#i’ve been found guilty of being too hot and funny unfortunately

[kinardbuckleys]

when i find out more people blocked me

[timelesslords]

Girl’s Night

Read on AO3

In which Annabeth has a little too much wine at Girl's Night and feels very guilty about it. Thankfully, Percy doesn't mind taking her home.

Annabeth Chase was very good at holding her alcohol.

In all honesty it was mostly because she didn’t drink that much to begin with. Being drunk had never been all that appealing to her— years of being on edge for the next fight made it difficult for her to intentionally dull her senses, and she never liked how foggy it made her brain either. Living in New Rome for the past few years hadn’t completely squashed those instincts, despite its top of the line anti-monster security.

But still. Annabeth could keep it together pretty well, when she chose to indulge. She’d gone to a few wild parties earlier in college, mostly at Piper’s behest, and she didn’t mind having a few glasses of wine every once in a while.

Girl’s Night was every once in a while. Every first Friday of the month, if you wanted to be exact about it. In all honesty the practice was probably a bit dumb and middle aged for a bunch of people (and, okay, ‘a bunch of people’ was generous- it was really only Piper, Annabeth and Hazel) in their early twenties, but Annabeth didn’t care. It was hard to keep up with people these days, and Annabeth appreciated the emphasis on female camaraderie and friendship.

Plus, Piper had really stellar taste in wine.

Tonight’s had been especially good, and after a long and stupidly stressful week at school (Annabeth wished she could emulate Percy’s senioritis, but unfortunately the Architecture program only got harder as it went on, not easier) Annabeth found herself a little extra appreciative of the relaxing effects of alcohol.

It seemed like all of them had had a tough week, because they were all buzzed pretty fast. Piper was even happy to deliver the latest Hollywood gossip, courtesy of her dad, and Hazel was telling them a story about a probie getting stuck in the unicorn stables that made Annabeth laugh so hard she was practically sobbing. Piper and Hazel were not much better; Piper had completely fallen off the couch from cracking up so hard, and Hazel could barely get a word in edgewise before she completely dissolved into giggles again.

It was then that Annabeth caught a glance of the two completely empty bottles of wine in front of them, and realized that all of them— though mostly she, specifically— had made a grave mistake. She had no idea how many times her own glass had been filled and then subsequently emptied, but it was enough that she was well past tipsy and solidly in drunk territory.

It was hard to care about the bad parts of being drunk when you were currently drunk, Annabeth was finding. Everything was just so much funnier.

Apparently Jason had also sensed that they were drunk, or maybe he just had heard the deranged cackling coming from the living room, and wanted to make sure they were all still alive.

“Are you guys alright?” he asked, sticking his head through the doorway.

“I’m fantastic. I mean, I don’t know about you two, but I am—” Piper paused, letting out a small hiccup, “Feeling awesome.”

“I feel great,” Hazel agreed, barely able to stop laughing long enough to let the words out.

Annabeth wasn’t sure she remembered how to form coherent words anymore, so she just gave a thumbs up.

“You guys are really drunk,” Jason said, voice an impressive mix of concern and amusement. He walked into the room, picking up one of the empty bottles of wine they’d left on the table and examining the label.

“That’s my man. Very smart,” Piper said, apparently completely seriously, leaning against Jason’s leg.

“Pipes, you realize this wine is like, 20%, right?” Jason asked, ignoring her declaration of his intelligence.

Piper frowned. The expression seemed very exaggerated, or maybe Annabeth’s head was just messing with her. It was very funny either way, and she had to stifle a laugh.

“Shut up Annabeth. Let me see that,” Piper said, holding her hand up for the bottle. Jason very wisely did not let Piper hold the bottle herself, instead holding it at eye level in front of her. She gripped the bottom of it, pulling it towards her and squinting at the label.

“Nevermind. I can’t read anymore,” Piper said, relinquishing her grip on the bottle. That sent Hazel and Annabeth into another fit of laughter. They would probably be drunk even if the wine wasn’t that strong, but it certainly explained why Annabeth felt like she was floating right now. She hadn’t been this wasted since at least freshman year, maybe ever. Everything was a little blurry at the edges, and she was dizzy in a kind of delightful way. She let out one last giggle.

“And that means we are officially at the me-calling-your-boyfriends time of the night,” Jason said, setting the bottle back down on the table. Piper groaned.

“Party pooper,” she grumbled, though she didn’t move herself off his legs.

“Sorry babe,” he said, apologetically, “You guys are welcome to crash here, obviously. I’ll just call Frank and Percy to let them know.”

“S’fine,” Hazel said, yawning and pulling out her phone, “I’ve been texting him. I’ll just tell him now.”

“That’s against the spirit of Girls Night.” Piper said, pointing an accusing finger at Hazel, “You’re a cheater.”

“I had to tell him about your dad’s friend secretly dating his co-star! She was in his favorite movie!” Hazel protested.

Annabeth had not texted Percy tonight, in part because, as Piper had said, it was against the spirit of Girl’s Night, but also because he was probably asleep. Usually he’d stay up and wait for her to get home, even though New Rome was probably the safest city on the face of the planet, and the chances of anything happening to Annabeth on the six block walk between their respective apartments was ludicrously slim. But he’d been practically dead on his feet when she left, and had agreed pretty easily to turn in early when she suggested it.

She immediately felt bad about the prospect of waking him up. She knew she should though— he’d much rather be woken up in the middle of the night than wake up in the morning with her not there. Even though it would take about three seconds to check his phone and realize everything was fine, old habits die hard and it would unnecessarily stress him out. Especially since it was the one night he’d agreed not to stay up and wait for her.

So waking him up was inevitable. Worse, she was starting to realize that she really wanted to be home with him. As comfortable as Piper’s floor was (and given how drunk Annabeth was, it was genuinely pretty comfortable) she just really wanted to be in her own bed, preferably with Percy also in it.

“Annabeth’s gonna want to go home,” Piper predicted, drawing Annabeth out of her thoughts, “She gets boyfriend clingy when she’s drunk.”

“I do not,” Annabeth said, even though she most definitely did.

“You’re a bad liar,” Hazel said, patting Annabeth’s leg sympathetically.

“I’m an excellent liar,” Annabeth said. Under normal circumstances this would be true. Unfortunately being drunk was not normal for her.

“Uh huh.” Piper said, “Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want Percy to come pick you up.”

Annabeth looked into Piper’s eyes, currently a very pretty green shade. Not as pretty as the shade of green Percy’s eyes were, but nice, for eyes that were not Percy’s. What was she supposed to be doing again?

“This feels like a trick,” Annabeth said, squinting.

“She wants Percy to pick her up,” Piper said, tugging at Jason’s pant leg.

“Yeah, I got that,” Jason said. Annabeth was pretty sure he was laughing at them, but in her current state it was a little hard to tell. “Let me go get my phone.”

Piper whined as Jason walked away, leaning back against the couch.

“Can you even walk, Chase?” she asked, looking dubiously at Annabeth “He’s going to have to carry you home.”

“I can walk,” Annabeth said, very offended even though she didn’t entirely know if her statement was true. Piper snorted.

“You’re lucky Percy is strong.”

“This is all your fault, McLean. Don’t think I’ve forgotten,” Annabeth said, aiming a soft kick at Piper’s leg.

“Okay, in my defense I didn’t read the label,” Piper said, pulling her leg back just in time to avoid Annabeth’s foot.

“How is that a defense?” Hazel asked, though she was giggling.

Piper did not have time to further defend and/or implicate herself, because Jason appeared in the doorway again.

“Percy’s coming, he’ll be here in ten.”

“Was he mad?” Annabeth asked anxiously. Piper rolled her eyes.

“I don’t think Percy is physically capable of being mad at you,” she said.

“He thought it was funny, actually,” Jason said, ignoring Piper.

“Told you so,” Piper said smugly.

“Shut up,” Annabeth grumbled.

The next ten minutes passed in a very drunken blur. Now that she had fully realized she was intoxicated, the feeling only seemed to compound, each uncounted drink catching up to her with a reckless abandon. She was vaguely aware of Piper crawling back on the couch to lie down, and Hazel curling up in an armchair. Annabeth just stayed on her little patch of floor. If she got too comfortable, she wasn’t going to want to get up.

She could feel something anxious starting to prickle under the surface of all her artificially happy feelings, but it was sort of difficult to dissect when she couldn’t really think straight.

“Hey, Wise Girl,” a familiar voice said.

Annabeth looked up to see Percy smiling down at her. He looked so pretty she almost started crying. Almost. Crying as a normal human function was fine and good and emotionally necessary and all that, but crying because you were drunk and your boyfriend was hot was just embarrassing.

“I’m drunk,” she told him. Might as well get right to the point.

“Yeah, I gathered,” he said, still looking at her with entirely too much affection, “You feel okay enough to walk home?”

“Yeah. I wanna walk,” Annabeth said, accepting his hand and pulling herself to his feet. If he hadn’t been holding her she probably would have fallen over.

“You sure about that?” he asked skeptically, putting his other hand around her waist, steadying her. She leaned into him, because she always leaned into him, and yeah, okay, maybe she needed his support to walk straight, but what about it.

“Very sure,” Annabeth said. Already she was adjusting to being on her feet. Percy half looked like he wanted to protest, but making it out of the living room seemed to convince him that she was okay to at least make it a few blocks home.

Sitting down on the bench in the front hall to put her shoes on was somehow worse than walking. She managed to shove her shoes into her sneakers, but getting them tied was probably not going to happen.

“I can’t remember how shoelaces work,” Annabeth admitted, looking up at him, “Does that mean I’m screwed?”

“Well, there’s good news and there’s bad news,” Percy said, leaning down to tie her shoe for her. Annabeth shut her eyes tight, then opened them again, trying very hard to focus out her vision. It didn’t work.

“What’s the bad news?” Annabeth asked, because bad news tended to ruin good news, and she’d rather just get it out of the way.

“You’re going to be very hungover tomorrow.” Percy said, straightening up. She thought he was smiling, but considering there were two of his head floating around in front of her, it was kind of hard to tell.

“Are you laughing at me?” Annabeth asked. He was definitely smiling now.

“I would never,” Percy said, wrapping an arm around her waist, “C’mon, lets go.”

Their goodbye was not as extended or elaborate as Annabeth expected, mostly because Piper and Hazel were already half-way to being passed out. Still, there were some waves, some I-love-yous and a partially incoherent apology from Piper, though who it was aimed at was something of a mystery.

Stairs were just a bit tricky, but she managed to stumble down them without seriously injuring herself. She was sure Percy helped somehow, but she could barely tell the difference between his arms supporting her and her own movement.

“What’s the good news?” Annabeth asked, once they were safely on the sidewalk, heading in the direction of her apartment. It was probably cold, but between Percy’s body heat next to her and her own drunkenness, she could barely feel it.

“You haven’t thrown up?” Percy offered, half-heartedly. Annabeth swallowed down a gag.

“Don’t say those words again,” she warned. Percy winced.

“Right. Sorry.”

“That wasn’t even good news, that was irrelevant news,”

“I think it’s excellent news, personally.” Percy said. He was laughing at her again, probably, but she also probably deserved it. Probably. She was wrapped under his shoulder because his arm was still helping hold her up, so it was kind of hard to see his face. She focused her eyes down at the sidewalk in front of her instead, focusing on not tripping.

“You would,” Annabeth said, “You didn’t have good news, did you?”

“I was sort of hoping you would forget,” Percy admitted.

“I never forget,” Annabeth reminded him. She had an excellent memory. Especially for things that had happened only 2 minutes ago. Admittedly the rest of the night was already starting to get a little blurry.

“I’m sorry for doubting you,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Annabeth felt a small stab of guilt. He was teasing her, sure, but he was also being stupid nice even after she’d dragged him out of bed in the middle of the night to practically carry her intoxicated self back home.

And now she was remembering where that little wiggle of anxiety had been stemming from. He didn’t like being around drunk people. He never really said anything, because he was him and thus was probably allergic to the mere thought of even mildly killing anyone else’s fun for his own personal comfort or convenience. But she knew him well enough that he didn’t need to say anything. He’d never taken up Piper’s offer to go partying with them, even though he encouraged Annabeth to go when she’d wanted to, and he hardly ever drank himself. Even then it was only in social situations, and usually just one drink that he probably didn’t even feel.

So maybe he hadn’t flat out said he didn’t like people being wasted around him, but he had told her about Gabe; how he was a drunk, abusive asshole. It wasn’t too hard to put the pieces together.

“I’m sorry I got drunk,” Annabeth said. It was kind of a lame apology considering she was probably slurring her words a good amount, but she meant it anyways.

She felt something shift in his demeanor— if she was sober, she would know instantly what the slight change in pressure meant. As it was, she was kind of in the dark.

“Why are you sorry?” he asked. She thought he sounded surprised, but maybe she was mishearing, because it would be dumb for him to be surprised by that. At the very least, he should understand she felt bad about ruining his night.

“Because, I got messy and you had to wake up and take me home even though I could have just slept on Piper’s floor,” Annabeth said. Words were sort of flowing out of her without her completely approving them, in a jumbled rush. She didn’t like it, but she couldn’t quite remember how to stop it either.

“I don’t mind,” he said, just as she’d known he would. He meant it too, even drunk off her ass she could tell he wasn’t annoyed at her at all, even though he would be totally justified to be.

“But I could have just slept on the floor,” Annabeth repeated, though even the thought caused her to lean deeper into him.

Percy slowed his pace, almost stopping. Annabeth tried looking up at him to decipher what he was thinking, but she couldn’t really make out his face well enough to tell.

“This isn’t just about waking me up, isn’t it?” he asked.

Ugh. Why did she forget in her drunken stupor that he knew her just as well as she knew him? Obviously he was going to pick up on something deeper that was making her feel guilty.

“I just—” Annabeth started, then stopped. It was difficult to pick words precisely enough for the thoughts she was having.

“I know you don’t really like parties and stuff. Or drunk people. And I’m a drunk people right now, so I’m sorry.”

Great job, Annabeth, Annabeth thought to herself. Very delicately put. The lack of subject verb agreement, that was a nice touch. You didn’t sound completely fucked up even a little bit.

God, she hated being drunk.

“I didn’t want you to wake up alone, tomorrow,” Annabeth said, trying again, “But I forgot that me being drunk might be worse, so that's why I feel bad.”

Percy stopped walking. At first Annabeth thought it was in response to what she’d just said, but then she realized they were in front of their apartment building.

Then she realized he wasn’t making any moves to go inside, so it was about what she’d said after all. Instead he turned her around so she could see his face, keeping his arms around her waist in support.

She couldn’t quite read his expression, yet another reason why alcohol was the devil.

“I have a feeling we’re going to need to repeat this conversation in the morning when you’re sober,” he started, “But just for the record, you being drunk doesn’t make me uncomfortable at all.”

Annabeth studied his expression, searching his face for any signs of mistruth. She found none, but she also couldn’t entirely trust her senses at the moment.

“Are you just saying that?” Annabeth asked, suspiciously, “Because that’s the sort of thing you would lie about.”

She had sort of expected him to sigh in annoyance, but to her surprise he smiled instead.

“I’m not lying, I swear.”

“But you don’t like other drunk people,” Annabeth insisted. For some reason the two ideas could not coexist in her mind.

“I don’t like drunk strangers,” he corrected, “You’re not a stranger.”

“Well, duh,” Annabeth said, which made him laugh. She hadn’t meant to, but she liked hearing him laugh, so she would accept it anyways.

“But doesn’t it— I don’t know, bring up bad memories, for you?” she asked, cautiously, “I don’t wanna do that. I don’t even really like being drunk.”

He just shook his head.

“If it did, I would tell you. But it doesn’t, I swear.”

Annabeth frowned. It was probably just her stupid wine brain, but she couldn’t quite connect the dots between all the points he was making.

“Why?” she asked.

“Because,” he said, somehow still smiling, “You’re you.”

“That’s a lame answer.” Annabeth said.

“It’s true,” he said, in that stupid earnest honest voice of his, “I mean, maybe if you started throwing beer cans at my head when you got tipsy it’d be different, but you’re the opposite of aggressive when you’re drunk. You actually get really cuddly, it's kind of cute.”

Annabeth knew he was trying to comfort her, but she also knew that Gabe had done a lot worse than throw beer cans at him. She felt a surge of anger on his behalf, but more powerfully a wave of sadness looking at his upbeat expression. It was so supremely unfair that she wanted to cry, but she just hugged him instead. She was probably proving his point about being cuddly, but she didn’t even care.

“I’m so glad your mom made him into a statue,” she mumbled into his chest.

“Me too,” Percy said, resting his chin on the top of her head.

“I love you so much,” Annabeth said, because she really, really did. Like so much. An embarrassing amount, if she were capable of feeling embarrassed about anything having to do with Percy Jackson, which she was pretty sure was impossible.

“I love you too,” he said, kissing the top of her head to prove it.

