and plots and double crosses while he chases her clues and solves the case. It's romantic. She obviously has the Criminal Background.

Sherry Birkin is an interesting case. I like to think she's a reborn (ravenloft) like a resurrected human or half elf. More half maybe. I think even as a kid she starts with like a couple levels in shadow sorcerer and later takes celestial warlock. She also gets the haunted one background.

Claire Redfield, being a Dragonborn like her brother, has the guild artisan background, and is a battle Smith artificer. She rides her mechanical horse into battle instead of a motorcycle.

Carlos Oleivera though? He gets the Mercenary Background and is a Hobgoblin, having grown up in a war torn country and passed around between militant forces.

Ashley Graham is just a Noble. She maybe picks up a level in rogue over the course of the game. But I think it would be kind of hilarious to have this One Human Girl who's like a Princess getting rescued by her Knight in Sarcastic Armor. No special powers or tragic backstory yet. This *is* her nearly tragic backstory.

Luis Serra is I think the platonic ideal of a half-elf raised among elves. An isolationist tribe of wood elves stuck some centuries behind humans, outgrowing his peers but being dismissed by his eternal elders. Runs off to become a Cloistered Scholar, gets a couple levels of Lore Bard, and slowly becomes a Necromancy Wizard.

Sheva Alomar is a Soldier (scout). She makes for a good Ranger as either a Hunter - Horde Breaker or a Monster Slayer. I don't see her as fitting thematically with much other than human. Maybe drangborn, maybe Dwarf or half elf, but nothing speaks out to me strongly.

Piers Nivans is a Hobgoblin Soldier. He is kind of obsessed with the military. Probably a Fighter, maybe as an Arcane Archer?

Jake Muller is a Dhampyr Mercenary and a Long Death Monk.

Helena Harper is a Half-Orc criminal or faction agent Barbarian. Probably Berserker. I'm saying she's kinda dumb and flies off the handle a lot.

Sherry reappears with her Celestial Warlock levels, Chris reappears with maybe some Zealot Barbarian or Crown Paladin levels, Leon appears fully formed with Crown Paladin+ Inquisitor Rogue

Ethan Winters - and I cannot stress this enough - is truly Just A Guy. He is a straight up Commoner. *Maybe* a Variant Human. He gains parts of the Haunted One background as the game goes on and quickly becomes a Reborn. I can see the case for him getting Alchemist Artificer levels as the game goes on, but Spores Druid would be *very* funny. This guy thinks he's an unwilling Undying Warlock. Nah. Spore Dad Mold Man.

medieval resident evil au where Umbrella is a cabal of dark mages trying to unlock the secrets to lichdom and go mad learning secrets from the undead eldritch horror outside of space and time

Chris and Jill are Knights in service of the Order of Stars, Leon is a beginning town guard, Ada is still a spy, honestly not much is different

If you give them ttrpg character sheets then it's even more fun

Would guns be wands, badass Crossbows, or straight up magic, or different based on the game? They could also just be guns but that wouldn't be nearly as interesting.

Consider pistol=dagger, rifle=longsword, shotgun=axe? Grenades could be hand bombs or magic.

Or pistol=hand crossbow, rifle=light crossbow, shotgun is either special bolt or a spell

Beneath the cobblestone streets of raccoon city, where gaslamps and auto-carriages ramble, is the lair of an evil sect of mages developing spells in secret to transform humans into beasts

Could be very bloodborne-esque. Lots of fire and brimstone. Maybe STARS are more like paladins, and the bsaa is an order of Templar type organization.

If we go dnd 5e rules, Chris is a fighter for sure, Jill is like a rogue I guess? Leon could go either. It could be fun to make Claire like a sorcerer since she gets the grenade launcher

In later games I think Chris definitely fits either paladin or barbarian, where Leon goes for more rogue/maybe ranger vibes. Jill seems more rogue+fighter but magic rogue is cool, maybe artificer. Claire would be sorcerer multiclass I think. Keep any mages low powered that way.

Sherry in 6 is maybe warlock or aasimar instead of Cleric? Blood hunter would be cool. Rebecca starts as a Cleric in 0 for sure. For a low magic setting where research and Rituals are matched by quick, small combat spells, how high of a DC do you think enemies would go?

Of course, in a classless system like gurps or all flesh, this would be a lot less restrictive. What would be the best system for resident evil normally? What would be the best one for its fantasy au?

Wesker very much fits the low-fantasy vampire theme. He has a reflection and can step in he sunlight but wow it hurts his eyes. Chris rolls a 20 to punch a boulder to death.

Leon has the lucky feat or 20 in dex or something to pull off his stunts. Chris also gets Charisma as a leader for the bsaa, so paladin is up his alley. Leon's secret service requires more rogue skills, but his time in operation javier trains his skills as a Ranger under Krauser maybe?

Jill and Claire both get grenade launchers, but Jill is more Rogue with her lockpicking so it makes sense for them to switch level ups later on as claire learns more professional skills for rogue training.

Barry definitely hits fighter/barbarian with his heavy weapons. Jake is maybe more monk/barbarian but with something like a dhampir ancestry feature? Sheva is maybe rogue/fighter or paladin fighter since thats when chris starts taking paladin levels. Billy has to be rogue/fighter I think, or maybe fighter/rogue, if he even gets a second class. It would almost make sense for him to be pure rogue and rebecca be cure cleric, since she retires to become a researcher and hes never heard from again. Helena is I guess just plain rogue, hinting at her role in 6, while Leon has his ranger levels. Piers is more rogue/Ranger (or fighter archer). A lot of the one off teammates just don't get super interesting classes as a consequence of their limited appearance. Carlos... Fighter? Just fighter is fine.

Now, the problem here is that each game starts off with little to no equipment for various reasons. In the case of our spell casters like claire and jill, we can't just de-level them between adventures in the resident evil campaign. But we could give them more limited access to spell components to match the resource management of survival horror.

This is more complicated outside of dnd 5e, where a game like All Flesh Must Be Eaten has very different spellcasting rules, so you'd need to stray from a low-magic to a straight low-fantasy setting. Alchemist tools and one use spell scrolls replace your grenades and spell casting maybe? That's the issue you'd run into with treating the setting as one campaign instead of each game as an individual campaign though.

The easiest one to do is RE8. It's literally the same. Ethan starts 7 as a human Commoner, takes levels in artificer as the game goes on, since that one introduced crafting, and comes back very subtly as a human variant with a few new levels in fighter from chris' tutoring. Hey that means we can give Hiesenburg an artificer friend! Class buddies ♡ hiesenburg is probably artificer/sorcerer, giving him charisma and intelligence. Dimetrescu is maybe barbarian if she even gets class levels.

I don't think we can justifiably say Rose is a variant human, I think she gets her own custom ancestry features for this. Sorcerer also feels better than Druid for her, but a couple levels in - you guessed it, rogue! Cover her gun and Stealth skills. You get a lot or rogues and fighters in low powered/low fantasy settings, who knew lol

[punkitt-is-here]

i personally have never watched any Ponies stuff before Gen 4, EXCEPT this one YouTube video of Gen 3 titled "Minty being autistic for 6 minutes straight", which is probably in the top 5 most pleasant-to-watch videos i've ever seen.

like i don't know if i would get anything out of the rest of the show, but that video is literally such a great video!!

this is my new favorite video of all time me and my girlfriend were wheezing laughing at this

[saltyb0ba]

"you always beat the level before me, but i had fun anyways!"

AU/prediction for S5. MK goes beserk in his kaiju form and mei shows him a drawing he made of him and mei back in S1 MK runs to mei to knock her out but he stops just a few feet in front of her when he sees what she's holding.

more AU since i don't think this will happen but there's always a chance!

[moinsbienquekaworu]

If I didn't already have multiple drawings I want to finish I'd start a series of Constant interacting with their companions. I already have ideas and everything!!

[beastimusprojects]

Chapter 16: Falling together

______________________________________________________________

            “He shouldn’t be alive, but he is. Thank goodness I caught him, but no one should be able to survive a drop from that height.” Hywel gradually came to as the woman standing over him spoke.

            “How am I still alive?”

            “Well, that’s what we were wondering, you got hit a bunch by the glowy lady with the wings, but somehow you killed her about three or four miles up and managed to survive the fall.”

            Hywel sat up, his head hurt, and the world was spinning a little, everything was really bright.

            Devil energy, it’ll wear off as you digest it.

            Oh, that explains it.

            “You’re also horribly emaciated, we got you some stuff to eat, you know, as a thank you for saving… well probably everyone.”

            Hywel realized that he had been moved and was now sitting on the deck of a large ship, but he was hungry, and so he asked no questions before accepting and slurping down the bowl of soup he was given.

            Another woman came up to him, he recognized her as the one Karol had attacked, she was absolutely covered in scars.

            “What did she do to you?”

            “Not much, don’t worry, I’ve had most of these for a long time. Though, I’d be a lot worse if you hadn’t come at that exact moment.”

            “Are you the one she told me about? Phoenix, I think she said?”