“Piper said I get boyfriend clingy when I’m drunk,” Annabeth admitted. He laughed, his chest vibrating beneath her.

“She might be right about that.”

“She’s usually right about things,” Annabeth said, without thinking. Then—

“Don’t tell her I said that.”

He laughed again, but it was quieter. She felt it more than she heard it this time.

“Your secret is safe with me,” he promised.

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” Annabeth said, because she really did feel bad about that, even beyond all the other stuff, “I should have paid more attention to what I was doing.”

She felt him shrug underneath her.

“Stuff happens, it's not a big deal,” Percy said easily, “We’ll just sleep in tomorrow. Speaking of, we should probably go inside.”

As soon as he said ‘go inside’ Annabeth’s brain suddenly registered that she was exhausted. It was late, her head was swimming, and his chest had been very warm and very comfortable. She’d fallen half asleep without even realizing it.

“Inside sounds good,” Annabeth agreed, yawning.

“C’mon, I’ll carry you the rest of the way,” Percy said, finally pulling away, brushing a few stray curls out of her eyes.

Maybe if she had been sober she would have protested. As it was she was pretty happy to climb on his back and rest her head on his shoulder. He looped his arms under her legs and lifted her up easily. Gods, he was stupidly strong. She should appreciate that more.

“I love you,” she mumbled one last time into his shoulder. Whether he’d heard or responded was a mystery to her, because she was asleep before he finished climbing the stairs.

[senju-sekhmet]

Leporina venatio

leporina venatio (latin): rabbit hunt

Summary: You’ve cleaned it. You’ve groomed it. You’ve run your fingers through it - time to get around to wear it. Tobirama’s fur collar has got to be the number one prize - except he’d never actually let you adorn it. You’ll just have to help yourself to it a little bit differently, no? I COULDN’T RESIST... In response to the lovely headcanons @cafeinthemoon! Go check them out!

Warnings: the fact I really suck at comedy? And slightly suggestive tones in the end. SFW, though, don’t worry!

~3.200k words Read on AO3!

He opened his eyes lazily. The sun was already filtering warmly through the window and with a content sigh he reached over to - Empty. Tobirama turned over to find your side of the bed vacant - cold, even. He huffed. Now he couldn’t deny being slightly miffed that you’d rather rise on your own than spend a few precious moments with him, awake, in bed - as you used to, on your off-duty days; but being the man he was, there must be a reason behind all this. Maybe you had prepared breakfast, received an urgent message… a multitude of logical reasons were plausible.

He still was annoyed. Those were your shared off days, after all. Precious and few inbetween. With a shake of his head and sigh he rose to get dressed in his dark casual attire. His scarlet gaze swept the room for any clues regarding your departure. At the very least he expected you to leave some kind of message behind for him to find - if you really did leave without any hint at all? However he came up short. Leaving the bedroom and entering the narrow hall, he found there was no smell of fresh food being cooked either, which ruled out the breakfast option. Tobirama’s heart sank a little. So much for a calm day off, then.

Quietly, as a last resort he tentatively called out - “Y/n?”

No answer. Closing his eyes momentarily he sent out a weak pulse of chakra and tuned into his sensor skills to see if you were anywhere nearby, but none of the signatures belonged to you. Opening his eyes again, he stemmed his palms to his hips and frowned deeply. Had you actually left just like that?

Suddenly, his gaze widened as a more sinister thought occurred to him.

Had something happened to you?

His frown deepened. Should he check the hospital - should he -

Then he noticed it. The door of your shared armoury - really, the small room in which you both kept your weapons, armor and other items for combat and missions was slightly agape. His eyes narrowed to tiny slits. That door was always closed. He stalked over cautiously, nudged the door open - then he saw it. All the puzzle pieces fell into place immediately.

His ultramarine battle gear, polished. Shining.

His white fur collar - missing.

“Why, you…”, he muttered, no, snarled. For a moment the world was red and hot ire burned inside of him - then he gazed through the window, huffing.

He whipped around on his heels and stalked out of the house. Already, he channeled his chakra to let his sensor skills fan out in search of you.

You wanted to hide from him, an extremely skilled sensor?

Game on.

_________

Your neck and shoulders were comfortably warm. It was spring, so the temperatures were rising indeed, but not quite there yet - though it did make you wonder how Tobirama handled this in summer. Occasionally you’d tilt your head to the side to nuzzle into the warmth of the white fur that adorned your shoulders, inhaling the scent of your husband.

With a snicker, you thought about how he’d wake up to you - and his precious floof - missing.

Honestly, this was a godly prank, or so you’d like to think. Waltzing through Konoha, wearing what obvious was Tobirama’s trademark piece of attire was bound to turn a few select heads - and it did. You even happened to meet Madara - who had regarded you with a fine smirk. He understood immediately, of course - the fact Tobirama wouldn’t part willingly with this and was somewhere else, royally pissed off.

“Does he know yet?”, the Uchiha clan leader mused darkly, a glint to his obsidian eyes.

You blinked innocently, putting a slender finger to pursed lips. “Do you hear him yelling and ripping it off me?”

He merely gave a low laugh and waved goodbye, going on his merry way.

As you did yourself. You weren’t stupid, of course. Stealing Tobirama’s fur collar was one thing. Hiding with it for a prolonged amount of time was another - by now he’d be awake, have figured everything out and probably even be using shadow clones to look for you.

His sensor skills were an extremely unfair advantage in this game.

Which was another reason you kept to the broad public - the more chakra signatures were around you, the more difficult it’d be for him to discern yours. Really, it’d just buy you a little bit more time - and dignity. Tobirama wouldn’t make a scene to recover his most prized possession in front of the entire village.

You hoped, at least.

It was just in front of a flower shop when you spotted him - his silvery hair would always stand out, just like the three red facial markings he used paint on. He was down the road, way off; however his stare might as well have been a kunai flying in your direction for how enraged it was.

You gave a cheeky grin, waved at him and entered the shop without looking back to see his face become contorted by a furious scowl.

Inside the shop were a handful of customers and the keeper of course, who you approached politely. “Hello, might I take a look around? I’m looking for a little surprise for my husband and your display had me enraptured, really.” Your tone was honey-sweet, you almost felt guilty knowing what would follow in here.

The man blinked, blushing a little. “O-oh, sure, go ahead,” waving you towards his sortiment with a bright smile.

You made a mental note to buy some flowers from this poor fellow later.

____

Tobirama couldn’t believe his own eyes.

Not only had he located you amidst the bustling streets - it was a quite busy morning - but every single aspect of the situation fuelled his fury more. Obviously - obviously - you had been mingling in an effort to make tracking you down with his sensor skills more difficult (How pathetic - he’d know your chakra’s signature between a thousand, always), but you actually also had the gall to stare him in the eye once he found you, grin at him and, by all that is holy, waltz away.

With his fur collar on.

He wasn’t a conceited man nor did he care for appearances, but frankly a part of him quite liked the idea of you wearing it (for a short time, anyway) - your scent on it, the idea of it being warm by your body’s warmth -

But this was his fur collar! And he hadn’t given you permission to saunter around with it in public like some - some - look-alike? Furiously he stalked over to the shop you had just entered, paying no attention to what was being sold there exactly. People made way for him simply for how he walked - likely his expression helped with that bit too - but he didn’t care. This game was over, now.

Inside, his scarlet gaze locks with yours immediately and his eyes narrow to tiny slits. “Y/n,” he sternly calls as though his voice was a weapon - a threat he’d make good on.

The shop’s owner turned his head, mouth slightly agape when recognition settled into his expression.

You weren’t fazed the slightest, of course. That grin of yours was as cheeky as ever and had he been slightly more prepared - had this not been about his fur collar - maybe, maybe he’d have found it funny. A little bit.

But as it was, he didn't. Not the slightest. Nope.

“Tobirama!”, you waved, “There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you before, dear, I’m glad you found me now.”

He was sure at this point his face became as red as three red streaks of paint that adorned it. The shop owner ducked behind his counter a little. “It wasn’t all that difficult, Y/n, with that outfit you’re brandishing right now, you know.” The tone of his voice was subzero, but quiet. He took a few measured steps towards you.

Your smile didn’t falter the slightest. “It’s lovely, isn’t it?” You tilted your head slightly to rub your cheek over the fluffy white fur, closing your eyes to inhale the scent again.

Tobirama took a sharp breath and his eyes widened slightly as that motion alone did something else to him. His fists balled though. “Shall we, then? We got a lot more to do today.” He extended his hand for you to take, taking another measured step towards you. If you weren’t going to take his hand, he’d simply take your arm or make body contact somehow else to use his hiraishin seal and end this prank.

Unfortunately - of course - you were too smart for that. Your loving ministrations to the floof ceased immediately as an attentive eye caught his hand nearing you; your lips formed a wicked smile. “Sure - go ahead, Tobi. I’ll be right along, I promised Mito to stop by and - oh, I needed to buy something else, too.”

Tobirama nostrils flared and his gaze narrowed to tiny slits. Momentarily his jaws clenched so hard it hurt, but he raised his chin as he identified this for what this was. Defiance. And the proverbial gauntlet being thrown down again. “Then let’s go together, shall we?” He raised his hand to casually lay it on your shoulder as he stood by your side - as wife and husband would -

But you pranced to the side nimbly and towards the door before he could do so much as lay a finger on you or get within arm’s reach. “Wonderful! This will be fun. I’ll be back later, mister, your flowers are delightful!”, waving the shop owner goodbye, you already were out of the shop.

Tobirama’s hand dropped to his side, his hands balled into fists again. Darkly he stared after you. So this is how we’re going to do this. Not sparing the shop owner a second glance he was out before you could slip out of his sight again.

________

With no small amount of satisfaction you were sauntering down the main street of Konoha again, ignoring the ominous presence that was following you. The look on Tobirama’s face had been priceless. Unfortunately you had a problem now: he literally only needed to graze your skin now to whisk you away to your shared home.

Then the un-fun part of this prank would begin. You’d have to find a way to pacify him before that because right now, you knew he was royally pissed only.

Still. It was fun to watch, once in a while. And you really loved this lovely floof.

His low timbre reached your ears again, nearer than you expected. Already, you sped up your playful gait, throwing a glance over your shoulder. “Enjoying yourself?” He inquired darkly.

If looks could kill, you might drop dead now. There were honest shadows cast over his face from how enraged he was. But - and this was most important - he was far enough away still. You smiled cheekily again. “Quite a lot.”

His voice became chilly again. “You realise this is no match for my hiraishin?”

You giggled. “Yeah, I’d be in real trouble if you ever used it.” To accentuate your statement, you picked up your pace a little bit more. By now you were quite close to running.

Tobirama gave a low growl in response and answered by picking up his speed, too. The way the two of you walked must look comical by now. Not like you cared - and Tobirama seemed fixated on his goal now.

Truth be told, you needed a plan. Another shop would just strain his patience more - and that trick was old. Reaching a familiar destination - like Hashirama’s house - was dangerous. Tobirama might unleash his fury there or simply grab you and really haul you away. Briefly you considered seeking out Madara - but the fun would stop right there, or the probability of an actual incident was too high.

That left you with one option.

Within the blink of an eye, you bolted into a sidealley.

_______

Tobirama skidded to a halt for just a moment as you ran - right down into the narrow alley to your right. Snarling, he began the pursuit - gloves off now. If you actually thought you could outpace the fastest shinobi alive, you had another thing coming.

Though you weren’t exactly holding back either - nor were you a sluggish person. Your footwork had always been nimble and in the small streets it was possible to zigzag past narrow corners, under clothes lines and down even more narrow alleys that barely deserved the name.

He had to be careful. This was not some panicked move, this had been a calculated decision of yours. Quite possibly you had more planned. His best option remained to stay as close as he could - no, get close enough to touch you and teleport home.

His increasing fury didn’t help maintain focus, though. All he did see was his white fur collar trail in front of him and away, alongside the endlessly amused laughter of his wife.

Were he not so frustrated, he might find the challenge entertaining. Enjoyable. Perhaps he did, right now.

Nonsense, this was ridiculous! He had better things to do than running after you like some schoolboy!

Just as you turned around yet another corner he lunged forward for you to narrowly miss his grabbing hand - so narrow he could still feel the air draft of your movement as you had to dance to the side in order to avoid capture.

“Ahaha!”, you giggled, “It seems you got to be faster, dear husband!” - and with a literal twirl you were on your merry way again.

That did it.

_______

After your very narrow escape, you had turned yet another corner - quite frankly you were surprised Tobirama hadn’t shouted anything back. There are no people in these alleys; and by now you expected him to be frothing by the mouth or something. Instead he actually lost a few meters on you - hah.

Then you frowned.

That was quaint, actually. Had he stopped for some reason? You spurred yourself to greater speeds but nonetheless you couldn’t deny the tiny shiver down your spine. Your husband was an extremely intelligent man and the fact he had hatched some plan that had required him to stand still even for just a second - that didn’t sit well with you.

You had to change your tactic, again.

But quite frankly you were running out of options at this point. A disguise was out of question due to his sensor capabilities - back on the main road, maybe?

You took another quick turn-

Only to be slammed into the ground by a tall, silver-haired man. With a yelp, you rolled forward to ease the incoming fall as you lost all balance due to your speed, but your assailant was quick as well - before you could gain your footing again, he used the weight of his body to tackle you. You managed to roll on your back to identify the attacker as - who else could it be - Tobirama.

“How?!”, you breathed, incredulously, but already, you raised your legs to kick out viciously to shake him off; though he was faster.

With a low huff he seized your wrists simply and dragged you up with him - damn it all. This was as good as over now. After a short scuffle he had wrestled your arms behind your back and turned you around to face down the alley, where the answer was coming from.

Another Tobirama was striding down towards you. He clapped his hands, once twice, lazily. The smirk in his voice was unmistakable. “Well done. Shall we go home, dear?”

You struggled still against the shadow clone that held your arms wrenched behind your back, scrunching your nose and huffing. “That was low, Tobi. I thought we were having a fair chase here,” you moped.

He finally stood in before you, arms crossed in front of his chest. His eyebrows rose lazily. “I was chasing you. Apologies for not reading the rules, you didn’t leave any behind.” He sounded entirely unimpressed now, but there was a certain glint in his scarlet gaze as he stared his quarry - you - down. You were unsure if it was fury or plain annoyance.

Your lips formed a pout. “At least make your clone disappear now. You won.”

He didn’t move an inch. In fact, his clone reinforced his grip, earning him indignant “Hey!” from you. Tobirama only blinked, gaze never leaving you. “Do you think I’m stupid? You’re going to bolt the moment I release you.”

You click your tongue in feigned hurt. “Ouch? Please, have some faith, husband. I lost a fair chase, I’m a good sport.”

“You just called it unfair, my dear.” He cocked an eyebrow, unimpressed.

You just stared at him for another moment after he had called your rather obvious bluff. Finally, you bit your lower lip and attempted a little bit of a smirk again. “Come on, Tobi. You did enjoy yourself a little.” He still didn’t move an inch. His intense gaze simply kept mustering you, only narrowing ever so slightly. “We’re going home now.”

Instantly reality twisted and a familiar lurch later you were in your bedroom, Tobirama right in front of you. The clone was gone - he must’ve released it the moment it had teleported you. In a swift motion he backed you up closer to the nearest wall, closer and closer - until you felt your back make contact with the wall. Defiantly, you crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“Well, go ahead then. Take the floof back.” At the very least, you were surprised he hadn’t been shouting or something. Remembering his face when he initially had spotted you, you’d been rather sure you were in for something.

Right now? Right now the scarlet gaze of his was near liquid, ablaze but narrow nonetheless. His jaw was working and slowly, he put a hand to the wall next to your head. “Hm,” he gave a low hum that rolled right off his tongue.

You raised an eyebrow. Was he going to prank you now? “If you’re waiting for me to give it back, no can do. I’m rather attached to this. Literally.” You smirked again, confidently, turning your head slightly to nuzzle the soft fur again for a moment.

From the corner of your eye you saw his throat move as he swallowed heavily, his eyes widening slightly. He was staring you down like a hawk now. Silence stretched for a few moments before - “Maybe I quite enjoy the sights right now, actually.” His baritone voice had taken on a sultry tone now and his free hand moved up to first ruffle through his fur, then trail up your neck and cup your cheek tenderly.

Your eyebrows climbed up. So that was what that look had been about. You leaned into his touch a little and couldn’t help but smile gently, looking up at him. Right then you wanted to lose yourself in that intense gaze of his. “Then ... I’ll wear it a bit longer?” you murmured headily, quietly.

He took another small step closer until his body almost touched yours, his fresh breath hitting your face as he seemed to ponder the notion for a moment. The hand next to your face slipped down to linger between the soft fur and your neck alike, his thumb stroking your skin gently. For a moment all he did was caressing you, pinning you with gaze; no marvelling you.