            “Yeah, that’s me.”

            “I’m sorry for what you went through, I should have realized that Karol was bad news earlier.”

            “If you don’t mind, can you explain what was going on there? You killed her somehow, no one could see, but she absolutely bodied the best of the hunters.” Phoenix pointed to where Orwen was still lying unconscious.

            “Demon. She had a Devil; I sucked the life right out of her.” Hywel hung his head between his knees.

            “Wow.” Phoenix was oblivious to Hywel’s shame, only in awe of his power. “Just think of what you can do with that kind of power.” She said, almost whispering.

            “But also, what you have to do to get it.” “It’s not worth becoming a monster.”

            “I don’t know, people usually leave monsters alone, if I had what you have…” she trailed off.

            “I should leave, thank you for your hospitality, but I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

            “You can’t, you saved the lives of literally half the people on this ship, you can stay for as long as you want.”

            “Well, but I have somewhere to be.”

            “Where are you going that can’t wait for you to rest for a few hours?”

            “Core, something bad is going to happen there, pretty soon.”

            “That’s where we’re going to, you can come with us, you need a ship anyway to get there in any reasonable time.” “Unless demons also give you super-fast speed.”

            “Are you sure, you don’t mind traveling with the vessel of a demon?”

            “You are still not the most dangerous person I’m traveling with.”

            “I severely doubt that.”

            “Well, like I said, that guy over there is the most skilled hunter alive, and he currently is on a mission to bring me back to Hunter headquarters.”

            “Wait, is that Orwen Desinor?” “Are you just randomly traveling with Orwen Desinor?”

            “Yeah, and the disgraced crown prince of Levias.”

            “”

            “Yeah, you coming with us really doesn’t add much danger factor to this.”

            “Ok, we’ll get to the Levias thing in a minute, but, why are you traveling with Orwen Desinor if he has a contract on you. I used to be a Seeker, that guy killed Scout! Scout, like it was nothing!”

            Phoenix shrugged “I suspect I am neither as dispassionate nor as tactically minded as I would like to believe.” “So, what do you say?”

            “Ok, I hope I do not live to regret this.”

            “Excellent, let’s give you a tour of the ship.”

______________________________________________________________

@brokendarkfairyempressforever

@hijabi-flavored-nerd

@betanian117

This chapter is short

New post for the Phoenix Story:

Up to chapter 12:

CW for some Suicidal Ideation, General Angst, Mild Body horror, and as of now, one instance of the f-word.

Chapter 1: A Beautiful Night

______________________________________________________________

            Phoenix finally relaxed.

            As she watched the moon slide over the sun, she relished in the fact that she was now, truly, wonderfully alone. Alone, more than anyone else had probably been in a long, long time. There are, of course, ways to be alone not requiring physical distance, and ways of being together that overcome any distance. But it had been a decade since Phoenix had truly experienced togetherness in any of those ways, and the physical isolation was as absolute as she could imagine it. There was no one within 30 miles of where she sat, on an island that no one knew existed on the edge of where life in the sky had penetrated. No one could get there, the navigational skills required were immense and rare, even in such far-flung places as this.    

            By all rights, trying to get to Phoenix in that moment would be like trying to contact the spirits of the dead.

            It was good to be alone, for it was only in this isolation, which, she imagined, would be for some soul-crushing, that she was finally safe. For the first time in a long time, a decade, exactly in fact (she had felt her 17th birthday as she stepped onto the island,) she was safe. At that thought, a wave of, not happiness, but certainly peace washed over her.

            She knew it wouldn’t last, in two hours her first scar would twinge, and that would bring back memories of the worst time in her life. And she couldn’t sustain the aloneness, if only for purely practical reasons. But she would enjoy it for now.

            She looked up and saw that the moon had finished its arc, leaving only the corona of the sun visible. As the night songbirds started to sing, Phoenix went to find a place to sleep for the first night in a new chapter of her life.

            And what a beautiful night it would be.

______________________________________________________________

            It was of course a beautiful night, but Orwen didn’t see much of it, despite his perch on the roof of the headquarters of The Hunters. He did not admire the beauty of the stars or the reflection of the ring of fire in the lake, but rather stared into a handheld mirror, running a finger along his scar.

            The scar should have been a thing of beauty, it was a perfect Hunter’s Mark, a thin but bright slash from the inside of his left eye to the right corner of his mouth. By conventional wisdom, he should have been grateful, the mark was only supposed to fall on the greatest hunters.

            But to him, it only reminded him of his greatest failure. Six months tomorrow. Six months since he had fought the hardest fight of his life. Six months since the first time he thought he might die. Six months since he’d fought and killed the greatest of the Seekers, but that had not been what gave him the scar.

            He was the Nitehawk, the greatest hunter of all time, but a lowlife thief had not only beaten him, she’d marked him.

            “You mean nothing,” he told himself he was talking to the scar, “until I find her.”

            He was not there in the morning.

______________________________________________________________

            “Not so fast Dere! I can see you.”

            As the figure ran along the wall, Hywel knocked an arrow.

            “Not leaving on my watch!”

            He let the arrow fly. It didn’t strike the figure, but it didn’t need to, because Hywel quickly Stepped, and was up on the wall, arrow gripped in his right hand. His left was soon gripping the figure’s coat, which slowly shifted back into its more natural catlike form.

            “Would you believe I was just out for a walk? It’s a very nice night!” Dere exclaimed.

            “No, I don’t believe the words of demons, especially not ones who I catch escaping.” Dere was always unpleasant to deal with. “And now of all times we can’t afford to give you an inch. Not with Scout dead.” Their leader had been killed 6 months prior, and morale had been severely sapped since. The Seekers, and by extension the Alliance of the Sky, had been losing ground fast ever since. They’d already lost control of Nerestar and Dorsinli.

            Hywel wasn’t worried they’d lose the war anytime soon, but it didn’t look good for his chances of ever leaving this post.

As Hywel carried the wretched thing inside, it displayed an array of strategies to avoid its inevitable return to imprisonment. First it pretended to be cute and demure, then it scratched futilely at Hywel’s thick gloves, screaming obscenities that hadn’t been heard by mortal ears in centuries, then it whispered in his ears with that terrible voice, promises of power and wealth. Lies, of course, though, weighed against the prospect of spending the next decade on post guarding the creature, Hywel had to admit to being tempted.

______________________________________________________________ Chapter 2: A wonderful morning.

            Other than blackberries, the island seemed to be almost completely empty. It would be a lot of work to make the place habitable long term, and that would have to include several trips to somewhere habited. But a few trips to get some chickens and sheep and then Phoenix could probably stay here for a long time. Eventually, she would have to build a house, but she didn’t know where she’d get the materials for such a project.

            Its kind of ironic, I guess. To make my fortress of solitude, I have to go to people.

            I can wait a while though.

            She worked to clear a patch out from the blackberries – fire made quick work of the bushes – more so to distract herself than anything else. She didn’t want to think about… well anything really, because everything would eventually trail back to the fact that she had to go to town. Town, where she might encounter someone who knew her and if she found someone who knew her there, that was the only way she could die.

            Why do I always think about death?

            Its irrational, no one will be there, because no one knows I’m here, that’s why I came here in the first place.

            But in the back of her mind, a picture would not cease to form.

            I hate you, Karol. She thought as she clapped her hands, burning away another blackberry bush.

______________________________________________________________

            Orwen was known for being fast, but right now he was mostly just frustrated. He had tracked slippery prey before, but Phoenix Alkaryl was one of a kind. Six months of searching had seemed only to deepen her cover, and he could still only narrow her location to about a quarter of The Sky, a pitiful performance by any Hunter, let alone The Nitehawk.

            Doesn’t matter how long it takes. I will find her.

            He was pouring over a map (the mirror laid just north of Levias) as he sat on the 11:45 ferry from Nerestar and Dorsinli, a convenient service which, 6 months ago, he couldn’t have used. He was glad the Free Cities were winning the war, if for no other reason than it made his job easier. Phoenix couldn’t be anywhere in Alliance territory, ever since he had killed Scout of the Seekers, the Alliance had closed their borders to all travel, Phoenix was supposed to be a good navigator, but no one got past Alliance gusters.

            If she’s this far off the map, she probably wanted to disappear. So, she probably went outward.

As he left the boat, he caught a glimpse of something he’d never seen before in an alley. A tall woman, wearing golden chainmail, one side of her face, covered in burns, with three of her limbs replaced with prosthetics. Their eyes met, and she smiled with one half of her face. A Valkyrie, they were all supposed to be on the Levian front. He tried to walk quickly away, but as he turned a corner, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Excuse me, you are the Nitehawk, yes? You’re looking for a girl named Phoenix, right? The one who gave you The Mark?”

“Indeed.”

“I know where to find her.”