“A tiny bit…”, he finally murmured, then a fine smirk formed - and his voice turned stern. “But you’re not going to leave this house. With my collar on. Ever again.”

You rolled your eyes.

This was still Tobirama, after all.

[whumperstorm]

Blood Donor

They were going to have visitors, Elias said, looking down on Jon where he kneeled on the floor of his cell. He nodded in understanding. He’d be on his best behavior then. He wasn’t expecting his master to shoot out a clawed hand and grasp his hair, yanking him off the floor. His eyes stung with the pain as Elias snarled.

“So don’t try anything funny, got it? You’re mine. You will not ruin this.”

“Y-yes sir, I’m sorry sir!”

Elias dropped him and he landed painfully on his knees. “Good.” He smiled a dangerous, fanged smile, before placing Jon’s dinner on the floor and stepping out. The door locked with a screech behind him.

Jon sat back from his kneel and leaned against the wall to eat. Not all that more comfortable, he’d rather be sitting on the tiny cot he was provided by his master, but he’d also like to avoid spilling anything on it and angering Elias’ especially short temper he seemed to have today. He sighed and picked up his plate.

At least his meals were filling and sometimes considered delicious to Jon. “We need to keep you nice and healthy.” Elias had said, “Makes your blood all the sweeter.” Of course, Elias cared not for Jon’s preferences and the comfort of a hot meal was lost the moment he tried to be picky or “ungrateful”. Leaving anything on the plate was unacceptable and called for punishment apparently.

Tonight’s meal was well-seasoned curry, one of Jon’s favorites. He wondered if Elias was attempting to bribe him a bit. What visitors could be so important to put Elias this on edge? He’d brought plenty of visitors before, The Lucas family for one, (who Jon disliked quite a lot. Such a cold, condescending family) and sometimes just Peter himself. On those nights he was left mostly alone. The two of them would eat dinner and feed, then retreat to the lounge to indulge in one too many wine refills. On those nights Elias sometimes allowed Jon to pick out a new book from the library before returning to his cell. Reading was a rare luxury, and Peter always left Elias in a good mood where he was willing to allow it.

Maybe Elias thought that tonight’s guests would cause Jon to consider an escape attempt. Well, he needn't worry, he’d tried that a couple of times already and had been punished mercilessly for it. He had learned quickly that no one cared that he was here against his will. Blood donors were meant to be signed on through legal contracts. Provide fresh blood in exchange for housing and care and the freedom to move around as you wish. Lots of human newly grads or retirees signed contracts and after Jon lost his grandmother, he didn’t have anywhere to go and decided to take on the job. He was unaware that Elias had no intention of treating him like a guest. Locked up within the first week with no one on the outside who would know or care that he was missing. Well, maybe Georgie, if Jon hadn’t royally fucked that up.

The first time Elias had brought guests, he threatened Jon into obedience, but the moment one of the visitors approached him to feed he urgently whispered his current predicament in hope that they would call the cops on his kidnapper. Instead, they laughed. Laughed and fed anyway, before walking right up to Elias and warning him that he had “a chatty one”. Elias had laughed too, but when the guest walked away his eyes locked onto Jon’s from where he sat and the fury and darkness in his eyes sent Jon’s heart dropping to his stomach. That night, Jon learned exactly how the sting of a whip felt on bare skin.

“A shame to waste such delicious blood.” Elias sighed, between lashes. “However you disobeyed me tonight and embarrassed me in front of my guests. I have a reputation to withhold. This little outburst has made it clear I’ve been far too soft with you.” 

There was a pause and footsteps from behind. Jon was sure that his back must be in ribbons at this point. Through his own ragged breathing he distantly heard the sound of something metal being picked up before fire exploded across his back and he screamed. Salt water rolled down his abused skin, washing away the red and leaving agony in its wake. The chains on his wrists kept him from curling in on himself.

 Elias leaned down to whisper in Jon’s ear. “This will not happen again, understand?”

Jon could do nothing but sob as he shakily nodded his head. He was thrown back into his cell after that, lying still on the floor and unable to move through his pain to get onto the cot. At some point a maid entered and bandaged his wounds. It made sense, Elias wanted to punish him, not kill him through an infection.

He tried again, after that. How could he not? He was stubborn, and now he knew he couldn’t trust anyone to help him. He’d have to do it himself. He waited weeks, letting himself heal and obeying Elias as best he could against his own pride. Then when a servant arrived with his dinner one night, he knocked them out with the leg of the table he was provided. He noticed it had been loose and worked at it for days until it snapped. He felt a bit bad for attacking the man, he was probably in a similar situation to him. But he needed to get out of here. He could feel guilty when he was far far away from Elias’ estate.

Unfortunately, he was caught. Of course he was caught. Elias found him right outside the kitchen doors no more than 5 minutes after his escape. Jon had no idea how he would have known, but he did, and Jon only had a moment to glimpse the night sky before he was grabbed in the vampire’s iron grip and yanked inside. He was dragged kicking and screaming back to his cell. Elias’ eyes held the same fury as the last time and Jon’s back twinged. But then Elias took a deep breath and steeled his expression.

“I was unaware that my dinner selections were so unacceptable for you that you’d resort to assault.”

Jon blinked in confusion. “What do y-”

Elias continued over his interruption. “In that case, you can go hungry until you decide to be grateful for what I provide for you.” Elias swept out of the room, taking Jon’s uneaten dinner with him. Jon was left on the floor of his cell, scared, confused, and so disappointed. He had been so close. Yet somehow Elias was waiting for him.

It was two weeks before he was given anything more to eat.

___

Elias came to collect him a few hours after his dinner. He was given a loose-fitting olive green shirt with see-through lace arms and a bronze pair of dress pants. The outfit left his neck and shoulders free to make feeding as easy as possible. A servant braided his hair and tied it up into a bun with a golden pin to keep it in place. Elias always made sure he looked his best for company. The tip of the pin was shaped like an eye, the Bouchard family crest, with an emerald in the center as the pupil. He was then given golden earrings to match.

“Master…”

Elias looked up from admiring his work. “Yes, Jon?”

Jon glanced at him before looking back at the ground. “May I- may I ask who is visiting?”

Elias chuckled softly. “Always so curious, aren’t you? Yes you may ask. After all, you should be prepared to serve them to the best of your ability.” Elias reached out and brushed a strand of hair out of Jon’s face. “I’ve decided to expand my coven; tonight I’ve invited five possible candidates into my home to discuss matters. Quite a curious bunch. I’m sure they will be valuable additions should they choose to join.”

Elias moved away and snapped his fingers. The servant dressing Jon stepped back with a bow and Jon followed Elias out the door of his cell. He was led up the stairs and down the hall to the dining room. Elias gestured for Jon to take his place against the right hand wall. He was to kneel on the floor cushioned by a pillow. Behind him was a simple couch where those who wished to feed would sit. Jon noticed that a book was sitting on the side table within reach. After settling down he read the title on the spine. It was the next in a series he was currently enjoying. Oh Elias was definitely trying to get on Jon’s good side tonight. He would take what he could get while Elias was feeling so generous. Perhaps he was anxious that these visitors would decide not to join. Jon wasn’t about to mess things up and ruin the comfort he was being offered.

Once the night began, Elias would welcome the guests, they would exchange pleasantries before eating their meal, (which included multiple courses and a dessert) then Elias would offer his donor for any who wished to feed. Jon hoped only a few would take him up on the offer. Five visitors meant a max of six feedings and a killer headache in the morning. Jon got comfortable in his place and picked up the book. Either way, he had a while to wait before he was needed. 

When the guests arrived, Jon mostly ignored them at first and kept his nose in his book. There were two men and three women. They all looked pretty different and were most likely not related. The two men and one of the women seemed already familiar with each other while the other two women were attached at the hip. Jon could already see two sets of teeth. One poked out past the hijabi woman’s lips and he saw the other set when the bigger of the men smiled brightly in greeting. Two of the guests in particular,  however, caught Jon’s eye. The second of the men, a slim, toned man with colored hair, and the tallest of the women with short blonde hair and multiple scars. They seemed... scruffier than the rest, and their eyes didn't pierce like most vampires’ did. They were deep and full in a way Jon could just about recognise.

The group talked politely over drinks until the kitchen staff arrived with their meals. From Jon’s place he couldn’t tell what was being served, but it smelled delicious. He realized what was different about the two when their food was served with sterling silver cutlery. It was designed differently to not get confused with the rest. Two of the guests were  werewolves, not vampires. This took Jon by surprise. Elias said he was trying to expand his coven, why would he invite wolves? He had always been stingy about “purity of blood” or whatever.

Jon noticed Elias’ gaze boring into him from the head of the tabe. Caught. Jon quickly looked back down at the floor. The night’s proceedings were none of his business. He let the rest of the conversation roll over him after that. However, he couldn’t help but notice one of the women kept glancing his way. She had arrived with the men and sat between them at the table. Her hair was long and dark, curling past her dark, freckled shoulders. Big, round glasses framed her face and her eyes caught Jon’s attention every time she looked over at him. He couldn’t parse out her expression but he tensed under her gaze. Perhaps she was excited to feed. Elias had said Jon had exceptionally sweet-smelling blood. He tried his best to ignore her, focusing on his book and waiting for dessert to be served.

___

A long wait and four courses later, Elias finally stood. He smiled over his glass of wine as he addressed his guests.

“Now that we’ve properly eaten, I’d like to offer my Donor, for those who wish to feed.” He gestured towards Jon with a sweep of his arm. “Of course, I’ve also prepared a delicious pastry selection for those who don’t have the palate for blood.” He smirked like he was in on some inside joke. Of course, there were two  wolves at the table so Jon supposed it made sense. 

The hijabi woman stood first and Jon set his book down on the table. Elias looked towards the larger man with the dark hair and piercing blue eyes. He shook his head politely. “I’ve recently fed, thank you. Though, I’ll take one of the pastries.”

“Of course.” Elias said. He gestured to the kitchen staff in waiting. “Please prepare four dessert servings.” They nodded and retreated through the kitchen doors.

Wait, four? Jon counted the guests in his head. Two werewolves and one vampire who didn’t want to use him. That left the vamp headed towards him and the lady who kept staring at him and who Jon noticed was now looking at him with a look of… Surprise? Disgust? Maybe she was angry that Elias hadn’t invited her to feed as well. Well, that was his mistake, not Jon’s.

His view was then blocked by the hijabi woman as she went to stand in front of him. She leaned down and… held out a hand? Jon blinked in surprise.

“Basira Hussain.” She introduced bluntly.

Jon stared dumbly at her offered hand before awkwardly taking it. “Uh, J-Jonathan Sims?” He stammered.

They shook briefly before “Basira” smirked slightly and sat down on the couch. “Ah, you must be new, then. Don’t worry, you get used to it.” She then gently grasped his chin to better expose his neck. “May I?”

Jon could do nothing but sit dumbfounded. He certainly wasn’t new, and no one had ever asked permission before. They always took what they wanted at Elias’ request.

Basira must have noticed his reluctance, because she paused, letting go of his chin and resting her hand on his shoulder instead.

“Sims? Are you-” She froze mid-sentence, her eyes locked onto Jon’s back with an expression like ice. What was…

Oh.

His back. 

The whip scars.

“Y-yes!” Jon stammered a bit too loud. “Go ahead!”

Basira jumped slightly at his outburst, glancing between his face and back, before her expression went carefully blank and she sank her teeth into his throat. Jon winced at the sharp pain but it quickly dulled as her vampire’s venom took effect. She didn’t feed for long at all, only long enough to be respectful, before she pulled back and licked her fangs clean. Jon slumped back as the wave of dizziness passed.

Then she was gone, headed back towards the group at the table. The kitchen staff had just returned and were bustling around, setting down dessert options. Jon noted that Basira went the long way back to her seat, passing the group of three. Elias’ angry eyes were currently focused on one servant who missed spilling his drink by a millimeter and Basira leaned down to whisper something in the freckled woman’s ear before sliding past. Her round eyes went wide and she looked over at Jon again.

Jon was getting pretty sick of being stared at in all honesty. He was so confused at this point and his knees were getting sore. If this woman was so horrified by the thought of feeding on him, and now this “Basira” was talking shit about him, could he please just go back to his cell?

But then, the woman did something strange that Jon couldn’t ignore. She looked him straight in the eyes; she made sure he was paying attention to her. Then raised a hand to her face and lifted her upper lip to reveal….

Teeth. Normal teeth. Not the sharp fangs of a vampire or the large canines of a wolf, but blunt, normal, human teeth.

Suddenly the night’s proceedings were very much Jon’s business.

[samiralula01]

Jason Todd is the Anti-Batman

* A pointless rambling of the relationship and parallels between Bruce Wayne and Jason Todd.

Picture this opening scene: There are two boys in a dark alley.

One is dressed in an expensive suit with a tie his dead father helped him with only earlier that evening. His hands are stained red with the same blood now puddled on the grimy cement. His face is in shock.

The second boy is dressed in tattered jeans and hoodie. His hands are stained with tires grease and are clutching a tire iron. His face is in shock.

Decades later, there are two more scenes to consider.

A seriously injured man sits slumped over in his father’s study. Without warning, a bat crashes through the window, and everything falls into place. He now knows what he needs to do.

Elsewhere, an emotionally distraught teenager is curled up into a fetal position on a hotel room floor. Heart wrenching cries can be heard from him. But it is only momentary. He now knows what he needs to do.

These two individuals are Bruce Wayne and Jason Todd. While they are both broken and determined men, Batman is a hero. The Red Hood is not. He is the anti-Batman and this is why.

Two Boys in an Alleyway

Despite similarities in their stories’ early themes and elements, Bruce and Jason came to walk down very different paths. One of justice, and the other vengeance. Batman is determined to protect the innocent and Jason more so on punishing the guilty. Both their ideologies have intrinsic flaws, of course, and will naturally clash often. But this wasn’t always the case.

Before they became a father and son perpetually in mourning for who they once were and what could have been, Bruce and Jason were remarkably similar. The two are cut from the same cloth and Bruce knows this better than anyone else.

In the Dumpster Slasher three-part story line, (Batman #414, #421, #422) Bruce becomes emotional. Violent. He sits in the batcave alone that night and contemplates his emotions.

“Nearly blew it. I let it get too personal. Lost my detachment...nearly lost control. Almost beat Cutter to death. Wouldn’t have been any big loss.”

Only one issue later, at the end of this story arc, Robin is out on the streets and becomes angry when he happens upon a pimp is threatening a prostitute with a knife. Now, I want you to compare his line here to Bruce’s and note what Jim Gordon said to him as well.

Batman: "I think he’s had enough, Robin. What were you trying to do, kill him?" Robin (Jason): “Would it’ve been that big of a loss if I had?”

It is important to note here that Batman is not worried or upset just because Jason roughs up a pimp. That would be hypocritical considering his own earlier actions. If anything, it’s because one of the main reasons Batman even takes in these kids, these ‘robins,’ is because he doesn’t want them to be like him.

And Jason was acting just like him.

Jason can and has screwed up and failed due to his own actions, but it was never the reason Batman became upset with him. His reactions in the comics when Jason does things like running ahead and ‘jumping the gun,’ are more like this:

He either makes a teaching moment out of it or is attempts to understand Jason’s reasons in doing any such thing. When Bruce does become harsh in his discipline, it’s either when he feels as though Jason has endangered his own life or as I said, he acts too much like him.

While there are quite a few more similarities between Bruce and Jason that makes them alike, such as both being introverted and interested in obtaining all sorts of knowledge that they might not even feel is relevant, they are both, at the core of their characters, deeply caring and compassionate people.

The differences only start to show with how they act on it.

The Not-So Dynamic Duo?

“What happened to you as a child, the terror, the pain, the horrors (...) you were broken, and I thought I could put the pieces back together. I thought I could do for you what could never be done for me. Make you whole.”

Hot take. Jason Todd is a villain and is best written as a villain. 

Not in that campy way like he’s written during Dick and Damian’s Batman and Robin run while wearing that stupid pill-headed hood, (although, I grant he has a few lines that are enjoyable to read) but in all his serious, vengeful and downright brutal motives. 

The Red Hood is the perfect Batman villain because he’s so different from what the widely perceived perfect foil to the controlled and disciplined Bat is...the Joker. 

The Red Hood was vengeance at its purest. It is justice without being tempered by mercy. It is the rage of victims who were forgotten to become statistics. While other vigilantes wait for a cure, hope for rehabilitation, and pretend their system works, the Red Hood is a man of no such faith.

And this makes him a villain. And a damn good one.

During the Red Hood’s time as a crime lord in Gotham, he goes around blowing up buildings. He throws grenades into trucks. He mows down his competition with gunfire. Batman comes upon the bloodied hanged corpse of a man he was finished interrogating. 

But what is so compelling about this all is that before all the murder, all the guns and explosions, Jason Todd was a very different little boy. And all the great and memorable villains start that way.