______________________________________________________________

            Guarding Dere was hell, and Hywel had been booked for a full week of it. In a way, you could understand its plight, Hywel didn’t like to be cooped up either and Dere had been locked away for 150 years. But in every other way, well, the thing was pure evil. You could feel it, just standing near it, malice almost seemed to radiate off of the beast, and if you met its eyes, you saw nothing but two pools of absolute emptiness, not just nothing themselves, but threating to make you nothing as well. And its smile was dreadful, you knew it was happy with itself, and when you saw it smiling, you couldn’t even hate it, the hate would drain away before you could replenish it. All you could feel was nothing.

            And then there was its voice. It didn’t make any sound, you heard it in your head. It didn’t say anything of any consequence, but it seemed to know everything about you. Or sometimes it would say the most utterly outrageous things, but that was the trouble, after a while of hearing, you sometimes wouldn’t know the difference.

            It was evil. In its most concentrated and loathsome form. Precisely what the Seekers were out to eradicate. Or at least that’s what they said. In the last couple of years, they seemed to mostly be fighting in the war. Capturing and killing things like Dere was precisely what Hywel had signed up for. Though the job mostly consisted of long guarding of the one that had already been captured.

            Sometimes I hate this job.

            You know, if you’d be willing to make a deal, I could give you the power to do all the things you want. Just think of how much better the world could be if you had that power.

            I always hate you.

            It was going to be a long week.

______________________________________________________________

Chapter 3: A Long Week.

______________________________________________________________

            Hyla really didn’t constitute a city. But it was enough. Big enough that she could buy chickens and sheep. Big enough that her nerves would never rest. She was only there for a few hours, but her heart pounded the entire time. Her nerves acted up around any large group of people, but they were worse this week than ever. She was constantly reminded by her scars. This week one decade prior had given her so many. A particularly large one panged on her chest as she arrived back on the island, she’d killed the bear, but not before taking a swipe.

            Desperate for distraction, she started planting vegetables, with any luck, she’d get some potatoes before winter hit. Then it wouldn’t be as bad as that first winter she’d weathered. She worked furiously, and the potatoes were all planted within an hour, she’d thought it would take till nightfall.

            Ok, we’ll start building shelter then.

            She dug out a pit, which she preceded to thatch over with blackberries, a task that, blessedly, took her the rest of the week. It was not a complete respite from her thoughts and memories, but it provided some comfort. It wasn’t ideal, but it was critically big enough for all three of her new sheep. They wouldn’t do well outside with how cold outer ring winters could get. Even with her magic, Phoenix had not relished the idea of spending a winter without shelter.

______________________________________________________________             I probably shouldn’t trust her. The Valkyries were a very secretive organization, not known for good faith offerings of assistance. But I can’t just let her go.

            “Where?”

            “The city of Asera.” Asera made as much sense as anywhere else, a Free City on the outer ring with enough people to disappear into, but not enough that you would definitely get caught.

            “Why do the Valkyries know that?”

            “Alkaryl is of special importance to us, whenever she is spotted, we’re the first to know.” A little suspect that the Valkyries have more of a stake than the Hunters, but all right.

            “And why tell me?”

            “You ask a lot of questions.” She raised her eyebrow.

            “Well, sorry if you don’t look like a particularly reliable source.”

            “It’s her time to die.”

            “Thank you for the information.” Orwen turned to go.

            “You misunderstand, I am to accompany you.” Fine by him, passing up the help of one of the most feared fighters in the Sky would only hurt his mission.

            “All right, we leave at once then.”

            She shook her head “I have a few matters to attend to beforehand. Meet me by the northern gate.”

            Orwen tried to dispel his suspicions about the Valkyrie. His instincts were usually right, but he hadn’t slept in a while, and her story made sense, he needed her help to find Phoenix. But something still just wouldn’t sit right. He’d have to tough it out, for the mission.

            Traveling with Sharon was not pleasant, she seemed to be all business, and was pushing Orwen to go faster, despite the fact that he was travelling with almost three times the normal weight. Her face apparently never moved, and she refused to engage in any conversation that wasn’t complaining about how long Orwen’s Speed took to recharge (despite the fact that they were on track to cover two thousand miles in a week.) But thankfully, Orwen’s suspicions subsided, though that might have been more because he was collapsing into bed at the end of each day.

            But, after all this time, he was finally moving forward with his mission.

______________________________________________________________

            Hywel emerged from his Hell on the fifth day, after 4 sleepless nights in a row, facing two more, when respite finally came.

            “Hywel, you have been summoned to the Chamber.”

            “Thank you, and I’m sorry you have to deal with this thing now.” Hywel gestured to Dere fatalistically.

            “They’re coming with us.”

            “What?”

            The other seeker shrugged, unlocked the cage, and slipped Dere into some kind of collar “I don’t know, I was just told to get both of you.”

            Hywel was led to the doors of the Chamber and then was left with Dere’s leash.

            The doors into the Chamber felt especially heavy on Hywel’s tired hands as he pushed them open. He had been here many times before, but now of all times, it felt imposing. Dere’s whispers had not stopped.

            The Chamber was laden with the scent of old parchment paper and dead spells. It was deafeningly silent, except for a scribe scribbling minutes of the previous engagement, probably an execution, given the somber looks of the Council. They sat on a raised platform, overlooking the whole room, there were seven of them, and all of their choices were final.

“Hywel Sutherland. Seeker Honorable.”

            “I sir.” Hywel snapped to attention.

            “Do you know why you have been summoned?”

            “I was not informed, sir.” He looked up, the center councilmember was the one speaking, Garrel Satia, Killer of a Thousand foes. A garish title, but Hywel was in the presence of legends.

            “A great time has come upon us. For just yesterday a method has been discovered to eliminate the Demon of which you now hold the leash from this world.” Oh, this’ll be good, how do they think they’ll get rid of me this time… Dere’s voice echoed, Dere caught his eye, They try to do this at least once a year, don’t worry, it won’t work, but you might die anyway…

            As if to confirm the cat’s words, another councilmember spoke, Latise SeBorno. “And we are fortunate to have such a dedicated seeker as yourself at this time, for the ritual is not without sacrifice.”

             “You, Hywel Sutherland, Seeker Honorable, have been chosen for this purpose.” This is what they always do, sacrifice loyal subjects for a chance at killing the only thing they fear. By the way, my offer still stands, but this is one of your last times to take it. The last guy didn’t and they let the Nitehawk kill him.

            “What kind of sacrifice does the ritual entail?” Hywel asked.

            “If all goes well, it will leave you exhausted for days” Made up, killing a demon would drain anyone for years… “If the worst occurs, you may have to give your life.” You see?

            A third councilmember spoke up. “It is for this purpose that you have been tested, to prove your loyalty before we asked this of you.” You’ve been guarding my cell for five days, I thought they discovered it yesterday?

            “And what if I refuse?” In response to this question, all seven of them stood up.

            “THE COUNCIL HAS CHOSEN; ALL OF THEIR CHOICES ARE FINAL.”

            Is it too late yet Dere?

            Fortunately for you, it’s never too late to make a deal!

            Ok, I accept. His mind raced, but there was no time to think about this decision. Everything went black.

______________________________________________________________

            It opens its eyes.

______________________________________________________________

Chapter Four: A first eventful hour.

______________________________________________________________

            Two Levians were sitting at the bar. Phoenix studied them as she sipped on her drink, tea. She’d had to come into town to stock up on food, as winter had started early. Almost a month earlier than it should have. She’d been forced to come inside or be outside in a winter storm. So, she sat in the safest seat in the tavern, a lonely table with a view of the entire space and surveyed the Levians.

            She knew they were from Levias for a number of reasons. The first was that they were loud, she could listen to their conversation from across the room. The second was the woman’s jade earrings, unusual for this region. They had matching upper arm tattoos of a snake eating its own tail, which probably meant that they worked for the Levian government directly.

            These were highly unusual people to be here, but they didn’t seem like bounty hunters. If this hadn't been a very small town, she might have pegged them as tourists. They weren’t wearing rings, so probably not a married couple. They seemed like good friends though, which made Phoenix jealous, though she didn’t really think much of it. She took out her necklace, a piece of wood, polished so smooth that it could have been mistaken for a gemstone. It was a gift from her father, he’d given it to her after her sister died, he was already sick and said he didn’t think he’d last much longer. He died that night.

            “Hey, I really love your necklace.” Phoenix had drifted into her own thoughts and was stunned to see that the Levians had come over to her table. It was the girl who had given her the compliment.

            “Oh, oh, oh, umm, Thanks? I guess.” She stammered.

            “Sorry if I intruded, you were looking kind of sad, and then I saw that we have the same necklace.” The woman pulled out a necklace which was, in fact, almost identical to Phoenix’s.

            “Wow, uh, yeah, its cool.” Not to mention impossible, her father had never been to Levias. “How?”

            “What do you mean “how”?”

            “I mean, this necklace was given to me by my father, who had never been to Levias.”

            “Well, then he got it from someone else, because that’s the only place they’re made.”

            “Weird.”

            “You look like you have a lot of stories you could tell.” The large man commented.

            The woman shot him a look. “I’m sorry about Flynn, he means well but doesn’t understand social cues sometimes. We’ll leave you alone now.”

            “He’s not wrong, you can take a seat if you want.” She gestured to the empty chairs. “I’m Phoenix by the way.”

______________________________________________________________

            Sharon shook Orwen in the middle        of the night.

            He was awake.

            He was running.

He didn’t know what he was running from.

“Get down.”

They both dove.

He thought they had both dove.

His hands were tied behind his back.

            I probably shouldn’t trust her. Orwen’s own thoughts came back to him as he was struck on the head.

He woke up in a dark room, hands shackled to a wall.

            I failed.

            No, I cannot fail, I’ll escape this.

            These are Valkyries, there is no escaping this.

            I’m the freaking Nitehawk, I’ll find a way.

            His thoughts were muddled but quick, probably a concussion. He surveyed his surroundings as his eyes adjusted. He couldn’t make much out.

            Fuck this. He stomped at the ground angrily.

            The cell was small and cramped, with thick iron bars, the shackles were tight enough to cut into his wrists. No way to escape unless he was let out, no way they’d be stupid enough to do that.

            I will escape, I have to. He let out a scream of frustration. But this is going to set me so far back.

______________________________________________________________

            Hywel woke up with a pounding headache and a feeling like dread. But not for the future, but for the past.

            Yeah, the first time does that to you. There’s water on the table behind you, drink all of it. You’ll die if you don’t drink and eat enough, and neither of us want that yet. Dere’s voice in his head. But all he could think about was water.

            He found the jug and downed the entire thing. But when he looked up, he took a step back in shock.

            The scene before him was horror.

            He could recognize the walls of the Seeker complex, but the buildings had been leveled. Everything had been stained pitch black, like the aftermath of a wildfire, though Hywel knew this had been much, much worse.

            And its my fault.

            His entire world started spinning. He felt dizzy. This was his choice. Everyone was dead. It was his fault. His whole life was gone. He chose this. He must have known the deal wouldn’t end well. Everything he stood for, gone in a moment.

            Am I the bad guy now?

            This one question consumed his entire world as he collapsed back onto the ground.

______________________________________________________________

Chapter Five: A second eventful hour.

______________________________________________________________

            The woman had introduced herself as Persephone, and the large man was Flynn. They had plenty of stories of their own to tell, apparently it had been a while since they’d left Levias, and they’d gotten in no small share of trouble since.

            “And then less than an hour after we get rid of the dragon, what do we see, but a pirate flag. Luckily, our ship has wards for cannon fire, but these are pirates with trained dragons we’re talking about.” Flynn was busily recounting the story.

            “So obviously, we just hightail it out of there, we actually used the wind jar we got from the cyclops incident here, because, come on, pirates with dragons.” Persephone interjected to finish the story.

            “Skull and crossbones with wings? On a background somewhere between yellow and green?” Phoenix thought she knew the pirates in question.

            “Exactly.”

            “Well then, that’ll be Jorge Redbeard. Kinda a nasty guy, I hear it’s not even his natural beard color. I got captured by them once, not for very long, but I did see around the ship.” Phoenix leaned in. “Dragon droppings absolutely everywhere.”

            “Hilarious.”

            There was a pause in the conversation, but Phoenix didn’t want to stop talking.

            “So, what actually brings you all this way from Levias?”

             They looked at each other awkwardly, as if sharing a secret conversation through just their eyes, before Persephone apparently decided this was information that could be divulged.

            “It’s complicated, but the short version is that Flynn is suffering from a terrible disease. We’re looking for a cure.” The levity drained from Persephone’s face as she said this.

            “Oh”

            Flynn waved a hand dismissively “Don’t worry about me, I won’t die… at least not soon, I just can’t go back until I’m cured.” He acted like it was the most reasonable reaction in the world.

            “Where are you going?”

            “It’s a small village, named Ser, there’s a healer there, supposed to be the best.” Persephone was apprehensive.

            “I know him, and he is the best.”

            “How?”

            “It used to be my home.”

______________________________________________________________

            It wasn’t long before someone came to get Orwen. She unlocked the shackles but kept her hand tight on his wrist. Pushing him roughly forward. He didn’t struggle, there wouldn’t be much point yet, he’d been trained for situations like this, he had to follow that training.

            He was led into a large room lit by torches, with a big round table in the middle, surrounded by Valkyries, he could recognize Sharon across the table from him. He was sat down into a chair, and his hands were locked into another set of shackles.

            “Good job people. We caught him.” The Valkyrie in charge spoke to the others. “The Nitehawk, right in our trap.”

            “You just gonna keep gloating?” Orwen was practiced in keeping a calm demeanor.

            “You’re in no position to talk, you fell for it.”

            “I mean, it was a good plan, and lucky timing, you wouldn’t normally be able to do that.”

            “You’re just bitter.”

            “Are you ever gonna tell me why I’m here?”

            The goal was annoyance was keeping the idea that he was completely trapped. This was, of course, not true, these shackles were much looser, he could dislocate his thumbs and slide them right off. But that wouldn’t do him much good right now, surrounded and unarmed, he had to buy time.

            “Why so impatient? It’s not like you’ve got anywhere to go.”

            Orwen smiled. “Actually, you are detaining me from an important mission for the Hunters.” The training was working, and he’d just found his way out, an outward facing window, thirty feet up, not ideal, but workable.

            “Well, if you must know.”

            Monologuing? His respect for the Valkyries was dwindling by the second. The woman in charge was describing gruesome torture methods, but she was putting the implements on the table, about 3 feet in front of him. She had better get fired for such a lapse in judgement. Not that anyone less skilled than Orwen would be able to escape. Then it happened. The guard change, all six subordinate Valkyries filed out of the room through the opposite door, the new ones coming in only a second afterward, but a second was all he needed.

            “I’m really embarrassed for you here.” Orwen said before using Perfection.

            Everything started to move in slow motion. Then his hands were free, then the lead Valkyrie was hit over the head with a large set of thumbscrews. Then he grabbed a spear and vaulted, landing on a ledge 10 feet up. Just 20 more to go, he’d practiced the next move many times. He dashed to the corner, and then using his Speed, ran up the wall, catching the edge of the window and pulling himself up and over onto the other side. He didn’t have any speed left, but he didn’t need it. There was a direct line of sight from here to a dock with a small gondola. He stopped using Perfection, he didn’t need it anymore.

            Clean escape, that’s what they’d trained him for.

            Hywel woke up a second time, but this time, he just stared at the sky.

            I can’t be. I spent my whole life dreaming of fighting… what I am now?

            You’ll destroy yourself thinking like that, believe me I know.

            So, what do I do.

            Distract yourself, anything, I recommend getting off this island and getting us some food.

            I can’t just distract myself from the revelation that I am now everything I know to be wrong.

            What do you think demons have been doing all this time?

            It wasn’t a bad point, so Hywel went looking for a boat, whatever he was gonna do, he needed to get off this island.

______________________________________________________________

            Chapter 6: Godspeed.

______________________________________________________________

            It was decided that Phoenix would accompany Persephone and Flynn to Ser. It was a dangerous choice, Persephone and Flynn were still not much better than strangers, but Phoenix didn’t think that she could let them leave without her, during their conversation, something had stirred within her that she hadn’t felt in a long time, and now that she remembered it, it would be impossible to forget anytime soon.

            It was dumb, of course. She didn’t like it. She’d made the same mistake with Karol, and that had left her with a knife between her shoulder blades.

            But this felt different.

            Of course it did, this time she would take precautions. She wouldn’t let herself get too attached, and she’d remain ready to escape at a moment’s notice. She wouldn’t be trapped.

            Persephone and Flynn’s ship was massive, with three masts and several decks. The fact that they had been able to sail it with no extra crew meant that it almost certainly also had magic. It was truly a beautiful thing. And it was fast. Multiple times the top speed of Phoenix’s little gondola. They had enough space to pen up Phoenix’s animals, and within a day of the end of the storm, they had left for Ser, though, even with such a marvelous ship, traveling a hundred miles in outer ring winter would be nigh impossible without masterful navigation skills. Which was probably the only reason why she’d been invited along.

______________________________________________________________

            Three days and nights in a small gondola adrift in the clouds. Orwen preferred running to boating, but he was competent enough in an emergency, which this definitely constituted. Even though he’d escaped, he’d be hunted down if he wasn’t careful. That’s what had gotten him into this mess in the first place, carelessness, he hadn’t followed his training, he’d been too focused on that one thing that he’d gotten sloppy. He couldn’t afford to get sloppy. He needed to focus on everything all at once. He’d need to do this perfectly to have any chance at completing the mission.

            He finally arrived at his destination. He had no reason to believe that Phoenix was in Asera, but he did have a contact here that might be able to help. He’d been to Asera before, so he knew his way around, but between constantly checking to see if he was being followed and the fog that had been slowly encroaching on more and more of his waking hours due to lost hours of sleep, he missed turns constantly, and actually getting to his destination took him almost two hours.

            Three knocks on the door, pause, repeat, pause, repeat.