The Joker is not someone you’re meant to sympathize with or even understand. In fact, I find him more terrifying because he’s unknown. He has no backstory (unless you want to believe the one he gave in Killing Joke, but the clown has a new story for every face he meets) and seemingly does what he does for a laugh of all things.

Jason Todd is in pain. He’s traumatized. Betrayed. Buried. Replaced. He is no one’s son because his father abandoned him.

Once upon a time, Jason Todd was a boy who saved himself. One of the biggest lies that Batman himself perpetuates is that he saved Jason from a life of crime. He tells Alfred that Jason was always dangerous. Bruce simply took him off the streets before he could be any worse.

But I don’t believe that’s true.

Jason grew up surrounded by crime, poverty, substance abuse and yet this amazing kid saved himself everyday by making a conscious choice to be kind and care about school, care about keeping his mother alive for over a year when he was just a child himself. That amazing kid was magic. 

Jason Todd as Robin was magic.

“Jason smiles. A bright smile. The kind Robin, the Boy Wonder should have.”

A good portion of his character’s assassination was in order to push the Tim is the perfect Robin idea. It was editorial decisions. The same ‘suits’ who insisted that Tim Drake be the Robin in the New Adventures cartoon despite having Jason’s backstory and personality. But I digress on that. 

Jason Todd was an introverted, studious, and emphatic person. He wanted to make friends with other kids his age even though he was a loner at heart. He joined the school baseball team and was a class officer, even if his training kept him from most social interactions.

He was also very much in tune with non-verbal cues and small changes in the environment around him. He was a thoughtful person who could be found admiring the stars or passing by scenery. When he teams up with the New Teen Titans, we get to see these aspects of his personality:

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so beautiful before. We’re actually riding above the clouds.”

“Every so often, I notice you become awfully agitated...like something was going on you didn’t want to be part of. Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”

It didn’t take Bruce long to fall in love with this boy and ask to legally adopt him. He found him to be smart, thoughtful, quick at learning and funny as hell. Their first meeting opens with Batman laughing in the very same alley his heart was ripped out decades earlier. 

Even in the Rebirth canon, (RHATO #48) we see that Bruce is already set on taking in Jason while he’s still with Ma Gunn’s school. He likes this kid. A lot.

“Butler, actually. You’ll meet him someday, I’m sure.”

Jason Todd was happy. Most of the time. Unfortunately, he still wrestled with depression and would sleep all day on occasion and could be found crying hidden away on his own, withdrawn from the concerned Bruce and Alfred.

In A Death in the Family, Alfred and Bruce sit down and discuss Jason’s worsening mental health, particularly after the Diplomat’s Son where Jason becomes witness to sexual assault, suicide and the failings of both Batman and the GCPD to protect innocent people. Barbara, his tutor, someone he cared about and got along with, is also shot a few months earlier.

Bruce thinks Jason has become suicidal. Alfred does not disagree with this theory and supplements it with things he’s observed himself about the ‘lad.’

“I’ve come upon him, several times, looking at that battered old photograph of his mother and father, crying. When he’s seen me, he’s hidden the picture and left the room, refusing to talk.”

It is then that Jason discovers the truth about his mother at the worst possible time, when he’s not even thinking straight, and thus leads way to the tragedy that will be his murder at the hand’s of the Joker.

The Curse of Jason Todd

“Do you have any idea what you have done?! Do you? You have no inkling of what you’ve created -- what you have unleashed! You have set free a curse upon this world!”

Red Hood: Lost Days, which depicts Jason’s dark post-resurrection origin, opens with Ra’s al Ghul bellowing this line, the steam from the Lazarus Pit still rising off of him. 

I’m not going to analyze this line, I’m just using it to supplement a point of mine I hope I’m getting through well enough. The Red Hood is a compelling, tragic villain. He is similar to Batman in ways that Bruce always knew and may have even feared because of how intimately he knows his own deepest, darkest thoughts. Jason is the perfect foil as an antagonist for him because of what he represents to Bruce.

And it’s not his anger, or his rage, or even his brutality. 

It’s his compassion. His caring. His emotions. And how they can open up the worst parts of themselves. 

Both are motivated by preventing whatever trauma happened to them from ever happening to anyone else. They both trained for years with this motivation. And they’ve both acted out on the very person who inflicted their trauma onto them.

Here’s where their paths start to differ, however, and what separates them with a line of morality.

They both get angry. They both care so damn much. About Gotham, about innocents, about each other. They both get too emotionally invested and deal with consequences related to that. To manage with that, Bruce shuts down. He creates all these choices, rules and symbols. He uses every ounce of his self control to keep them. 

Bruce Wayne is not a good person. He forces himself to be with discipline and will. He chooses to be a good man and constantly pushes himself to live up to that. Because it’d be too damn easy to be just like the Red Hood.

Jason doesn’t understand that. Because no matter what Bruce had done or will do, he doesn’t hate him. He can’t. Despite his denial of the fact to different people, he still thinks of Bruce as his father. This great figure that so many others revere and are even intimidated by.

He’s not the only bat-kid to think of Bruce in this light despite the fact that the man is not. It took Dick years to overcome that perception. Tim only just started to begin understanding this true nature after his own father was murdered. 

But even if he did understand his (once)father, he still became the complete opposite of him despite so many early parallels. He doesn’t hold back his words and emotions, he doesn’t go into a state of controlled dissociation or emotional disengagement.

Jason Todd—the Red Hood—is Batman without all his rules and control. In a way, he’s what the darkest part of Batman himself wants to be. Jason does what Batman can’t do when it’s needed.

Because in Batman’s book, life beats out justice. Even if he could take down abusers and murderers, he won’t. He will choose saving and protecting lives over the apprehension of killers...he always does.

Batman is justice. Red Hood is vengeance.

Jason is a victim’s fantasy. He punishes and kills the guilty. Something Batman won’t do.

He is the anti-Batman for better or for worse.

[goodolreliable-crows]

Nightmares and confessions 

Bumswiftery cuz this ship needs more content.

Smoking cw

Skittery stood in the bathroom area of the lodge, debating whether pumping water to wash his face would be too loud and wake the other boys. It was late, although he didn’t know the exact time. He had been trying to save up for a pocket watch but never could scrap together the funds. Judging by the soft sounds of the boys deep in slumber in the next room over and the crescent moon in the sky, he determined it was around midnight. 

He had woken up clammy from a nightmare and didn’t feel like trying to fall asleep again. He had seen some of the other boys have nightmares- Blink mostly, who frequently woke up screaming at any hours of the night before Mush had to rush over and comfort him. He never had dreams like that, which he was thankful for. He couldn’t imagine what that boy had been through to continue to be tortured by his own mind like that. 

The nightmares he had were just vague unsettling things that continuously crept over his mind the rest of the day, or at least until he snatched a cigar from someone. They were usually about improbable, sometimes childish things he felt guilty for letting bother him- monsters, his little brother getting hurt, or his family finding out something about him that he didn’t want anyone knowing. 

Not that he had any secrets that bothered him like that. That’s what he told himself. 

He decided it wasn’t worth it to get water, instead leaning his elbows on the trough and setting his head against his forearms. The cool breeze from the early spring rainstorm drifting in from the drafty windows felt nice against the clammy, bare skin of his back. 

He just wanted to sleep. He was so tired every day no matter what he did. 

After a few silent moments, listening to the rain, he felt the warmth of fingertips creep suddenly onto his shoulder. He jumped up, turning around and instinctively taking a defensive position with his fists balled. It was dark, but the curly mop of brown hair, hazel-green eyes, and toned muscles, visible even through his undershirt, told him who it was. Swifty was always doing that, sneaking up behind people and startling them whether he meant it or not. He was too nimble, too light on his feet. 

“Jeez, what’d ya do that for?” Skittery  whispered furiously, his face growing hot as he wished he had pulled on a shirt when he was leaving his bunk.

“Sorry, wanted to make sure you’s ok,” Swifty whispered back, his cheeks slightly red. 

Of course it had to be Swifty, Skittery thought to himself. Swifty had to be the one to wake up, when he was one of the two causing all these problems in the first place. 

Skittery didn’t blame the two boys for the feelings he got. It wasn’t their fault that he got lost in his head whenever Bumlets flipped his hair out of his face, or that he got a funny feeling in his stomach when Swifty adjusted his clothes. And it certainly wasn’t their fault for that sour, jealous mood that he couldn’t seem to shake after he walked into the lodge early one day, finding Bumlets being pushed up against the wall by Swifty, kissing his neck with his hands at his waist. 

That wasn’t his business. He just wanted a lover- he was jealous for the relationship they had, that was all. He wasn’t going to let his silly envy get in the way of his friendship, or let it bother whatever they had going on. 

“Can’t sleep?”

“No.” 

Skittery watched as Swifty sat down on the weathered floorboards, much to his dismay, his dangling suspenders clattering on the hardwood. He wasn’t in the mindset to stay up with someone. He glanced back to his empty bunk, briefly pondering if he could return to it without seeming rude. He decided against it, reluctantly joining the boy on the floor and crossing his legs. 

“You sick or something? You felt hot,” He asked softly. Swifty knew how hard it was to get Skittery into a conversation when he didn’t initiate it. It was somewhat of a skill, trying to carefully word his sentences to draw him in. Unfortunately, he was still groggy himself, meaning he wasn’t as slick with his tongue as he could be. 

“No, just had a nightmare,” the tall boy mumbled back. 

“You wanna tell me about it?” Swifty patiently asked. 

“Already forgetting it.” 

Swifty nodded, resigning himself to the fact that he wasn’t going to get much of a conversation out of him. After a beat of silence, he dug around in the pockets of his shorts and procured a cigarette, offering it to him. Skittery’s gaze flicked from it back to the other boy's eyes, before taking it from him and setting it in the corner of his mouth. 

After successfully striking a match and lighting the cigarette, tendrils of smoke curling into the air, he leaned back on his elbows and looked Swifty up and down. 

“What about you, huh? What are you doin’ up so early?” 

“Just couldn’t sleep. Have a lot going on in my head,” he answered, somewhat relieved that the cigarette seemed to do the trick to get Skittery out of his shell, at least a little bit. 

He hesitated for a moment, as if deciding whether he gave a fulfilling answer, before holding out the lit cigarette, embers glowing bright in the otherwise dark room. Swifty eyed him curiously, his bright eyes picking out details of the other boy's body best as he could in the darkness. 

“When I get nightmares I cozy up to Bumlets, ya know. You ain’t got someone like that? A gal or a fella or nothin’?” Swifty asked, after passing the cigarette back. 

Skitterys expression stiffened as he tried to ignore the knot forming in his stomach. 

“No, I ain't got a gal like that. And I ain’t like you either.” 

“Like me?” The curly haired boy replied, his eyebrows raising. 

“Ya know with the,” Skittery’s eyes darted to the floor, unable to meet his eyes. “With the fellas.” 

Swifty pulled his legs against his chest, narrowing his eyes. “Well jeez, that ain’t what I was askin’.” 

“It ain’t your business.” 

Swifty sighed, knowing he had ruined what little softness he had pried out of him. “Don’t see how. You’s a looker, Skits.” 

Skittery felt his face flush, accompanied by a strange fluttering in his chest. He hated it. These feelings were stupid, impractical, and most importantly, could never be replicated. Swifty had Bumlets. They were happy together, and Skittery would just have to suck it up and bear through the agony that came with seeing them cuddling at night, or exchange kisses on the cheek in the morning, or playfully ruffle each other’s hair before buying papers. 

It had never occurred to him how much these things bothered him until he had Swifty all to himself, with nothing else but a shared cigarette and that wretched insomnia. 

“I’m going to try to sleep,” Skittery mumbled suddenly, Standing up and heading back towards the threshold between the bathroom and the bunks. In one motion, Swifty grabbed his wrist, pulled him back, and pinned his waist to the counter, gazing up at his face through the thick darkness. 

“What the hell’s up with you lately, John?” He whispered furiously, tightening his grip below his ribs. Skittery stood like a statue, his mouth gaping open as he prayed his weak knees would hold him. Their chests were almost touching, and he could feel the steady rise and fall of his stomach against his own in the brief eternity before he could cough out an answer. 

“Nothin’”, he said, his voice coming out small. His heart drummed as he watched a lock of Swifty's hair uncurl itself from his bangs and fall neatly onto his forehead. His eyes glistened in the shadows, filled with suspicion and curiosity.

“Nothings goin’ on with me, why’d you think that?” 

“I dunno, maybe how you can’t seem to stand being around me during the day?” 

Skittery took a breath, his arms glued to his sides. “It’s just me bein’ dumb, alright? Don’t worry about it.” 

“Worry about it?! Skits you...” he slowly released his grip, his hands trailing down from his waist to his hips. “You ain’t...”

“I ain’t what,” Skittery breathed, barely audible over his heartbeat.  

And in a split second, Swifty closed the gap between their mouths, his eyes fluttering shut as Skittery’s hands found their way onto the back of his neck. It was a tender, slow kiss, filled with questions and curiosity. Every thought or strange feeling left over from his nightmare had vanished. He wasn't sure if the rain was still falling- he couldn't hear a thing. Skittery discovered the other boy's lips were surprisingly silky, and he pulled away, chest heaving, with a fruity taste on his tongue. 

“Why the hell did ya do that?” Skittery said quietly, his fingers biting into the shorter boy’s shoulders. 

He shrugged in response, apparently more agitated from his response than alarmed from kissing his friend. 

“I don’t get you, Victor,” he said uneasily as he saw Swifty’s face drifting up towards his again. 

“Stop.” He pushed him away by his shoulders, struggling to put space in between them. “We can’t do this, Vic, what the hell is wrong with you?” 

“Do I really gotta walk you through why it’s ok to kiss a fella?”He answered in a bemused tone. 

“It ain’t that, Swifty!” he said furiously, forgetting to lower his voice. “You think I don’t wanna do that every time I see ya?! You think I've been putting myself through this shit for nothin’? I ain’t meant for romance. And whatever feelings that gave me ain’t exactly exclusive to you either. I couldn’t make no one happy like they want me to. Nothin’ like that will ever work out for me.” He shoved him away, walking a few paces towards the windows. “And how could ya do somethin’ like this to a sweet fella like Bumlets?!” he added, his voice quiet again. 

Swifty was strangely composed, standing straight up with his hands in his pant pockets. It was strange to see his friend like this. Skittery always spent most of his time contemplating everything, analyzing conversations and movements to make sure he was completely understanding what was going on. He never let a thing go misinterpreted. He was better with being told things straight out- it surprised Swifty that a kiss, which to Skittery might’ve meant anything, for once got his point across efficiently. 

“That’s what you’s worked up about? That I kissed you while I still got Bumlets?” He asked, collected despite the fact his heart was still racing. “Me and him have been talkin’, Skits. He likes you too.”

The other boy froze, the words sending a peculiar feeling down his spine. “What do ya mean by that?” 

“I mean he likes ya, I like ya, and we like each other.” He slowly approached him, as if to not startle him away. “I’m sayin’ if you wanna be in on whatever we got going on,” he trailed off, tenderly slipping his arms around his waist again. 

“Ya mean it, Victor? You two…” he mumbled tentatively, his own hands creeping onto his midsection. 

And before he knew it they were kissing again, searing and passionate. It was something that happened on instinct, a thing Skittery didn’t let control him very often. It was as relieving as it was terrifying. 

Skittery pulled away abruptly, responding to Swifty's confused expression by holding a finger to his lips. He peered over him through the darkness at all the boys seemingly still asleep in the next room over. They were too visible for his liking, especially since he knew many of them pretended to be asleep to pry into others' business. 

He grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him into one of the bathroom stalls, where they whispered little confessions in between long kisses, all the way till light started shining in from under the door and the clamor of waking boys told them they were moments from being discovered.

__________

The next day was gray, with rain that sprinkled heavily on and off. Normally, this would send Skittery into a worse mood than usual, causing him to barely get any papers sold, rather spending his day under shop awnings with the stack over his head. However he barely noticed the rain, and although his mouth was in a tight line and his eyebrows furrowed, there was a pink tinge to his cheeks that he couldn’t get rid of. 

He remembered saying a lot to Swifty the night before, mostly embarrassing, sappy things that he carried on his shoulders with an air of shame. He remembered something about being in love, something about his heart melting when he sees Bumlets, something about him not being able to believe that the two handsomest guys in the lodge liked him. Recalling it made him cringe. He couldn’t believe he would let his guard down like that now that he was out of the moment. 

He knew he had to talk to Bumlets soon and work out his feelings for him as he did with Swifty, but he could barely stand to be in the same room with either of them. He left early, turning away after hearing one of them call his name. He was aware he was just avoiding something that would have to be dealt with eventually. He was no good with feelings, or change for that matter. 

Luckily the opportunity presented itself sooner than he preferred, when he settled on a bench under a damp umbrella in the park. It was a particularly heavy batch of rain, making him shiver no matter how tight he pulled his coat around him. He suddenly felt himself sandwiched by warmth, one of the boys on each side of him. 