            The door was opened, and he was welcomed into a cozy little house with a fire roaring and a meal already cooking. He did not enter but stood in the doorway.

            “You look like absolute crap.”

            “Feel like it too.” Orwen longed to collapse into the guest bed, Bolson always kept it ready. “But I don’t have much time, I gotta get going soon.”

            “Chasing Phoenix still?” “You ought to stay and rest a little, you can’t bring her in in this condition.”

            “You forget who you’re talking to.”

            “All right, all right. You’re in luck, we just got word about her.”

            “Really, where?”

            “Our person trailing the crown prince of Levias saw her leave with them.”

            “So, she’ll be in Ser, and soon.” “That’s a ways away. I better get going. Thanks.”

            Orwen turned to leave.

            “Hey, remember not to run too fast, you’re gonna run yourself to death at this rate.”

______________________________________________________________

            Hywel had never been very good with boats, but he didn’t know where he was going anyway, so it didn’t matter that he went slowly.

            Where do I go?

            Big island, on the horizon, there’s houses, there’ll be food.

            I know, but after that where? I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.

            Just focus on now, get food, eat it, then you can think about where to go next.

            Do you ever think about anything other than food?

            I think of lots of things that I want.

            Ok, but anything other than what you want right now?

            No, what else would I think about?

            I don’t know. The future, the past, the people around you and what they need. Right and wrong.

            That’s complicated. I prefer food.

            I guess that makes sense. What did the Seekers call you things? Holes in the universe.

            And the very manifestations of hunger and lust, yes, you get it, I eat, and then I go find other things to eat.

            Hywel would not be finding any answers to his problems from Dere, but of course, it wasn’t like he could keep his thoughts to himself, he didn’t know exactly what had happened, but Dere was somehow… a part of him now.

            That’s why you’re evil, I guess. You can’t really be anything else. Unsatisfiable hunger never really helped anyone.

            It helped you.

            At what cost though? Is it even worth it? Considering that my life cost that of others?

        ��   This is why I focus on food. Anyway, we’re here.

______________________________________________________________

            Chapter 7: A Sight in the Distance.

______________________________________________________________

            Phoenix looked out from the crow’s nest of the ship across the sea of clouds. She didn’t have to be up here, it was a calm day, and the ship could essentially sail itself. She could have been down on the deck, where Persephone and Flynn were talking. She could be a part of that conversation.

            But she was anxious. She worried about whether this was really a good choice. Her instincts told her that getting too close to these people would end poorly. Like with Karol, and Seria. Her instincts had kept her alive this long.

            And yet…

            Another part of her longed to descend.

            Persephone looked up at the crow’s nest. Phoenix hadn’t come down in a while, she didn’t even think she’d gotten lunch. She was debating whether it would be better to bring her some food, or if she probably needed to be left alone.

            “You should go check on her.”

            “And have to climb all that way?”

            “You could always fly up, I really don’t understand the point of hiding that stuff from her, she seems trustworthy, it’s not like she’s gonna do anything bad to us.”

            “Remember that we’re taking precautions for you. You are way too important to risk like that.”

            “Ok, but we both know you’re gonna check on her. It’s your arms that have to haul you up there.”

            “You could probably throw me.”

            “Is that not more suspicious?”

            “I don’t know.” Persephone left to get some sandwiches.

            “You climbed all that way just to bring me sandwiches?”

            “Indeed, but mostly to check how you’re doing. You’ve been up here for a long time.”

            “Yeah.”

            Phoenix picked up a sandwich off the plate and started eating.

            “You like being alone?”

            “I don’t know if I’d say that.”

            “Then it’s probably just comfortable. You’ve been alone for a long time.”

            “Definitely that.” She took another bite.

            “And going back to Ser is dredging some stuff up.”

            “Going back to your home does that.”

            “It’s not my home, hasn’t been for a long time.”

            “I hear that. I could say the same for where I was born.” Persephone stared wistfully “I assume there’s no family waiting for you?”

            Phoenix shook her head. “I’ve been an orphan since I was 6.” “These sandwiches are really good.”

            Persephone could tell she didn’t want to talk about it. “Thanks, I make my own mustard.”

            Phoenix saw the island of Ser in the distance.

______________________________________________________________

            Orwen ran.

            The path he was taking had been built recently, to help move supplies for the war effort. Warpaths were always good for him; they took away the requirement for ferries.

            He was using every once of Speed he got, and walking in between uses. This wasn’t the healthiest way to do it, but it was the fastest. He could rest when he’d found her.

            He slept as little as possible. He needed regular sleep, or his Speed wouldn’t work, but he had to keep going. He was so close he could taste it. Several times he’d thought he’d seen Valkyries in the bushes. He didn’t know if he’d know if they were real.

            He was so tired.

            But he had to keep running.

            Run.

            Run.

            Run

            Run.

            Run.

            Run.

            Run.

            Fight.

            They were on him.

            He stabbed.

            They died; he’d hit his mark.

            Run.

            Run

            Run.

            Run

            Run.

______________________________________________________________

            Hywel ate. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was. He must have eaten every last crumb they had to offer.

            I guess having a demon inside you probably does that. Ok, I ate, now what do I do?

            Probably sleep.

            You’re no help.

            Hey, I just say what I’m feeling.

            Hywel just started walking. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but he hoped he’d know it when he found it.

            Possession seemed to have its merits. Even though he was constantly hungry and sleepy, he didn’t seem to need food or sleep to survive, or at least, he was able to walk without stopping or sleeping for 5 days straight, so that seemed to be the takeaway.

            He finally stopped only when he saw it. The front line of the war. A burning mass of shattered, quickly constructed defenses. They had recently lost a battle. He didn’t know which side they were, and though he might have cared sometime earlier in his life, he couldn’t care less now. All he saw were the dragons.

            You aren’t supposed to use dragons as weapons. In captivity they’re killing machines, and if they get loose, they cause immense amounts of damage, indiscriminately, but in the wild they are gentle giants, and rarely have negative encounters with anything other than sheep.

            The fact that there was a village this close to the front line was a tragedy enough. But there was a village, and dragons. Hywel had no more thoughts.

            It took seconds, or it seemed like seconds, for Hywel to get between the village and the dragons. He had climbed onto the tallest building in town. And he had his bow at the ready already. As soon as the closest beast was within range, the arrow fired, and then Hywel was on the dragon’s back. He didn’t know what he was doing, the power seemed to flow from instinct, not thought, the beast’s throat was torn out and he had leaped to another one.

            It was less than a minute before he landed, standing on top of the last dragon’s corpse, in the center of the village. The villagers didn’t cheer. They had been saved. But not by a hero, but by what was, to the vision of everyone, a monster.

______________________________________________________________

            It stirs in its nest, looking out over the city.

______________________________________________________________

            Chapter 8: Continuance.

______________________________________________________________

            Ser was not like Phoenix remembered. It was a warzone; a battle had broken out recently nearby. Keeping track of the front lines was an impossible task these days. Phoenix hesitated, Flynn and Persephone did not.

            They were immediately in the streets, telling people to get out, to go to their ship if there was nowhere else. Several houses had been hit by projectiles from the battle. Flynn quickly went to work getting people out of them.

            The Firethrower. That’s why the battle was here. Most towns didn’t have one, sole control over one made it almost impossible to attack you, but this town had little value outside of it. Phoenix was running, through the town, through the crowds of people. It was the major threat to the city, but it could be easily neutralized. Until she got to the battle scene.

            This is insane. That didn’t stop her. She threw herself into the mass of soldiers. She was adept at moving through crowds, and she wasn’t wearing the colors that would indicate to either side that she was an enemy. So, it didn’t take her nearly as long as it should have. She didn’t know why she was doing it. She wouldn’t normally risk herself like that. But there wasn’t time to think about that right now.

            The weapon was made of wood, it was trivial to set it alight with her power, though, given its size, it took a while to really start burning. She was outside the crowd of combatants before they started to realize what had happened. Both sides of the battle started retreating quickly, but as she looked back she saw sizeable groups of soldiers peeling off to follow her.

            Drat. She sprinted away as hard as she could. Some of them had horses, she wouldn’t be able to outrun them, but maybe she could get back to the ship before they thought to cut her off. The town looked to have been evacuated successfully. There was a throng of people on the dock. And Flynn and Persephone were… running toward her?

            “What are you doing?”

            “Coming to help you!” Flynn roared.

            “If you didn’t notice, there’s a full army, get to the ship.”

            “We can’t lead them that way, there’s innocent bystanders.” Persephone said.

            “We can’t exactly fight here.”

            “Watch us.”

            Phoenix stopped as she got to them and turned around to face the oncoming army. It was a hundred to three.

            “You’re gonna like this one.” Persephone smiled as she threw off her cloak, revealing a pair of sparkling butterfly wings, which started to flap, as she shrunk within seconds to the size of a squirrel.

            She flew straight towards the oncoming throng, reaching a fast speed before – Phoenix couldn’t believe her eyes – she grew not only to her original size, but fifteen times the size. Digging large furrows into the ground where she landed, and probably more importantly, scaring the horses, and some of the people too.

            “That buys us some time.” Flynn was right. They were chaos now. But it wasn’t over, as a few dozen foot soldiers were still running towards them. “It’s big and flashy, but she can’t maintain that size for very long, she expends enough of her power just staying human sized all the time.” “I don’t suppose you are good at one versus many fighting?”

            “Not really, requires touch.” She held up her hands to indicate she was talking about her powers.

            “Ah, well. I’m sure Persephone will understand that this was necessary. Probably be able to scare these guys off pretty easily.” He turned towards the oncoming soldiers; they were only about 60 cubits away now. He looked towards the sky, and his body started to change.

            Phoenix knew what they were trying to cure now. Ursanthropy.

            Faced with a twelve-foot tall werebear, the soldiers turned tail.

            That was intense. That was insane. Why did I do that?

            Persephone and Flynn were returning to their normal selves as they walked back.

            They didn’t hesitate. I guess I was just following them.

______________________________________________________________

            There was a point that Orwen got to where he couldn’t feel exhaustion anymore. He couldn’t feel anything anymore. All that was left was determination. He was so close, within mere hours, his mission would be complete.

            There was nothing left to think about but what he would do when he finally saw her face. As he sat eating his dinner – the last dinner before he got to her – he looked into his little mirror (for some reason the Valkyries hadn’t taken it.)

            Soon, it’ll all be worth it.

            He thought of what he’d say to her. What would be a suitable ending line for this, the greatest chase of his life.

            Phoenix Alkaryl, fleet of foot and strong of spirit. I am Orwen Desinor, the Nitehawk, master hunter. You have fled me for too long, but now it is time for this to come to an end.

            He pressed forward, less than a mile left to go.

______________________________________________________________

            Hywel ate and killed. It was all he could bring himself to do. There was a lot to kill in this part of The Sky, word of him quickly spread, he left quite the impression on those who saw him. He came to understand that people thought of him like a monster, that was how he saw himself, but they knew that if they pointed him in the direction of something evil, he would kill it, it was the only way he clung to the semblance of sanity he had left. He was able to convince himself that even if he was a monster, he could make himself a useful one.

            And Dere was happy to oblige this behavior.

            He caught a reflection of himself in a pool of water. A sunken face, despite all of the food he gorged himself on, he was emaciated. He was taller than he had been (now almost seven feet), but horribly thin, his skin (grey, or purple, or red, or yellow depending on where you looked) hung off of him in most places, as if it was made for a much larger man. His joints hung loose, constantly either horribly stiff or horrifyingly flexible.

            It reminded him of why he was doing what he was doing. He wanted to die, but he couldn't justify doing it in any other way. And so he ripped and tore through the other monsters in these islands, he didn’t know where he was anymore, but he didn’t care.

______________________________________________________________

            Chapter 9: Face to Face.

______________________________________________________________

            Qualos wasn’t there. He had died months before, not from the war, but of consumption, the same thing that had killed Phoenix’s father and sister years before. There had been an outbreak, leading to the deaths of dozens of people. There wasn’t anyone left who cared about Phoenix’s exile. Which should have been a relief, it was convenient for her. But she couldn’t be happy about death.

            The damage from the battle wasn’t huge, all things considered, only a few people were injured, and the people who lived in the destroyed houses found other places to stay, at least for the time being. But there was quite a bit to do, and it was almost an hour after the fighting had stopped before Flynn and Persephone approached Phoenix again.

            “So, I’m guessing you have questions?”

            “Not really, I think the fact that you’re a fairy with growth powers and Flynn is a Werebear is evident enough.”

            “That’s not exactly it though.”

            “Hmm.”

            “Flynn is also the crown prince of Levias.”

            “Nice.” Phoenix smiled. She wasn’t especially surprised, the giant fairy thing had kind of prepared her for anything. “Ok, so we got a disgraced prince in exile until he can find a cure for his Ursanthropy, and his guardian slash best friend, the two-inch-tall fairy who pretends to be a human but can also be the size of a giant. Anything else?”

            “That’s essentially it.” “None of that is surprising you?”

            “I’ve had a weird life. Traveling thief isn’t a career for the faint of heart. And honestly, that’s a pretty logical explanation for two Levians with a massive, fancy ship traveling alone to a tiny village at the edge of The Sky.”

            “So where do we go now?” Flynn asked. “I mean, this is a dead end.”

            “For a cure for Ursanthropy?” “The only other possibility is Core.” “That’s a long way though. We need to leave as soon as possible.” Phoenix started towards the ship, she didn’t really want to spend any more time here than necessary, there was no closure here anymore to the pain this town had caused her.

            “Is there nothing else you want to do while we’re here?” Persephone asked.

            “Nope, I told you, this used to be my home.”

            “Well, we can’t leave just now, we have to buy some supplies if we’re going on that long of a trip.”

            Phoenix settled on wandering around the town for a few hours, she’d be couped inside the ship for long enough soon.

______________________________________________________________

            She was right there. He could see her. The journey was over, there was only one thing left for Orwen to do.

            “Phoenix Alkaryl, strong spirited and fleet of foot. I am Orwen Desinor, the Nitehawk. You have fled for a long time, but it is time for this to end. Have you any final words?”

            “Orwen! Nice to see you! It’s been a while.” Phoenix turned around. “Nice speech. A few comments. First, my name is Alkaryl, it’s Liventis, Alkaryl was my mother, though you Hunters probably only have us under her name from the military records. Second, you will not be capturing me today.” She held her dagger close. This would be a hard fight. But he would be attempting to take her in alive, which she knew wasn’t his specialty. She clapped her hands as she said “Ok, let’s do this.”

            This was a distraction tactic, intimidation like this was a Hunter thing. He ignored her and started channeling Perfection he was low on both of his powers, he needed to get this over quickly. And he only had one knife, so throwing was out. He closed the distance quickly, ducking under her first attack and jabbing into her stomach, before dashing back out of reach.

            She was clutching her side where he had stabbed her, but also… smiling? “You’ll have to do better than stabbing old wounds.” Indeed, as she took her hand away from her side, she revealed a charred hole in her shirt, and underneath a large amount of old scar tissue, and the newly cauterized wound.

            He dashed back in, he couldn’t sustain Speed or Perfection much longer, he needed to end this now. Her knife was red hot as she took a swing at him. A torso strike wouldn’t do much to her, she was apparently practiced fighting through the pain, maybe if he hit her wrists? He ran out of Speed, he should have saved some up, but he had been in a hurry. He was still able to perfectly parry the knife, knocking it out of her hands. He turned to strike at her body again as he saw his fatal mistake, with no speed left to dodge it. He’d been focused on the knife; he hadn’t looked at her other hand. It landed on his shoulder, red hot. He blacked out from the pain, he barely had time to scream.

            He had failed.

______________________________________________________________

            Dere saw fear. Hywel saw justification. Or at least a route to it. It was a horrifying scene. Thankfully Hywel knew it wasn’t happening, yet this was the future.

            People screamed. The streets ran red with blood. Hywel didn’t know what was going to cause it, but he thought Dere did. It didn’t matter, he knew he could stop it.

            A beast lingered over the bodies of the people it had slain, licking its lips. Hywel almost cheered. This was what he was looking for. If he was to be a monster, if all that he would be able to do was kill, he could kill this thing, he got the sense that it was the biggest monster of all.

            It cannot be killed. Dere’s voice was panicked. Do not look for it, you will die.

            I think that’s the goal.

            No, you cannot kill this, it is not some small beast. Even we fear it.

            Well, if demons fear it, then it must be evil. Maybe I can find the justification I’m looking for.

            Do you know what happens to me if you die?

            You’ve been fine with it until now.

            Only because you haven’t been after things that I couldn’t beat. That’s no dragon, that’s… IT.

            Well, we better find a way to kill it. Because I’m doing it either way.

            Hywel saw where it would happen, Core. And then he thought he saw It look right at him.

______________________________________________________________

            Chapter 10:

______________________________________________________________

            “We can’t really do anything else except wait for him to wake up.” Persephone had treated Orwen’s burn. It wouldn’t heal completely, Phoenix had only touched him for a second, but the heat had immediately caused a bright white handprint to form, and parts were brown or almost black. “It’s a pretty bad burn, and I think that he was already pretty exhausted, but he should survive.”

            “How long until we’re able to leave?”

            Persephone knew what Phoenix meant; she didn’t want to be here when Orwen woke up. “I don’t want to leave him here; this town doesn’t have anyone trained enough to treat him.” “If that gets infected, and no one is here to help him, he’ll die.” “And quick or not, he can’t get himself to the next town.”

            Phoenix understood that Persephone didn’t want to be responsible for his death, Phoenix didn’t want to either, especially not in this town, but still... “So, we just take him with us?” “Did you forget he tried to kill me?”