“Hey Skits,” he heard Bumlets say, although his gaze stayed fixed on the patch of ground in front of him. “Heard you was bein’ sweet with my fella last night,” he said in an amused tone, hitting his shoulder with his own. 

Skittery felt paralyzed, staying silent as both boys looked at him expectantly. He felt a raindrop snake down his neck and down his collar. 

“Why don’t ya tell Bumlets some of those things you told me last night,” Swifty added once it was clear that he wasn’t going to respond. 

“Won’t you two leave me alone till later,” he finally answered, snapping his head up and looking at the boy on the right. He immediately regretted it. Bumlets’ damp bangs were drooping onto his forehead, his brown eyes illuminated curiously by the  raindrops coming down. His shirt was half unbuttoned, revealing his collarbone dotted with freckles. 

“We ain’t gonna leave you alone, Skits, not with weather as romantic as this!” He motioned wildly with his hand, collecting a few raindrops in his palm before drying it off on Skittery’s knee. “But we also ain’t gonna pressure you or nothin, right Bumlets?” Swifty added. 

Skittery let both boys set their arms around him, although his shoulders were stiff and his face was hot. The three sat there, listening to each other breathing for hours with their arms tangled. The tall boy in the middle indulged himself just a little bit more by the minute, letting himself grow comfortable between them. He knew that's what he wanted. He knew that that’s what he had been dreaming about subconsciously for a lot longer than he cared to admit. It would take time for him to adjust, as it always did for him with new experiences and changes of his life. 

But he was trying to get better at change. Maybe that’s why he let Swifty kiss his cheek, after checking that the rain had driven everyone out of the park. Maybe that’s why he let Bumlets take his waist and kiss him softly, when the moment felt right. And that’s why they walked back to the lodge, shivering, with their arms still hooked around each other, the tallest boy feeling on top of the world.

[natsukitakama]

Hi there 👀💙 would you like to do headcanons or a scenario of man bun Eren as a detective who is in a investigation and has to go to and ask a hot 🥵 bartender about what she saw that night 🌙

Author note : Hi there ! Thank you so much for requesting this and for your patience. It took me a long time to write it down it seemed like any version was worth it. But I finally managed to write something I'm confident about ♡ I hope you’ll enjoy this 

Warning : mention of gun / mention of people getting drunk (be careful !) / slight nsfw / AU 

words : 2680 

i do not own the gif credit to the owner

Masterlist 

The case was pretty usual : A drunk man came into a bar with a gun, threaten everyone in here and then passed out because of the alcohol. Nothing would justify to call Detective Yeager at 3 AM. Groaning he moved around his bed looking for his phone. 

His captain explained to him that apparently the man just « disappeared » after being arrested by the police officer. The man was laying on the ground too drunk to stand up by himself so the newbie has to help him and then the man apparently has just disappeared as if he wasn’t here in the first place. 

So obviously everyone in the bar was blocked by the police so they could interrogate them but none of the officer was as good as Detective Yeager when it came to question people. 

So of course Eren didn’t have much choice but to move from his bed and get ready for his next day at work. 

When he finally found the bar, the detective was impressed by two things : the amount of people including police man and the mess around the bar. Looking at everything, Eren was looking for anything that might prove the drunk man was helped by someone outside but he found nothing in particular. His first idea was that the man was helped by someone who was currently in the bar, the question was to now who was in charge. 

Walking around, the detective eyed everyone : everyone seemed guilty to him, they all had that look who betrays their true nature, everyone but you. 

You were standing close to your counter, looking everywhere but not into the detective’s direction as if you were trying to not be seen. Unfortunately for you, you were the one who caught his attention. So he walked right into your direction which bothered you (he noticed the way your brows frowned) and then when you realized that he was walking to you your faced betrayed your own fear 

The detective sat in front of you with a small smile on his face, he put both of his hand on the counter. He chose to adopt a neutral gesture in hope that you’ll feel more comfortable around him. 

« Hello, I am Detective Yeager may I ask your name ? » 

« Y/N sir » 

« I am sorry to bother you during your work but I’m actually working on a case : apparently one of your customer decided to just leave without telling us am I right ?  »

« Well, you’ll need to be more precise Lieutenant there a lot of people who visit us today »

« *chuckle* Right, well his name won’t tell you anything but he is kinda tall with some blonds hair on his head, no beard, chubby and well he loves alcohol to the point he would passe out from this. »

« Oh »

« One of my co-worker called me during the night to inform me about the man but we couldn’t find anything that might prove that he was in your bar last night. So I went directly into the bar and noticed that you were the only one who seemed to not want to talk with us. May I ask you why ?  » 

« I-It’s just that police officer scare me » 

« It’s okay Miss Y/N I wouldn’t bother you if this case wasn’t important especially since my presence seems to frighten you »

« It’s not you it’s just well I guess I’m just not comfortable around police officer » 

« Then don’t see me as a police man »

« Excuse me ? »

« Yeah see me as someone a little bit curious okay ? You can even call me Eren if you want to. That’s my name eren » 

« Alright Eren would you like a drink ? »

«  *chuckle* gossip won’t be as good without a drink, a whisky please do something for you too »

Then both of you started to talk, gossip, about what happened in that bar couple of hours ago. Unfortunately it didn’t help that much the detective since you were kinda busy when the accident happened. But the detective wasn’t convinced of your story but for now he didn’t have anything that might prove you were lying to him (and for what ? For what he’s known you seemed nice and carrying or at least you appeared like this) 

When it came to you, you couldn’t help but feel attracted to the man right in front of you. You couldn’t explain it but he makes you feel at ease.  The man was not only handsome but he was nice, he looked like he really cared about your well being but it wasn’t just that : his hands were quite attractive too, you were wondering how they would feel on yours or around your neck. The way he was sitting in his chair, his back quite straight his large shoulder might betray a muscular body which you would gladly cover with kiss. 

« Miss Y/N ? »

« … Uh.. yeah ? Sorry » 

« It’s okay I was asking you if it was okay to take your number just in case I got another question for you. » « Yeah  sure » 

After that you two started to text each other, at first the detective was taking some news, and then both of you started to talk every day. You were even thinking that he was flirting with you which got you some butterflies in your stomach. One day he even asked you if he could come over since he got something to tell you, of course you told him he could come whenever he wanted to. Next day, was supposed to be the day he met you again since your gossip into the bar. You did everything in order to look pretty because for you, he was coming to start something with you. 

For the detective it was especially a day to have finally his answer. Since your last talk he has investigated on every workers on the bar : everyone has something to be ashamed of, it could be theft, attack, fraud. But you, you were clean. Way too clean for a work like this, if someone has helped the drunk man to leave it has to be you. So yeah maybe Eren took advantage of the fact that you were attracted to him to flirt with you in order to get intimate with you : this way he would have everything he wants from you. 

Lost in your thought you didn’t hear the first knock in your door, but you definitely hear the detective calling you behind it. Walking quickly you finally opening the door and let him go penetrate in your house. Then you moved into your kitchen to give him a mug of coffee, he noticed that your hands were shaking probably because you were nervous. He couldn’t help but smile at it, everything was moving according to his will. In other circumstances he would find you cute to be so nervous. You didn’t noticed the way the lieutenant looked at you : up and down with a smirk, yeah this is going to be fun he thought. While you were doing everything in order to not show him how nervous you were (you failed), you felt it, he was staring at you, looking at the way you were pulling the water in your coffee maker, the way you took your sugar box. Lieutenant Yeager never stopped to stare you, looking at any sign of discomfort, anything that might tell him you were anxious. He did notice your behavior and the way your body was so tensed but he knew it wasn’t because of the case but because of him. His presence made you nervous, and god did he love that that form of power he had on your body. He couldn’t think more because you were turning back with his coffee and a cup of juice which was for you, walking slowly into his direction you put the mug slowly without look at him. 

« Thank you Miss Y/N you’re too good for me I’m really lucky » (he didn’t miss the way your body shiver because of his compliment) 

« Your welcome Eren it’s nothing really » 

Oh you were working too hard to remain your composure, it’s too satisfying for the detective  to not play with it. He had to play around since officially he was flirting you since your first meeting. 

« No really I mean it… People tends to despise us, they’re cooperating because they had to but none of them aren’t as good as you are  Y/n »

« I just gave you a cup of coffee, it’s not a big deal » (where this confidence came ? You had no idea) 

Chuckling the Lieutenant took the mug to drink a little bit of your coffee never break the contact with your eyes. 

« You’re right  Y/N my apologies. » 

« It’s okay. Well you said you were here for something ?»

« Yeah I wanted to tell you that you don’t have to be afraid anymore you won’t see a police officer anymore  » 

« I won’t ? »

« Exactly. I finally found the people I was looking for »

« You mean the drunk man ? Didn’t lost it this time »

« *chuckling* not him but I know someone helped him and I finally discover who he was» 

« That’s good I guess who is it then ? »

« I can’t tell you now cause I didn’t catch them yet  » 

« Dont loose them this time »

« It’s the second time you’re being cocky to me Y/N should I punish you for that ?"

« I- What ? » 

« You hear me » 

Not daring to say a word, you looked at him not knowing what to do to be honest. You expected him to flirt with you, but you couldn’t imagine he would be so straightforward about it. But you won’t push him back, you were craving for his attention. 

« I don’t know should I be punished ? For what I’ve know I’ve been good »

« *chuckling* Yeah Y/N you’ve been good but don’t push your luck good S/O behave»

« I do i mean I would detective»

« Sir. »

«  Sir ? Y’-you want me to call you sir »

« Should I repeat myself ? »

« No Sir » 

« Good. Would you go to the bed ? »

« Now you’re being cocky » 

« Funny coming from the one who looked at him like I was a piece of meat »

« I WAS NOT… I wasn’t staring »

« There’s nothing in wrong in that I did too » 

« Excuse me ? » 

The only answer you got was his laugh, damn it sound good to your hear. You were wondering if his moan would sound as good. But you didn’t have more time to think about it, because Eren took your hand on his to pull you on his laps. Surprised by his action you couldn’t help but yelp a bit which makes him laugh even more. 

« You shouldn’t be laughing right now »

« Why ? I found it funny »

« It’s mean »

« Oooh my poor Y/N guess I wasn’t good to you »

« Maybe »

« I would fix this»

« Oh yeah? » 

« Absolutely. »

Again, he put his hand on your thighs to lift you (way to easily this man was stronger than you expect him to be), before you could process anything he put you on your bed him on you with that damn smirk never seemed to disappear. 

« So you’re telling me that having me under you on my bed is a part of your way to apologize for being mean to me ? »

« Shh let me surprise you. »

« I’m expecting a lot of thins sir »

« Spoil you would be don’t worry about it»

« Do not make promise you can take  »

« I plan on pleasure you the whole day Y/N how does that sound to you ?»

« Sounds good to me Sir » 

That’s how you ended up on your bed, all spread for Eren. Even when he flirted with you, you couldn’t imagine what he will do to you. At first he was kinda sweet, after you agreed, he put both of his hand on your cheeks to kiss you. It was soft at first, probably testing the water, but when he felt your hands on his neck and hairs he knew he could deepen the kiss. One of his hand quickly moved right on your hips to put you closer to his hand body which result on you moaning slightly because of the surprise. Eren took advantage of it, his tongue met yours in your mouth fighting for dominance. Your makeout session ended up with you laying again on your bed, your hand above your head, his writs hold both of your hands. 

« So i’m gonna question you and everytime I feel like you’re lying to me I’ll punish you, if I’m feeling like you’re telling me the truth I’ll reward you is that alright for you Y/N ? »

« What ? »

« Answer »

« Y-Yes sir » 

He did as he said, everytime he asked you something : it could be as simple as what’s your name, or more difficult like giving a detail about the man he was looking for. Each time you lied to time, you were punished, meaning he was slapping your butt ten time at least. When you were telling him the truth or when he felt like you couldn’t know the answer he was rewarding you, most of time he was kneeling down in front of you, teasing you at first until he finally gave you what you were craving for. However, no matter if he was punishing you or rewarding you, it felt so good. You couldn’t count on many time you came already, and he was just playing with you : he literally got you wrapped around his finger. Lost in your pleasure you never noticed that he was little by little questioning you about what happened during that night with the drunk man. Kiss by kiss, stroking by stroking he got every little details he was craving for. At first he noticed the change in your behavior : you went from a shy little bartender to a more confident people, the way you were looking at him as if you had him right where you wanted him to be. Even your voice change a little bit. He was sure now you were a fraud it had to be you. 

And then, when he felt like foreplay was enough he decided to finally have your confession. He moved you so you were on your four for him, ass up chest down. Without telling you anything, he put both of his hand on your hips and put the base of his manhood right into you. And with a slow thrust he went into you. Teasing you so you were loosing yourself in the pleasure he was giving to you but even like that Eren didn’t manage to get what he was looking for : your confession. Thrusting again and again, stroking every inch of your body to put you right into the edge but nothing came except your beg for release. Edging you again and again until he couldn’t take it anymore, himself being sensitive for not himself from coming into you. When you both were done, laying on your bed catching your breath. You moved from the bed to have some proper after care. 

« Where are you going ? »

« Cleaning myself sir’ should I ask you permission for that too ? » 

« No of course not »

« Sure I think you question me enough » 

« I did no… what ? »

« You thought I didn’t notice detective ? » 

« You ? »

« Well you got what you wanted and I got what I wanted so I guess we’re good »

« What I wanted ? What do you mean ? Hey ! » 

You didn’t let him finish his sentence, you closed your bathroom door to clean yourself. Couple of minute later, Eren decided to join you, but when he opened the door no one was here just a paper on the mirror. It was written a couple words in here : Lost again let’s try again shall we ? Damn you. 

[unmanageable-day]

By your side | 09 (end)

MASTERLIST // previous chapter: 08

Summary.  For the introvert Song Yeoreum, having an extrovert boyfriend like Johnny Seo was something she never imagined before. Fortunately it turned out pretty good, and the relationship between Yeoreum and Johnny lasted for 4 years. Unfortunately, it reached a point when Johnny started to think everything felt different, that Yeoreum probably has changed.

a/n: after months of having no inspiration for this, I’ve finally come back :") unfortunately i have to make this chapter the last one because i currently have no idea how to go on with the plot, and i mayhaps lost my notes on this story too :") therefore, if anyone used to read this fic, i'm sorry for the abrupt ending. nonetheless i hope you enjoy reading this!

One week had passed, and Johnny was still able to calm himself. She needs time and I will give as much as she needs, he told himself on repeat. In no time, one week had changed into one month. His patience hadn't betrayed him, yet he was getting more anxious. Isn't a month too long? Anything can happen within the past 30 days. By anything he meant the possibility of Jaehyun and you. What stressed him even more was none of his friends now told him about any recent updates about you. The universe worked its magic by never putting you and Johnny in a same project anymore. If anything, your schedule and his never matched that these days he couldn't even see you in the office. Lately Ten and Doyoung was getting closer with Jaehyun as well, but they won't spill anything whenever he tried to seek information about you and Jaehyun.

Johnny started to lose his sanity when it was almost three months without you making any contact with him. He tried to ask you out twice, which successfully getting turned down because you always said to have other stuff to do. Everyday his thumbs had to resist not to text you although all he wanted just to ask casually how you're doing. He already expected you to come up with short answers and wrap up the conversation immediately. But it would be still better than being like this.

One day he happened to see you working overtime. The best idea he had was to wait for you and take you home. Except, Jaehyun seemed to think exactly the same thing and he had made his moves. There he was, sitting beside you, unboxing some food and drinks from a paper bag. Johnny was contemplating whether he would join the two of you or not. With an endless train of thoughts messing with his head and his feelings, approaching you did not seem to be a good idea.

They're friends, John. They are friends. Jung Jaehyun is not more than a friend, just like Jungkook. Jung Jaehyun must be only friends. Johnny won't get tired saying this to himself.

Jung Jaehyun has to be friends.

But it wasn't Johnny if he didn't find himself eventually losing it. So one day, without thinking much further, he decided to confront Jaehyun. When he arrived in front of the broadcasting room where Jaehyun was still on air, that was when his brain started to work.

A sigh escaped Johnny's lips. He felt exhausted even before he did anything. What am I doing here?

As he was about to leave, Jaehyun roughly opened the door, making Johnny startled.

"John?"

"Jaehyun." The taller managed to be as firm and stand tall. He cannot lose like this.

"What are you doing here?"

Although with puzzled face, Johnny maintained his intense eye contact towards Jaehyun. Usually Jaehyun would feel intimidated, but not today. He managed to be calm and asked Johnny to talk in a cafe nearby. He already knew where this conversation would go, and the last thing he wanted was to be watched by the other staff.

Jaehyun spent the first 10 minutes being silent. His hot americano on the table remained full and now it was warm. "I'm gonna be straightforward. I hope you'd understand."