            “Yeah, if we’re going to go, we should take him.“ Persephone looked over at where Flynn was “and we need to leave.” She looked at Phoenix “look, I get that you don’t want to travel with him, maybe this is where we leave you.”

            Phoenix balked at that, but she didn’t know why. Yeah, that was the most logical answer. But, for some reason…

            She shook her head “no, you need me if you’re going to navigate all the way to Core.” She was fighting to stay with these people? She’d fought long and hard to get to where she was, she’d gotten paid already, she should just let them go and go back to her little island. Was she really going to choose traveling with the assassin that had hunted her for months.

            Yes, yes, she was. “Look, so long as he’s injured, I don’t think he poses much of a threat. As soon as he can walk though, we drop him off.”

            “Absolutely. And we can keep him in a locked room too.” Persephone smiled; she was glad Phoenix wanted to stay with them. “Hey Flynn, come over here, help me get this guy loaded up so we can leave.”

______________________________________________________________

            Orwen didn’t wake up for almost a day, when he did, he was on his stomach on a large, soft bed in the belly of a rocking ship. His entire back ached, but the pain was by far the worst on his left upper back. He tried to get out of bed, but twisting his body only made it much worse.

            “I wouldn’t try that” Persephone brought in some food. “your left shoulder sustained some nasty burns.” “We definitely need to keep you in bed for at least a few days.”

            “Who are you? Also, where am I?”

            “Oh, yeah, that. Well, we couldn’t exactly just leave you in a town with no doctors with that kind of burn. But we really needed to get going. So, we brought you on board.” “I’m Persephone by the way.”

            “Do you know where Phoenix went?”

            “She’s here too. But I wouldn’t try anything.”

            “She’s here!? Why would you let me travel with her?” Orwen was ecstatic, though confused, maybe he hadn’t failed after all.

            “The other option was to essentially leave you for dead. No one wanted that.”

            Kinda stupid, I would have left her for dead in a heartbeat. But I probably need to pretend to play along for now.

            “All right, I assume I’m at least locked in this room though?”

            “And your daggers are locked up in a closet on the other side of the ship, yeah, we weren’t gonna take that chance.”

            Persephone left, and Orwen started eating his food, he’d be coming up with some sort of plan to complete the mission, but for now, he needed to sleep, his back was killing him.

______________________________________________________________

            Hywel finished climbing the hill. Core was a long way away, so he’d need to pace himself. He’d made good progress; he’d walked nearly 40 miles over the last couple of days. Though, at some point he would have to find a way to increase the pace, he’d probably need to get a ship, he had a sense that what he’d seen would happen in a matter of months, and he needed to travel a lot.

            As he knelt beside the pond, he scooped up some water to drink, he hadn’t had a sip in weeks, he didn’t need it. And he looked at his reflection.

            It was, better, or at least, less bad. The color was starting to return to parts of his face, and the bags under his eyes had shrunk significantly, he’d slept for the first time in a while. His increased height had not diminished, he still stood almost seven feet tall, compared to his natural 5 foot 4, but he looked significantly less emaciated.

            What has happened to me? Is it really newfound purpose, or am I just getting used to being a monster?

            Dere remained silent, he suspected he was being given a form of cold shoulder for his choice.

            He was still drenched in blood, so he used this opportunity to bathe. His clothes were mostly ruined, and none of them fit well anymore.

            I need to get new ones; I’ll need to be some manner of presentable if I expect to be able to get a ride to Core.

            His hair had grown ragged, it was long, but it had been falling out in tufts. He was surprised to see that he still he still had his dagger. He cut as much of the hair off as he could, better bald than patchy. He left his beard.

            Wait, that’s odd, I couldn’t grow one before.

            Sometimes that happens. Dere spoke up for the first time in a while. If your hair comes back, it might come back curly too. Possession does weird things to human bodies.

            Oh, I hear you’re speaking up again.

            Just here to remind you that if you are doing hygiene, you should trim your nails, they look like claws.

            Indeed, they did.

            You deciding to be helpful all of a sudden?

            Maybe if we get you back in civilized society, I can convince you not to kill yourself.

            Not a chance. Hywel smiled as he scrubbed the blood from beneath his fingernails, the first time in at least two months that he had smiled. But I appreciate the sentiment.

______________________________________________________________

Chapter 11: A long trip

______________________________________________________________

            Phoenix sat on the deck, this area of the sky was calm, which meant slow going, but also not a lot to do as a navigator, so she was sharpening her knife.

            “It’s a beautiful thing, glad to see you’re keeping it in good shape.” Flynn sat down beside her.

            “It’s broken, it used to be able to fold, it also used to have a wooden handle.” Repetitive heat had fused the tang and the blade together, she’d had to weld additional metal onto it several times to keep it usable, the handle had now been shaped to almost exactly fit her hand.

            “Put another way, it’s been shaped into exactly the right shape for its use.” “Weapons designed for magic have to be unique, that’s what makes them beautiful.”

            “Every time I use it in battle, I have fix it up again, otherwise the blade warps.”

            Flynn nodded “yeah, it’s a lot of work to hone after every fight, but what you get in return is a perfectly natural tool. I’ve seen how you fight; you use that knife like an animal uses claws, I would know.” He balled his hands up into fists.

            “How does it feel?” Phoenix asked.

            “Being a Werebear?”

            “Yeah, that”

            “It’s not bad. It’s never been the being so much as the being seen as that’s the problem.” “When I actually transform, all I feel is the power of it, like I can do anything I want to.” “That’s kind of the worst part too, is coming out of it, and not feeling that anymore.”

            “Feeling like you can’t actually change anything that matters.”

            “Yeah, that”

            “And then comes the fear, that you’ll be trapped, and something bad will happen to you.”

            “I don’t know about that; I’ve been living on borrowed time for a while. It’s more so feeling that I’m trapping her.”

            “Persephone?”

            “Yeah, she cares a lot, and she’s determined that I have to survive.”

            “You won’t die though.”

            “Not from ursanthropy directly, no, but my father, as much as he pretends. Well, we think he’s the one sending people after us. We talk a big game, but we barely survived the last attack, I don’t think we, I, make it all the way to Core.”

            “He would do that?” Phoenix was astounded.

            “He was willing to when we were back in Levias, said he ‘couldn’t allow exceptions to the rule of law’, even for his own son.” “I think he’s always seen me as less than my brothers, might have just been looking for an excuse.”

            “I can’t even imagine that.”

            Flynn smiled, trying to cut the gloominess of the conversation “don’t feel too bad, at least I got to grow up as a prince.”

            “I mean, that doesn’t make any of that less tragic…”

            “I don’t care that much, I’ve just kinda dealt with it.”

            “That doesn’t work.”

            Flynn raised an eyebrow.

            “Running from your feelings I mean.” “Believe me, I’ve tried.”

            “I wouldn’t call it that… I’ve just got, thick skin, that’s it.” “It doesn’t get to me.”

            “Must be nice.”

            “You’ve been running though?”

            “Until it catches up with me.”

            “And then you fight like a cornered animal.”

            “That’s one way to say it.”

            “Like, not trying to kill it, just make it go away.”

            “I don’t like killing.”

            Flynn nodded. “Does anyone really like it?”

            “The last time I killed I broke my dagger.”

            “That must be a good story.”

            Phoenix looked at him seriously, “it was a bear, it almost killed me, gave me this” she pulled her sleeve up to reveal a nasty bite mark on her shoulder “but I killed it. I don’t like killing, so I haven’t killed since, I just run, and when I’m cornered.” “Well, if you don’t want to kill, you have to learn to inflict pain instead.”

            “A lot of it.”

            “Yeah, that.”

______________________________________________________________

            Orwen lay in bed. The room had no windows, which, on a boat this fancy looking, probably meant it was toward the bottom. The walls were likely to sturdy to have a hope of breaking through, and there was no access to the door lock from this side, so picking wasn’t going to be an option. The only way he would be able to break out would be to jump Persephone when he brought him his food. If he did that, he could probably escape, assuming they didn’t have someone watching for him immediately outside the door.

            His wound had healed considerably since he had come aboard the ship, but he strictly speaking still needed more rest. This, combined with his reluctance to assault Persephone, she seemed like such a nice person, led him to conclude that his best chance for completing the mission lay in a more, diplomatic approach. Gain their trust, lead them as close to Hunter headquarters as possible, and then bring Phoenix in at the last possible minute. He probably also wanted to save as much Speed and Perfection as possible. That meant sleep and food, easy enough, whoever was cooking the food was an amazing chef.

            “I hope you’re hungry” Persephone walked in, talking in the sweet, almost sing-song tone she usually used with him, “we’ve got something delicious today, Phoenix made Borscht, I hear it’s a family recipe.”

            “Does Phoenix normally cook? I’ve been wondering who it was.”

            “Ever since we found out she’s absolutely amazing at it, we’ve refused to even touch a pot.”

            After he tasted the soup, wonderfully meaty, he said “probably the right call.”

            “From what I can tell, she just appreciates having this full of a set of ingredients.” “How’s your shoulder?”