"If it's about Yeoreum—"

"It is." Johnny quickly cut him out. "I'm trying to work things out between us. But with you in the picture..." he shook his head slowly, his eyes looking for sympathy as he continued, "Please, don't take her away from me."

"Wait, I'm in the picture?" Jaehyun repeated his words in disbelief, before screaming internally, 'You are in the picture when she and I are trying to get somewhere to figure things out. Now I am in the picture?'

Johmmy was surprised to see how Jaehyun got worked up a little bit. "Jaehyun, please.."

"Nobody is taking her away from you. If she's thinking what you're thinking, wouldn't she find her way to go back to be by your side?"

"I know I did wrong.."

"I don't want to say this, but admit it, Johnny. She’s not going back," Jaehyun almost raised his voice. On a daily basis, he was never one to speak with high tone, nor with intense emotion.

Johnny can't go on with his words. He was devastated and there was nothing Jaehyun could do to console him. Suddenly Jaehyun got up to pick up a phone call.

"Oh, Yeoreum?" Eyeing Johnny, he talked quite loudly, making sure that Johnny was aware of how things got more seriously between you and him. "Okay, I'll go there. Wait for me."

"Jaehyun, please, I'm begging you," Johnny continued as the younger hung up his call. "Yeoreum just needs more time. I know we can go through this. We can work this out.."

"Johnny, you need help. You're drunk too, I can smell alcohol from your breath."

Johnny wouldn't admit it that he did had a few glasses of liquor although it was not even 9 PM. He spent a little bit too much of time crying over his own acts at a bar. There were a lot of things going on his mind. You, Jaehyun, you and Jaehyun, and the relationship between you and him. Piles of work were not even included yet.

Jaehyun sighed. "I'll tell Doyoung to send somebody to pick you up."

"Please don't." Scolds and nags from either Doyoung or Taeyong was the last thing he would want to hear these days.

"Johnny, you can't drive under influence like this."

"Why would you care?"

"I don't, but Yeoreum? Maybe she still do care about you, Johnny. I just thought, if anything happens—please don't get me wrong, I just don't want Yeoreum to worry too much about you."

—

Driving without destination had been Johnny’s new routine for the past week. He left work earlier, making Doyoung wonder what he did after work. He rarely attended party, making Taeyong amused that he could survive without parties. He barely hung out with Mark, so the younger boy had to play with Lee Donghyuck and his same-age friends instead. He drove mindlessly and the next place he parked was your apartment. Then he found himself standing in front of your door, drowning in his own thoughts. The next second, the door was swung open, you being surprised with Johnny’s presence.

"I love you," was the first thing he said. Not even a ‘hello’, or a ‘how are you?’.

You looked unfazed. "Johnny, you're drunk."

"I'm not. Why would I drunk confess to you?" He let out a breathy laugh, not because something is funny. "I did drink, but only a little. You know I could handle alcohol pretty well."

"Johnny, I'll call a taxi for you, okay?"

"Why can't you let me talk?"

"What do you want to talk about?"

"Us." Johnny bent down, resting his forehead against your shoulder. His arms slowly approached your waist, asking for a hug. But your hands stopped them, tightly gripping his wrists on your sides. He lifted his upper body, his eyes finding yours with confusion.

"Johnny, I told you, don't wait for me."

"What if I am?"

"What if I'm not coming back to you?"

"That's just a 'what if'," he denied.

"Things are not the same between us anymore, Johnny. You have to let go."

‘Things are not the same between us anymore.’ Isn’t that my words when we broke up? Does it hurt this much when I said that?

"Are you with Jaehyun now?"

Squinting your eyes, you almost answer him with a raised tone, "Wha—"

Two guys loudly making a fake cough distracted you and Johnny who immediately turned to see who they were. Standing a few steps away from you and him were Jungkook and Jaehyun with their judging expression.

"Yeoreum, I've bought the soy sauce and sesame oil. Can you please assist Jaehyun cooking? He insists and he won't let me order take-out and I'm starving to death," Jungkook calmly said, once a while glancing and making eye contact to Johnny.

You were hesitating to move from your standing spot. If it wasn't for Jungkook pushing you back in to your apartment, you would have been frozen there and probably still engaged in that never-ending talk with your ex.

Johnny silently watched your back walking away with Jaehyun by your side, disappointment was evident in his face.

"Hyung, please, if you truly love her, let her go," Jungkook said before smoothly signaling gestures to go away to the older guy.

Sure, you did like Johnny. Who wouldn't? He was a good company, he laughed a lot—basically a happy virus, he took a good care of you and other people. But that's it. You never fought? Obviously, since you tended to keep it all to yourself. But this doesn't mean Johnny is a bad guy. He is always kind-hearted and gentle. But again, that's it. You simply accepted him because of that.

At the end of the day, it finally came to your senses. After the break up, it took you months later to realize that you did not like Johnny that way. You felt lighter without him. Still, probably due to all those parties. After all, it was the Johnny Suh. Being his girlfriend was definitely something. While with Jaehyun, everything went in a relatively slow pace. No rushing. And you were just being you, no need to try hard to be as 'superior' as the other. This just made you guilty and regret that you accepted him in the first place.

[prose-for-hire]

I know what you did last Halloween...

Part Two // Part Three // Part Four

Pairing: Scooby gang x reader (platonic)

This is a platonic story with the reader as part of the Scooby gang. Set season 3. It’s going to be a small multi-parted serial killer/slasher fic for Halloween. Reader lives with Giles, but is not related. The deaths in this part are not described in much detail. 

Not sure how popular it’ll be with you guys, but I’ve enjoyed writing it so far !! 🖤🦇

Warning: It is a serial killer fic, main characters are going to die (I’m sorry, it’s Halloween). Violence. Blood mention. Threat.

Sunnydale Scare? Scythe-wielding killer strikes again

Sunnydale Express, October 1999.

Sunnydale High school, not used to such horror inflicted on their student body since Principal Flutie’s unfortunate death in office [His memorial will be on the 31st as his family reveal it was his favorite time of year].

The scythe-wielding killer, who was seen wearing all-black with a festive mask, has claimed his most recent victims. Two members of the swim team found themselves in hot water after they were found with brutal and fatal injuries. The wounds matched the scythe that is commonly associated with the widely termed ‘Sunnydale slasher’.

It makes us wonder at the Sunnydale Express, why and how this idyllic town has managed to create such a monster?

You and the Scoobies were good friends. You helped save the world more than once whilst fighting algebra homework and Principal Snyder. You had moved from your hometown to Sunnydale at the same time as Buffy, meeting her on your first day and becoming best friends since that day. You had moved into Giles’ spare room after your parents had wanted to move on again. You had been sucked into the slaying and you couldn’t leave the others. Giles had been very accommodating and very much like a parental figure. Things had been going well, you were close to graduating and finally getting the hell out of there until one life-changing event that would forever be ingrained in your minds.

You and your friends were sat around the school canteen. The mood was pretty low and you were collectively checking over your shoulders every so often. You had been discussing the latest spate of murders. Surprisingly, it was widely covered by various news outlets and hadn’t been brushed under the rug as the usual demon relating killings were.

Buffy and Faith had been doing double patrolling, making sure there was always someone out after dark. Giles had been pleased but he wasn’t aware of the real reason. Although he had noted a difference in your mood in the past year. Despite the extra patrolling, no matter how many demon-snitches they beat up and threatened, there was no changing the answer they didn’t want to hear.

“So this… slasher? He’s-it’s-she’s-?” Xander spluttered through the pronouns in his disbelief.

“Yep. Human” Buffy shrugged, sighing and staring down at her food. Nobody had eaten anything. The lunch you all had set out in front of you was just for show. None of you could stomach much at the moment.

“Shouldn’t we have found them by now?” Willow wondered, her brow furrowing in frustration.

“It could be anyone. And I’m guessing they’re not exactly wearing their ‘I’m a killer come catch me’ sweater”

“Yeah, Giles says he’s gonna look into it, but unless it says ‘Scythe killer was here’ in one of those big old books…” You tail off as Buffy picks up your sentence.

“We’ve got zip. Nothing” Buffy nodded again. Conversation then turned. You had been in a deep discussion of something in low murmurs, that was until your best friends boyfriend walked in. A dead silence blanketed your table.

“The blank stares and silence make me feel at home” oz deadpanned and you all laughed slightly too loud at this. He squinted around the room, shrugged and then kissed Willow’s forehead before staring around at the odd vibe. He had noticed that none of you had been the same for at least a year, but anytime he tried to talk to Willow about it she just shook her head vigorously and locked herself in a different room until he dropped it.

“Well, I have some place to be that’s else. Or about three tables that way” He gestured with his head to where one of his bandmates were sat. Willow assured him she would come over and sit with them in a minute. After you finished a very important conversation.

“I can’t do this anymore, lying to him hurts my heart” Willow said sadly, shifting uncomfortably as if her heart was physically aching her, “I have to tell him”

“And how’re you gonna do that exactly, Will? Oh, hey there Oz remember last Halloween, well we-” Xander cut in harshly, trying to make Will be realistic.

“Stop it! We can’t talk about this here. Anyone could overhear, they already suspect I’m a slayer” Buffy said firmly.

“We have big mouths, sorry” You shrug, smiling tightly.

“This isn’t funny!” She snapped, the events of last year had her wound even more tightly than usual. She had more responsibility than she could handle on her shoulders as it was, let alone this secret weighing down on her like a

“I’m not laughing, Buff… I’m sorry” You whisper. You did feel guilty. You felt horrible. Some nights you barely slept, and when you did you had these horrible nightmares.

Oh, right. That guy that you killed. Well, it was a total accident and you were all very sorry at the time. I mean, you still are. But, thing is, you just didn’t happen to tell anyone or alert the correct authorities. Must have slipped your mind.

Let me paint the picture in case you managed to forget…

Last Halloween, you and your friends had been attending a Halloween party. Your collective night off from saving the world. Oz, who didn’t appear to be wearing a costume, had explained it was a shindig and you had all enjoyed the live music and spooky theme. Even Buffy had managed to relax.

Buffy had chosen little red riding hood and Willow was dressed as a knight in historically accurate chainmail. Cordelia was a cat, it was the back-up she always had in case her first choice fell through. She had shrugged, at least she looked good in it. You had decided on a werewolf, after apologising profusely to Oz who didn’t appear phased.

Xander was walking around in a karate outfit, something about being inspired by the copious violence he enjoyed on screen. Every so often he did a karate chop in mid-air and you and your friends would share a collective eye roll. Especially when he chopped some jock guy that he spent the rest of the evening hiding from. Whereas Faith was wearing as little as possible and appeared to be dressed as herself.

The band was playing decent music and the atmosphere was electric. You and Buffy had danced together while Willow and Xander laughed by the punch bowl. Out of nowhere, Faith joined the both of you and muscled you out of the way to dance with Buffy. You rolled your eyes, but knew better than to make a fuss so you went back to your other friends and joined them in conversation.

Buffy had borrowed her Mom’s car and had sneaked out while Joyce was sleeping. Joyce had been feeling a little under the weather and hadn’t noticed. When it was time to leave, she drove (badly) through the streets to drop everyone home. Oz was doing another set and would get a ride with the rest of his band.

You were squished in the back with Cordy, Xander and Willow. Faith had called shotgun. There were more people than there should be, with Cordy sitting precariously on Xander’s lap. It meant you and Willow were crushed together sharing an annoyed look as the pair continued to kiss.

Buffy looked out of the side window for a nicer view and managed to hit something in the road. You all screamed as she broke suddenly. You had hit something. Something big. You all got out to investigate and saw that it was a man. You went and shook his shoulder and he immediately sat up and grabbed at you. His grip tight and strong. You screamed as you looked at his face, there were fangs and his face looked bumpy. The others saw it too and Buffy pulled you away as Faith moved in and staked him.

The man struggled for a moment before going still. Blood had started to run from his heart and the stake that had been stabbed through it. You all just stared.

“W-why isn’t he going poof?” Willow whispered as you all just stared in horror. He had been human after all.

“It was a costume!” You shrieked in horror. Everyone’s blood turned cold. 

“We’ll have to bury him” Faith said quickly. Xander stayed silent, his eyes glazed in fear.

“We can’t!” Buffy said firmly.

“Look, it’s that or another stint in juvey and I’m not goin’ back there” Faith muttered and you all frowned, having not realised she had ever been.

“I think we should see if he has any ID, maybe we could-” You started, Willow nodding along.

“No, Faith’s right. We bury him” Xander said suddenly.

“Who made you decision-gal?” Buffy said, her usual fun language lost on the moment as she stared through Faith.

“I’m a slayer too, B. You’re not the boss” Faith tilted her head to the side and shrugged. You paused, thinking it over for a while.

“Buff, we can’t risk it. You and Faith are needed here – we can’t go to prison” You sigh, not sure if you fully believed what you were saying.

“Th-that’s actually true…” Willow said eventually, not looking anyone in the eye. It was hurting her conscience.

But that’s what you decided. For better or worse. You were all complicit now as you put him in the trunk and buried him in the graveyard in the early hours of the morning.

Nobody spoke as the sun started to rise and the plot you had chosen was no longer vacant. It had been hard to come to terms with ever since.

Missing – have you seen this man?

Sunnydale Express, 1998. November 2nd.

Mr Bates of Sunnydale California has been missing since Halloween night. Last seen leaving a party in the early hours. His wife and children are anticipating his return, although with the current rate of people vanishing often with no trace the Express, with their condolences, fears that Mr Bates may be one of a hundred Sunnydale citizens on Halloween night that will never return to their families.

This begs the question, where are all the missing going? Sunnydale has one of the largest cases of missing persons never being found in the state of California and statistics suggest it has the highest number compared to towns in neighboring states.

It had been a few days and something had shifted. Your friend’s mood was lower than ever and you were really worried about her. The guilt was eating away at her. It was so bad she finally had to talk to someone about it. Buffy was the most outwardly guilty one of you all. Covering for this went against everything she believed in. Fought for. Which is why she was probably being targeted the most.

You closed your locker and jumped, she had been standing behind it, waiting for you to notice her. She gave you an apologetic glance but still asked, “Hey, y/n, can we talk?”

“Sure, I didn’t wanna go to English anyway” You smile at her as you walk to the usual place under the stairwell you would hide when you needed to talk. She pressed a note into your hand which you unfolded and read:

‘I know what you did last Halloween…’

You gasped, looking around before looking back at her for some kind of explanation, “It was in my history textbook, so, it might have been there for at least a month” Buffy said “Did you get one?” she whispered. You shook your head, nobody had left anything for you. You would remember. Buffy’s note struck a sense of fear you hadn’t felt since that night. A bubbling guilt that was squeezing your insides and threatening to spill them out. You had felt numb since then, unable to cry or even think about the events.

“We need to tell someone. Maybe Giles? I can see how much this is killing you, Buff…”  You say, trying to comfort your friend the best way you knew how.

“I know, I try and I try but I can’t tell him. He’ll get all moral and Giles-y”

“Maybe we need that. What we did was stupid, but still an accident. I wish I had never agreed with Faith” You muttered as Buffy nodded along silently. She wished you hadn’t agreed with Faith too, you had been the type people came with for answers. Advice. So you agreeing with Faith was probably the deciding vote. She told you she would meet you later and appeared to be in deep thought as she walked away.

Willow and Cordy looked spooked, sitting down silently during the break between classes. Their notes had fallen out of their lockers and they were afraid they had been seen picking them up. Buffy revealed to the others hers had said the same thing just as Xander ran in, very visibly panicking and checking behind him with every step he took.

He just slammed the note in the middle of the table without comment. He had nothing he could say. No jokes could mask the horror that came with

“That settles it. We go to Giles” Buffy said firmly. 

“No-” Xander tried to assert, but he was outvoted this time.

“We have to. He’ll help us, I know he will” You confirmed, “Walk home with me tonight, we’ll tell him then” This was to give you some time. None of you could face going to the library for the rest of the day.

The bell rang and it felt as if it were tolling for a funeral march. The walk to Giles’ house was slow. You had swung by Faith’s motel on your way, taking a detour as you explained you would have to tell him. She surprisingly didn’t put much of an argument against.

The door creaked open and you shouted to announce your presence. But when you get there, you felt it instantly. You dropped your bags and walked into the living room. Every step felt heavy and echoed around the room. 

There he was. On the floor. Surrounded in his own blood.

Your knees buckled and you had to steady yourself against the sofa. The blood-stained sofa. Someone’s arms held you up. There were gasps and mutters but your ears were ringing, you felt very far away. He was cold, his body mutilated.

It took you longer than the others to see the new centrepiece of the room. 

‘I know what you did last Halloween’ was written in what could only have been Giles’ blood smeared across the wall of his living room. It was your warning. Your note.