            “Much better, thank you. It’s been feeling better every day.”

            “Well,” she turned to leave “let me know if you need anything else.”

            “Hey, Persephone”

            “Yes?”

            “Seriously, thanks for doing this for me, most people I know wouldn’t.”

            She walked away smiling. Exactly what Orwen needed.

______________________________________________________________

            Hywel ran now. He had avoided crossing the war line before, but he could no longer. But the borders were closed, so there wasn’t an easy way to get across. And what was more troubling was that he had alerted seekers to his location. They had been tracking him down, whatever remnant of the Seekers was left apparently had capturing him as their first priority.

            So, he was running, both from half a dozen trained Seekers and a large contingent of soldiers, who had at least a few boats. Thankfully, the wind was low today, so the boats couldn’t outrun his enhanced speed. He would have been captured ages ago if not for a confluence of lucky factors. He would almost definitely be captured soon, he knew where he was, and he had studied this area, Seekers were required to know the general layout of all the land around the war line. This road was old and would run out in less than a mile.

            He didn’t want to have to fight them. They didn’t stand a chance, with Dere’s help he could probably have plowed through the entire alliance army, but he wouldn’t be able to avoid killing them, enough people had died needlessly because of him already.

            So, he’d have to figure out a way to escape.

            There’s the end of the road. Nothing within a thousand feet.

            Two thousand feet out, there’s a rock, with a running start I can get you most of the way, and then shoot an arrow.

            If I’m even a little short though…

            You could always turn around and fight!

            No.

            He stopped about a dozen feet short of the edge, turned around and surveyed the oncoming army, and then he looked over the edge, nothing. If he fell, he would be falling forever.

            I wouldn’t take that risk if I were you, you have choices here. Instead of throwing yourself over the possible suicide gap, you could stand and fight or let yourself get captured and break out later.

            Hywel took a deep breath. No, if I want to believe I can be redeemed, there is no choice.

            He backed up and took a running start. With Dere’s power, he launched himself across 100 feet, 500 feet, 1000, 1500, he just had to shoot this arrow 250 feet, not the easiest, but he could do it.

            He knocked the arrow, drew, and shot. It raced toward that solitary rock…

            And missed.

______________________________________________________________

Chapter 12: Impossibilities

______________________________________________________________

            The wind had picked up, it was howlingly fast, the middle ring was known for wild changes in weather, but this was stronger than Phoenix had seen in a long time.

            “If this keeps up, we’ll be in Dorsinli this afternoon.” She had to shout to be heard over the wind.

            “Really? It feels like we just left Nerestar.” Flynn shouted back. It had taken three weeks to get from Ser to Nerestar, but only four days to get to where they were. “We’re making good time!”

            “Remember that the distance from the middle ring to the inner ring is longer, and from the inner ring to Core, that’s going the feel interminable.”

            “That’s not what the map shows.”

            “I forget that you haven’t been farther in than the capital of Levias.” “Let me finish tying this up then I’ll come down and explain it.” The sail needed to be secured better, she finished tying the knot and then quickly climbed down the netting.

            “Ok, so this is weird for people who were born on the Outer Ring, like us, but I forget that they don’t teach it in Levias, given that it only has territory in the Outer Ring.” “As you get closer to the middle of the map, it gets less accurate.”

            “Couldn’t they just draw the map better.”

            “No, see, there is no actual middle of the Sky. The radius is infinite.”

            “How does that work?”

            “No one really knows, but if you walk towards where the middle would be, you just find more sky. So, as you get closer to the middle, the map can’t be drawn right, because the circumferences of concentric circles still decrease.”

            “That’s not geometrically possible” Flynn looked at Phoenix with a side eye.

            “Thus, why the map doesn’t show it. But anyway, what it means is that each ring is significantly smaller around than the outer ones but the chords across them are increasingly long with respect to their circumferences.”

            “Wait, wouldn’t that mean that they get to the point where its quicker to go around the circle than across it.” Flynn looked fully confused.

            “Indeed, it depends on how far in the middle ring, but in the inner ring, every two points can be reached in less distance by a circular path than a straight one through the inside.”

            “Hey Persephone, have you heard this before?” She’d just gotten back from taking Orwen his food.

            “What is it?”

            “I was just explaining hyperbolic space to Flynn here.”

            Persephone’s face scrunched up in disgust. “I’m so glad I don’t have to navigate anymore.”

            “Yeah, it only gets worse as you get further in, but it’s that or stay here with the bad weather.” Phoenix had learned the hard way, navigating by yourself out of even the middle ring was insanity.

            “Hey Phoenix, Orwen wanted to say something to you.” “I told him you probably wouldn’t come.”

            “Can I have Flynn outside the door?”

            “Sure, I’ll stand guard.”

            “Then there’s not much to worry about.”

______________________________________________________________

            Orwen was surprised to see Phoenix come in.

            “You came?”

            “Yeah, there’s not much reason not to. I don’t have a lot else to do today.”

            “I just wanted to say”

            “You’ll say you’re sorry, I honestly don’t believe you. And it’s ok by the way. For you to hate me. I’d rather be on a ship with a thousand people who hate me openly than one who pretends to like me.”

            Orwen opened his mouth to speak, but Phoenix raised a hand. “And don’t say it was only professional, we both know that’s not true; no one runs themselves that ragged for a job.”

            I do sometimes Orwen thought probably too often, but there was no point in trying to convince Phoenix that he was, merely, following orders. “You’re right, it was personal.” “Still is. You have to know I still want to take you in.”

            “Yeah, I figured that.”

            “So, why’d you agree to travel with me.”

            “It’s my principal flaw. I get too attached to people, I can’t leave.” She shrugged “They betray me, or they leave.” She said it in a nonchalant tone. “That’s why I have so many of these.”

            “You know I could kill you right now if I wanted.”

            “Oh, believe me, I know. But I’m not stupid, I wouldn’t have come if I thought there were a chance of that.” “You have to take me in alive.”

            He did indeed.

            “Not that alive.”

            Phoenix chuckled at that one. “Hey, can you walk yet? I wanna show around the ship.”

            “Now why would you do such a thing? I just threatened to kill you.”

            “Oh, you’re so serious about the whole assassin thing. Its gonna grind your gears so hard to know you can’t bring me in yet.”

            That much was true, it frustrated him to no end, but he wanted a distraction, and this sort of played into his plan. Though, what Phoenix had said about people betraying her got to him a bit. Just a bit. “Yeah, I can walk, let’s see it.”

______________________________________________________________

            Hywel was only falling for a minute, but it felt like an eternity, by the time he realized that the first arrow had missed, he had no time to shoot another.

            Well, this is how it ends, I guess. At least I’m taking you down with me.

            He must have been almost a mile below the island when he felt a firm grip on the back of his shirt.

            “Well, thank goodness, you’re a lot lighter than you look.”

            He looked up, astonished to see a woman with two giant feathered wings sprouting from her back. She could only be described as radiant, quite literally seeming to glow, as if something within her could not be contained, and was struggling to be free.

            She managed to drag him all the way up to the rock he had been aiming for. They could see the soldiers gathering at the end of the path.

            “Ah, don’t worry about them, we’re almost past the border already, they won’t chase us any farther.” “I’m Karol by the way.”

            “Hywel” “How, how did you find me?”

            “If you didn’t notice, everyone on this side of the Sky has been following you for almost a month. I’ve been tailing you for a while, to make sure you don’t do anything stupid, like taking a plunge into the Void.”      “Hey, I’d love to chat later, but we need to get going, they won’t follow us across the border, but we have about 1000 feet left.”

            They traveled a pretty good distance, the rocks were close enough now that Hywel could jump between them.

            “Sorry if this is offensive” Hywel started talking almost as soon as they had stopped “but what’s with the wings?”

            “A recent thing, possession works weirdly.”

            “Wait, you have a demon too?”

            She raised an eyebrow “you don’t know much about how this stuff, do you?”

            “Not a demon, then?”

            She shook her head “no, demons are spirits of emptiness. Mine is a devil, a spirit of fullness, of bursting and limitless possibility.”

            You’ve been awfully silent about this whole affair Dere.

            Demons and Devils don’t mix. We kill each other.

            “That seems infinitely preferable to mine.”

            “Oh, it is, I wouldn’t have hunted down a demon.”

            “You mean, you actually wanted to be possessed?”

            “It’s a marvelous power, I wanted to be strong, so I could help people, I failed before.” “I think you’re the same, we both want to cleanse the world of its evil. That’s why I followed you.”

______________________________________________________________

@brokendarkfairyempressforever

@hijabi-flavored-nerd

I fixed a few things. Its almost 13 thousand words now, by far the longest thing I've ever written, and getting close to the halfway point plot-wise, which means that technically this will probably end up at Novella length (Its already 30 pages in the Word document I'm writing in).

Actually, I'm gonna tag some of my other mutuals as well, I won't tag you again though unless you want to...

@queenpiranhadon

@nervousscissorsgoopthing

@betanian117

@justalunaticfangirl

@shrxe