A warning that turned your stomach. Knocked you all sick. He was one of you and he was gone. You tuned back into the conversation around you after having stared at the words. The words meant for you. Every time you blinked, those words were now stamped into your vision.

“It’s the same thing that was written on the notes”

“Oh, I got one of those but I threw it in the trash” Faith shrugged, but she wavered. This was hard to look at.

“We’ll have to clean it up” Xander said flatly. Gesturing at the writing.

“What?! We can’t-”

“Xander Harris, your brain is barely functional anyway - but this is totally the worst thing that’s come out of your mouth!” She shouted, her voice getting higher as she continued, “I am not cleaning the bloody writing off our dead librarians wall!” She warned. They had broken up since everything had happened. Everyone collectively winced as she said Giles was dead. It hurt. It sliced too close to the bone. At least when it had been a stranger, there was some degree of separation. But now it was even worse. 

“They’ll know or start to look into it - we gotta do it” 

You stayed silent this time, every time someone’s eyes looked at you you kept your expression blank. Until you were handed a cloth and some bleach and you grimaced but followed the others. Cordy joined you, nodding her understanding at your blank look. She took the cloth and the liquid from your shaking hands and started to help with the clean up.

Teen scream

Sunnydale Express, October 1999.

Reports of a large number of young people are now rejecting the upcoming holiday in an attempt to preserve their lives. Many say that this is a kneejerk reaction and that many will lose out of the best years of their lives to fear – which is what the killer will want.

Despite this, there has been a curfew agreed amongst the young people of the town and the Mayor’s office, reports suggest. Time will tell if this will be kept or if it another attempt by those cautious to get a re-election rather than improving the spate of missing persons that has only doubled since the year previous.

You were all waking in a group. You couldn’t face staying at Giles’ place so you were going to stay over at Buffy’s for the night. There was still an argument going on around you that you weren’t listening to. Faith had lit up a cigarette and kept telling everyone to calm down. That nobody could know or people would be hauling you all off to jail. That you had chosen the right thing.

“I’m sick of you all, I’m going out. There’s a party down the block. Anyone coming?” She looks around. This, you had heard. You shrug, resigning yourself to it. You made plans based on alibis now. With this cynical thought, you manage to convince everyone else to come too. You never know, it might relax them.

...Or not. 

You and the others all sat around in silence as the bass, and Faith, jumped around you. You barely spoke, you just stared into your cups. There had been some hugging when you first left the house but since then you all felt so alone. So disconnected despite being in this together. What you had chosen to do didn’t feel right and without your constant, your compass that had been Giles you didn’t know what to do.

 “Hey, man, it’s not Halloween yet!” Someone shouted. It caught all of your attention. A collective feeling of dread. That had been before all of the screaming had started.

The figure loomed over you. Everything about him screamed menacing. He frightened you more than any demon. He was stood in a Grim reaper costume, complete with blood stained scythe. He turned, spotting you finally. He had been slicing kids down as he walked. He wasn’t aiming, just wildly enjoying the chaos he caused.

He stopped in the centre of the room, facing the group of you that had just risen to your feet. He pointed. He stood still and pointed at you all. The Scooby gang.

In that moment, you knew. You knew he was the one that was taunting you. And so did every one else.

“Well, one of us has a brief scythe of life” Buffy stated, “…and it isn’t me” She ran at him, her fists raised as Faith came up behind her. In the chaos it was hard to see what was happening, all you could feel was this descending feeling of foreboding. You knew it had happened before you saw it.

To be continued…

[pollylynn]

Title: How the Mighty WC: 900

“Are you a fan?” — Danny Valentine, Dead from New York (7 x 22)

He doesn’t quite subscribe to the Never Meet Your Heroes philosophy. He’s been hero-adjacent enough times in the course of his career that he’s had pleasant interactions. Hell, he’s come to call some of his former heroes friends—or at least poker buddies. And it’s not just his ego talking when he thinks he’s been the hero worth meeting, just as he’s been the hero caught in a bad moment, in an unfortunate mood, who could stand to have his public cut him the occasional break. So, no, he’s not among the hero avoidant. 

But it’s been a rough little while on that front. He’s still smarting over Lance Delorca and the whole goat herder incident. And there are days when he feels like he can’t shower vigorously enough to rid himself of the Brock Harmon funk. More immediately, Mickey Franks has been a disappointment. 

The man is funny, to be sure, but he’s also hot mess. He is, in fact, a type of hot mess Castle recognizes, given his childhood, his teen years, his lifetime of living with his mother’s professional trials and tribulations. Mickey Franks is the guy whose issues everyone excuses in the name of his genius—the guy who is absolute hell for everyone who has to share a scene with him, who is up till dawn just trying to survive another rehearsal when Mickey’s gone rogue. He’s the guy who blames circumstances, conspiracies, cast mates for the way his career has stalled and doesn’t realize that it’s him—that he’s such a performative hot mess that he’ll never be anything more than small-screen funny for five to six minutes at a time. So, yeah, there’s a hero he probably could have given a miss. 

But Danny Valentine is the real blow in recent memory, and the shock to his system is all the worse for the fact that he was riding he Danny Valentine wave right up to the point that the man revealed himself to be an utter creep. It’s all the worse because a part of him wants, wants, wants that Righter vest from the Model Cop sketch, and even kind of wants that terrible wig or hairpiece or whatever it was the man hand on his head for the live performance. He wants to be flattered. He wants to dine out on and regale his heroes-cum-poker-buddies with the story of Danny Valentine playing him, but he would also like to find a convenient necktie and elevator shaft for all his lecher-dispatching needs. 

His ambivalence has led him to some dark and stupid places. He really needs to be writing, but instead, he spends his time on his laptop hate-watching everything the man has ever been in. He has found every embarrassing commercial for every humiliating product. He has hunted down the unaired episodes of Starfleet—a show so bad that its narrative sins make him long for the poetry and coherence of Nebula-9. Family Practice leaves him cackling in smug satisfaction at the man’s inability to pronounce even the simplest of medical terms. 

But it’s in the dead of night that his obsession really gets off to a gallop.  He pops in his earbuds and scowls at episode after episode of Hot Suspect. He plays a game with himself where he scrawls down the name of the entirely obvious perpetrator before the end of the first act, and if he’s right—and he is right ninety-nine percent of the time—he gets to spend ten minutes Googling for dirt on the man, and there is a seemingly endless supply of dirt. 

He has fallen into it. He is up to his neck in dirt on ex-hero Danny Valentine when she finally catches him in the act she’s certainly suspected him to be guilty of for weeks. He is so engrossed in being grossed out by the man’s transgressions and excesses that she’s able to work her way entirely behind him and slam her palms down on the desk on either side of the laptop. 

“Why?” She demands. She sinks her teeth into his shoulder for emphasis. “Why are you obsessing over this guy?” 

“I’m not.” His voice shoots up a perfect fifth above normal. He slams the laptop closed with a force he very well may regret. “What guy?” He blinks in a vain attempt to land the denial he really should have opened with. “Obsessing!” He tries for a scoff, but that’s on the fritz, too. He scowls down at the desk, completely out of words. 

“Castle.” She swings the desk chair around and trust falls into his arms. He catches her, of course, and she winds her arms around his neck. “He’s a celebrity creep. Forget him.” 

“He is.” It comes out as a sigh that’s far more disappointed than angry or disgusted. “But I—“ He shakes his head and burrows into her shoulder. “He was—“ He doesn’t finish the thought. He can’t finish it, so she does. 

“He was a hero.” That comes out as a sigh of her own. It’s several different kinds of relief to know he’s not alone here. “So we we find a better one.” 

“Way ahead of you, Detective.” He smiles as he wraps his arms tightly around her.  It’s true. He is. He’s had a better one drop right into his lap. “Way ahead.” 

A/N: So the real thing is that Evelyn, who is in her sixties if she’s a day, runs 7 mph, like, right out of the gate. But also Danny Valentine is a creep. I’ve had it with creeps. That’s why this is not a thing. 

images via homeofthenutty

[paellaplease]

Firebird | Chap.7

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

I’m back!

Chapter 7: Of Monsters and Metals Part 2.

...but by the restless heart that refuses to falter.

*

   Contrary to popular belief, whilst she was well accustomed to it, years of sweaty work hadn’t endeared her to the less glamorous aspects of working in a forge. It was hot, and oftentimes stuffy, making water breaks important as the hours passed on and her arms began to tire. Working through the summer was unbearable, with no amount of mountain air able to cool the uncomfortable redness on her face and arms.

Whilst Teacher could walk around the forge like it was her second home, it took months of discipline for Maiya to tolerate the place. How ironic that it seemed to follow her everywhere like a rope tightly wrapped around her wrist.

Shifting in her seat, she was thankful that the constant exchange of air above Jackdaws had rid the forge of the usual sulfurous stench of burning coal. This quiet, unassuming workshop kept close between Wayra’s rock and stone, like a beating heart beneath living flesh.

....But of course it would take a miracle to completely filter out the unmistakable burning smell of hot steel and the lingering taste of metal on her tongue.

A small drop of sweat rolled down the back of her neck. If I close my eyes, she mused, it would be like I never left home. Her head lolled forward, the previous hour’s excitement catching up to her. It wasn’t everyday a Rito takes you flying.

She was sinking in her seat, a single voice one of the only things standing in the way between her and an impromptu nap.

“…almost impenetrable rock like bodies completely covered in ice! I have heard with enough prolonged contact they could also freeze exposed flesh in seconds. It’s incredible...”

Oh. Right.

It took all her might to peel her eyelids back open. Of all the challenges she was bracing herself to encounter from Rito Village, she didn’t expect ‘being lectured again in another forge’ to be one of them.

Yep, definitely just like home.

In the reddish glow of the forge, Uleh gesticulated with a graceful turn of a poised hand. The Zora appeared fresher than a daisy, a completed sword blade resting on the anvil next to them, gleaming almost as bright as their teeth. Where they got all their energy from after what would have been hours of gruelling work was one of the many greater mysteries of Hyrule.

They spoke words that, whilst probably important, unfortunately fell on deaf ears as the Enchanter dozed off. The heaviness of her eyes continued to fight her as they settled on a rough sketch of the monster. Drawn in haste, it appeared to be one big blob with two smaller blobs attached at its sides to act like its appendages. It was a literal rock. A giant, dangerous rock. Larger than a house, the Zora had said. She briefly wondered if Uleh was having her on.

Guess so long as we don’t get within arms reach it should be fine.

“I suppose we’re not befriending the Talus and escorting it back home?” An exasperated voice called from a corner of the room. Maiya leaned her head back, her brain supplying an upside-down image of Revali testing the balance of a Falchion on one of his wings.

“Unfortunately not, but how uncharacteristically nice of you, Master Revali." The Zora replied, evidently unbothered by the archer’s sarcasm. Propping their head up with a hand, their smile was natural. Easy. "Making friends with monsters? We should table it for a later venture.”

The blue Rito opened his beak to protest, but was cut-off again by the Zora’s ringing laugh. “Ahah, you may be onto something though. Managing to form a positive connection would make your jobs easier. I mean, since you’re getting up close and personal anyway.”

“Hmmm...yeah.” Maiya sat up and stretched.

A beat passed as her brain finally decided to process the last sentence. “Wait.”

“Not to worry. It shouldn’t be too difficult.” Uleh said, totally misreading her panic. They tapped the side of their skull for emphasis. “The ingredient should be in the ore poking out of its crown. You can’t miss it. It’s usually right at the top of its head.”

Years of accumulated dust motes floated into the air as the Hylian slammed both her hands onto the aged writing desk. She gripped the edges in shock, the hardwood creaking. “Sorry.” A breath. “Can you run that by me again? Starting at the part where you said this wouldn’t be difficult.”

Uleh caught the tipping candle-holder before it fell, saving their map from going up in flames. They tilted their head down to look at her, wide-eyed confusion making her feel a little guilty. “Forgive me Miss Enchanter, had I said something wrong?”

“No.” She huffed, refusing the need to anxiety-pace around the room. “I mean yes. It’s just...” It was ridiculous. This is crazy. “You’re saying that the ingredient is found on a sentient boulder that wants to kill me.”

Adopting the countenance of a wise sage imparting worldly knowledge onto their pupil, the Zora clasped their hands and set them gently on the shaking table. "Not quite a boulder. Picture it more as a hulking, moving, ah... mini mountain. Encased in ice.”

"And it wants to kill me."

"And it wants to kill you, yes.”

This was bad. She should say something. She could feel Revali’s eyes piercing into her back. Goddesses, Maiya. Get a grip!

Was talking to the Blacksmith really worth the risk of getting hurt? Forging swords, setting traps, and being semi-decent with her throwing knives for self-defence were nowhere near enough to qualify her as a monster-hunter. A rabbit, fine. But a rock monster more than quadruple her size? I must be delusional.

She scrubbed her face wearily. “What makes you think this is a good idea?”

“Well, I’m speaking to one of the last known Enchanters of Hyrule and the Pride of the Rito. Why, it should be a doddle with two living legends on the case.”

The two responses from said Enchanter and Rito came at the same time:

“I’m not a legend.”

“Pah, naturally.”

Maiya inhaled deeply. “Why don’t you help us fight it, then? Three against one would mean surefire success.”

The furnace behind them crackled, sending sparks into the air. It illuminated the iridescent shine of the zora’s scales, their many jewels glinting in the gloomy atmosphere of the forge. It was a little funny. In contrast to their surroundings, they looked like an angel who had wandered into the wrong afterlife.

Uleh mulled over her question, idly spinning the charcoal in their hand. Whilst their smile remained, there was a tenseness that wasn't present before. After a minute, they finally regarded her, golden eyes far away as they cleared their throat to reply. “It’s because—

A disgruntled sigh interrupted them. “Honestly, enchanter. Must I throw the rulebook at you? It’s rather shameless really, asking the other party to help fulfill your part of the agreement.”

Maiya whipped her head around, leaning back so fast her chair nearly tipped over. “Lecturing me on manners now? That’s rich coming from you, Rito.”

“Why, I don’t understand your meaning. I’ve been nothing but a gentleman this entire time.”

Running a hand through her unruly hair, she would have marched directly up to him to give him a piece of her mind if it wasn’t for Uleh holding her back. She whipped around to look at them, realizing she’d forgot to drop her glare when they nervously coughed and released their hold on her shoulder.

“Ah, um.” They idly ran a claw down the silver chain decorating the two flat fins that hung on the sides of their head like hair. “I’m sorry for interrupting whatever’s going on here. You’re both right, in a way. It’s logical that the chances of success would increase with extra hands. In fact, if I could lend you my aid I would, but…”

Shrinking back, they went quiet again, words bashful and barely audible. “I’m no good in a fight.”

Maiya stared at them quizzically. Growing up with Teacher had its many challenges. For one, the Sheikah could read most people with ease, be it a guilty child who had just scribbled on a newly painted white wall or even a fully grown, extremely stoic adult trying to cheat her out of what should be reasonably priced eggs. For a young Maiya, it made stretching the truth risky, and lying to her mentor out of the question.

Whilst she was no expert in body-language, spending most of her teenage years under her mentor’s watchful eye had taught her a few things about common tells. Maybe it was in the way the Zora’s golden eyes lost their gleam? Or in their sudden shyness. Either way, whilst they may have been sincere for most of the conversation previously, Uleh in that moment wasn’t telling the full truth.

She pressed the bottom of her palm to the aching spot above her brow. This was getting too complicated. Her chest ached from the stress. She winced when the rune bit at her skin. The pulse at her wrist felt strong under her fingers, beating out a warning call.

We’re wasting time. So what if they’re lying? Anything for Enchanting, right? Wasn't that the goal? To further or find what was lost whatever the price?

There was no point in turning back now. Pressing the issue wouldn’t change the fact that it would just be her, Revali, and this Talus tomorrow. If she wanted to meet the Blacksmith and actually have him listen to her demands, then this seems like the most direct option available. Beggars can’t be choosers, she already failed in uniting the Enchanted dagger with an owner. Teacher would never forgive her for letting go of a lead like this.

“Alright. Deal still stands.” She decided.

Standing up, Uleh raised their hands to the ceiling to stretch, the relaxed grin they had before returning to their face in full force. They leaned over the table, annotating a place in the map marking ‘West Rospro Pass’ before rolling it up and sealing it with a clip. “Well then, time and tide wait for no one.”

Maiya reached her hand out, jumping when a blue wing beat her to it, swiftly taking the map from the Zora’s hands.

Beside her, Revali rolled his shoulders. Seeing her annoyed expression, he lightly tapped the map on the top of her head, his feathers puffing up at his excitement to leave this hellish hot-box. “Careful, Hylian. Your face will get stuck if you keep frowning like that forever.” He said, poking her cheek with a pointed feather.

She couldn’t help the surprised squeak that escaped her mouth, Revali’s smirk growing even wider.

The fact that the feather pressed to her face was unbelievably soft pissed her off even moreso. She quickly swatted him away, face warming. “Buzz off,” she groused.

The Rito chuckled, but complied, withdrawing his wing to haughtily cross it with the other against his chest. “Tomorrow you’ll have front row seats to watch a true Master at work.”

The silence that followed made him sigh. He looked at her pointedly. “Would it kill you to be a bit more lively?”

“Yipee...”

“Amazing. Your sincere exuberance is truly heart-warming.”

She rolled her brown eyes as Uleh gave them both a thumbs up. The Zora's laughter, like chiming bells, filling the dark forge. It was infectious, and she couldn’t help but crack a tiny smile in return.

Perhaps tomorrow wouldn’t be so terrible after all.

   Birdsong greeted Maiya as the night sky slowly brightened into a lavender hue, the first signs of dawn peaking over the horizon. She tiptoed down the outer staircase of Swallow’s Roost, careful not to wake the travellers who rested peacefully on the other side of the wall.

She rubbed her eyes, fighting back a yawn. Wisps of smoke left the tops of chimneys, chefs and bakers preparing their iron cook pots for another working day of feeding an entire village and more. A gust of wind brought the scent of charcoal and firewood, acidic and earthy...

— Fire. Burning. Melting feathers and flesh. An arrow piercing skin and muscle—

The Enchanter pressed her knuckles into her temples, attempting to relieve the pressure forcing her head to burst. Another night, another terrible sleep in Tabantha. She knew this wasn’t normal; these night terrors. Her bones ached from hours of tossing and turning, waking up in a cold sweat and forcing herself to relax, only to be met with the same dream once again. Perhaps when all of this was over, a visit to the village healer would be a good idea.

However, against her better judgement, there was something invigorating about the new day. This was crazy; mad! Teacher would never have allowed it had she been in the same room when the decision was made. And perhaps that was exactly why her stomach felt like it was doing dumb, excited flips, her mouth turning up at the edges.

This was her chance to prove herself, show her mentor how dedicated she was to the cause and her studies. It was a little unorthodox, but she was sure Teacher would understand once she comes home with new information. In fact, she could omit most of the details from the letter anyway and leave in the non-life threatening bits that won’t cause any alarm.

She nodded to herself, hands tightening around a relatively empty backpack. She patted down her front and sides to check that she had what she needed. Throwing knives, waterskin, materials for basic first-aid, and a hammer and chisel from Uleh to help her collect the ore pieces later.

“That’s everything, I think. As well as…”

Her fingers froze as they brushed the raised embellishments on the enchanted dagger’s hilt, reality running up to slap her in the face. Hands curling around it, she felt a torrent of shame wash over her. What was she doing? This wasn’t the time to act like an overexcited child. This was serious, so much was riding on her getting this right. And her mentor wouldn’t be happy if she were to fail. Wait. Her stomach dropped. What if I do fail?

What then? She wondered. Would she even be alive to report the bad news?

Sighing, she forced her hand away from the dagger, turning to look beyond the railing and into the world beyond. If anything, at least it was a beautiful morning.

A voice appeared to her right. “And where do you think you’re going?”

“Hylia’s left tit— ! Cheska!” She all but screamed, grabbing the railing in a death grip.

The innkeeper tipped her head inquisitively when a brief spark of blue flashed in her eyes.

“Uh!! Hello!” Maiya floundered. She hid her hand behind her back, feeling sweat build on her brow when Cheska’s eyes followed the action. “G-good morning. If this is about the late dinner you brought up last night, thank you so much! It was really, really good.”

She swallowed her spit, her nervousness still bubbling. “Not to say that your food isn’t always good. It’s just that I rarely eat fish. Not to say fish isn’t delicious. It’s just that where I live in Akkala we’re not really close to the sea so— ”

“Hylianlla! Slow-down.” The Rito laughed. “Jeez you are jumpy today. Take a deep breath. That’s it. In and out. Before the wind snatches it away— ah, I sound like my mother."

Cheska smiled warmly. Her rounded golden earrings reminded Maiya of two small suns, catching the light as she idly transferred the small paper package she held from one wing to another. “No worries, silly chickie. I’m always happy to feed a hungry traveller.”

The Hylian nodded, taking this as a sign that the conversation was over. She stepped to the side, moving to shuffle around the innkeeper, only for the Rito to block her path once again.

“However!” Her eyes sparkled. Maiya had a bad feeling about this. “What have you been up to yesterday that led to being dropped off by a mysterious and handsome blue-feathered stranger with the famous Great Eagle Bow?”

The Enchanter made a face. She was not mentally prepared to be having this conversation. “I can confirm that it’s not whatever you’re cooking up in that head of yours— and please stop wiggling your eyebrows!”

In an effort to distract herself from the blush that was snaking up her neck, her eyes strayed to the pink and orange sunrise above them, the clouds moving across the sky like white rolling waves. “As to what I’ve been doing. Well...not much really. Read a few books at the Archive. Got a tour of the village. Had a fight with the local blacksmith that led to striking a deal with the Zora that lives in the depths of the ancient rock supporting all of us right now.” She cringed at how crazy it sounded. “Did you know that by the way?"

“Uleh? Duh, they pass by from time to time.” She idly brushed a wing down one of her earrings. “We have the best chats. But tell me more about this tour!”

Despite the stress weighing on her mind, the Enchanter laughed, digging her hands in her pockets. “Of all the things...judging from your description I think you already know who this mysterious stranger is. Wouldn’t recommend it, but he’s all yours.”

“He’s all…” Cheska paused, voice breaking. She stood still, expression rapidly switching from confusion, realisation, to deep and feather-raising mortification.

Tilting forward, she began to giggle. Maiya stepped back in surprise, watching it transition into full blown laughter. “Uh, Cheska?”

The Rito doubled over and slapped a wing over her beak. “Revali?! Ha HA! Qoyllur-cha?” She sucked in a shaky breath, before dissolving into peals of incredulous laughter once again. “Heck no, amiha. I’m sure Mr. Grumpy is well and truly enamored with himself anyway.” The innkeeper wiped a tear from her eye. “Ah, Blessed Nayru. You’re a hoot!”

“Right,” Maiya said slowly, cheeks reddening at her social blunder. “Are you finished yet?”

“Yes,” the Rito snorted. “Okay I’m done. For real. I’m sorry!”

Forcing herself to keep a straight-face, Cheska shook her head, composing herself. “Goddesses. You just caught me by surprise is all. I’m recovering after an old friend showed up to the village yesterday. Big fiesta, great fun even though I couldn’t stay too long.

Jini brought out the good pisco this time.”

She smiled at Maiya’s blank expression, unperturbed by the lack of an equally excited response. Stepping back, she offered the Hylian the package she’d been holding on to. “Anyway, on a completely unrelated note, that mysterious blue Rito stopped by to leave this for you before dawn this morning.”

The Enchanter looked at the brown-paper package. She wondered if it was a good time to open it, but could feel Cheska’s poorly hidden curiosity bearing down on her. Might as well. Without much hesitation, she pulled on the thin rope holding it together.

A piece of cloth fell into her waiting hand.

It was a bandana. Dyed an azure blue, it reminded her of clear summer skies and the blue nightshades that glowed in her mentor’s study. Running her thumb over the soft fabric, she found that whilst it was simple and unpatterned, it was soft and very well-made. Unfolding it, a delicate piece of paper fell out, fluttering to the floor before she caught it.

She smiled, wondering if this was the prideful Rito’s version of an apology. Unbeknownst to her, her heart warmed at the thought.

Maiya quickly read the note:

So your haphazard hair doesn’t endanger us today - Revali.

The Hylian scowled, crumpling the message and stuffing it in her pocket. “Why am I so surprised?” She muttered. Despite her ire, she delicately smoothed out the blue bandana in her hand, pulling it around her hair and knotting it with irate conviction.

Saying a quick “Thank you and Good Morning” to the innkeeper, she began to angrily brisk walk up the village stairs.

Cheska waved her goodbye. “And where are you off to now, hylianlla?”

“I’m going to fight a Frost Talus.” She called over her shoulder casually.

“You’re what?!”

“Bye, Cheska!”

Revali was already waiting for her at the top of the stairs. He tapped his talons on the ground, leaning impatiently against the archway. The armour he had on the day they first met was fitted securely around his form, slightly hidden away by a flowing white scarf wrapped snug around his neck.

His back was to the sun, making it necessary for her to shield her eyes as she approached. Whilst there was no royalty amongst the Rito, he looked every bit like an irritable prince as light streamed from the heavens behind him.

His honeyed, infuriating voice called out to her as soon as he saw her hand leave the banister.

“You’re late.”

Maiya wordlessly tossed an object at him, the Rito Warrior snatching it from the air with ease. He looked down at the warm pastry that nearly hit him in the face, its icing topping and cinnamon scent unmistakeable. “A sweetroll?”

“Breakfast.” The Enchanter said, falling into step beside him as they walked down the ramp and onto the expansive launch point. The breeze was strong from this open landing, the battered wind markers around them whipping chaotically in the open air. These were the kind of conditions favourable to sailors, carrying amazing wooden creations to places unknown.

And I guess Rito as well, she thought, narrowly avoiding a tall, orange-feathered figure that landed a few feet away. Maiya righted herself, nearly stumbling backwards in surprise.

"Sorry, chika!" They called out, stepping around her quickly and making a beeline for the stairs.

The Hylian looked on in bewilderment, tugging a little self-consciously on her bandana as she turned back to face the archer. “What the...ah, anyway. I was on my way here when I realised I hadn’t eaten yet. Decided to stop by the bakery.”

Revali took a bite from the roll, making a small hum in approval before reaching into the utility pouch attached to his belt. Pulling out a glass vial, he passed it to the Enchanter. “My thanks then, as well as your payment.”

“What’s this?” She asked, narrowing her eyes at the vermillion liquid within. She uncorked the stopper and took a whiff of the unknown substance. It was pungent and sharp, making her pull away.

“Spicy Elixir. So you, pardon my bluntness, avoid freezing your pointed ears off whilst we’re traversing through the mountains.”

Maiya smelled it again, wrinkling her nose.

Revali tut-tted, though his eyes gleamed with barely hidden amusement. That bastard. “I don’t want to hear any complaints. The arctic chill is merciless. You need to drink it if you plan to keep all your limbs intact.”

She looked at the Spicy Elixir again, watching the dubious liquid slosh to the side—Oh Hylia, is that a butterfly wing?— before throwing it back as one would a shot. The warmth that came was instantaneous, as if an invisible force had suddenly encased her. It wrapped around her in the same way a blanket that had been left to heat close to the fireplace would. She was filled with a renewed sense of energy and realised then how cold her joints really were even in her heaviest of clothes.

Revali chuckled.

She opened her eyes, the curve of her mouth falling into a frown. “Care to share?”

“Not that I was speaking any falsehoods regarding the warming effects of the elixir but,” he smiled crookedly, shaking his head. “You trust too easily, Hylian.” Securing his bow to his front, he faced north and crouched.

Her brow twitched. “Me? Trust you?” Maiya shot back defensively as she hoisted herself up, minding this time not to grab on too tightly onto any feathers. “When Death Mountain freezes over.”

   Deep breaths and reign in the attitude was what she told herself as they left the landing. The drop still terrified her, her chest sinking to her knees everytime Revali so much as bobbed with the wind. She was thankful at least that the weather was favourable enough that he chose to forego the dive. Instead, he caught the gale with his outstretched wings, flapping and gaining height as they progressed forward.

Some adventurers on horseback looked up as they passed, many of them gaping in awe at the blue feathered warrior who sailed above them. Revali made no comment, head facing forward and beak an impassive line. Though the subtle fluff to his feathers gave him away, betraying the fact that he was basking in the attention.

Behind her, Rito Village became smaller with every passing minute, slowly disappearing behind the clouds until even the largest windmill was but a wink in the distance. Glittering waters turned into grassy forests as flat ground made way to grey rocks and white tipped bushes.

Revali’s wings caught a strong gust of wind, gaining speed as he advanced them forward through to the Hebra Mountains. Clouds parted, the white shroud slowly lifting to reveal a whole different world.

She felt like they were flying amongst giants. White capped peaks dominated the landscape from all directions, filling her peripheries and extending out into the distance. Reduced visibility combined with the blinding ivory void made it seem like it could go on forever. She’d never seen mountains like this before.

The wind also sounded different here. She would have thought that as a Rito, perpetually at mercy to the gale, he would find it troubling. Between these icy mountains it was wild and unruly, every gust pushing into them from different directions. However, as they ventured deeper into Hebra, it became apparent that Revali felt no fear.

If the breeze slammed into them at full force, he always knew just how to angle himself. Tilting, flapping, flying—anything to propel himself higher and further than ever before.

When it rebelled, he would soothe it. When it dropped away, he would easily reclaim it.

And when it calmed, a steady push against his wings, he would truly soar.

It was a literal breath of fresh air. Maiya could have sworn she was dreaming, still asleep in her room at Cheska’s inn. Up in the air, Revali was far from the gloating asshole who had nearly killed her with an arrow and never apologised. At this moment, he was quiet and precise, riding the gale like he was born amongst the clouds.

They flew behind one of the many snowy peaks, an empty mountain pass coming into view. Keeping close to the exposed mountain face at their left, Revali began to slow, aiming for a far-away spot jutting out perpendicular to the cliffside.

Landing on a slab of extended rock, he gestured for her to sit down, surprising her when he did the same.

The Hylian tried not to look down. They were suspended about 50 feet above the ground. Wind sifted through her hair, dancing around them and lightly ruffling the feathers along his side. She took this time to catch her breath, the mountain air surprising her with its sweetness. Vaguely she could detect the scent of the pine sticking up like pillars in the pure-white snow underneath them.

Temporarily shutting her eyes, she focused on her other senses. Cold rock underneath her fingers. Whistles from the wind. The smell of the pine trees mingling with something else. Wax and oak, with a hint of honey. She racked her brain for a reason why such an odd combination was now familiar to her.

Something cold touched her nose.

Maiya opened her eyes. She watched as snowflakes fell from the sky, imprinting temporary patterns on her clothes and melting on her exposed skin.

Then, like most times, panic decided to reel in its ugly head from out of nowhere.

Now seated and breath returning to her lungs, deep trepidation filled her. One scenario came after another, joining together and mixing into a single, big clusterfuck of a ‘what-if?’ What if she couldn’t fight? What if her knives never found purchase?

What if she froze? She could see the moment playing out clear as day. The fear would paralyze her. Glued to the ground with an angry Talus rushing towards her. Stuck in place until she was crushed underfoot like a bug.

“Stop that.”

Maiya turned to see that Revali had taken out his bow, running a feather down the gears. It was an intricate weapon, painted a steadfast dark-blue and embellished with geometric patterns along its sides.

“Stop what?”

“Thinking so loudly.” He explained, grunting with effort when he tightened a screw.

Her eye twitched in annoyance at his tone. Must he always pick a fight with me? She frowned indignantly. “I’m not allowed to plan ahead?”

“You call that planning?" He scoffed. "Don’t fool yourself, enchanter. I’m not blind. You’re running your mind ragged again, overly ruminating on imaginary events that have yet come to pass.”

He began to adjust the bow’s string, running a feather down its side. “If you continue looking behind only to lose your head in the endless possibilities of potential threats, then you are defenseless to the already existing enemy running towards you. Expecting to survive like that is foolish. You will be better off fighting with your eyes closed.”

He set the bow down on his lap, training his full attention onto her. Her breath hitched. She found herself at the mercy of eyes a deep, emerald green. Piercing and sharper than any of the knives she was carrying, not a single detail escaping his notice.

“You will not be able to face your opponent effectively if you keep battling yourself. Truly look at what’s in front of you. Do that properly, and you will not miss.”

The Enchanter was silent, still feeling very much pinned under the intensity of his gaze. He’d only known her for a day or two and had already managed to find the holes in her armour, striking at them with such precise accuracy that she didn’t know whether she should thank him for the honest assessment, or push him off the ledge for his blatant rudeness and reading of her character. Her hand twitched as the rune sent a jolt up her arm, dancing along to the erratic beat of her heart.

But why…, she found herself wondering, unable to stop herself from staring back. Unknowingly, she leaned forward ever so slightly, flecks of snow falling around them. Why is he looking at me like that?

The mountainside shuddered, making them both jolt up in surprise. Hurriedly, she rushed to the edge of the short rock platform, the tension on her shoulders tightening in a vice grip at what she saw below.

It was colossal. Terrifying to the point where it almost crossed over the line to awe-inspiring by the sheer characteristic of its size. Rising from the earth, it shook and shuddered as if possessed, hobbling forward and slamming its gargantuan stone fists into the snow covered forest floor with so much force that it shook the mountain and their platform once again. From her vantage point, she could see the piece of ore at the top of its head, sparkling in the morning light like a jewel on a crown.

When the Talus’ hands came away from the ground, Maiya saw that they were coated in red. Not blood, she thought, too pink and thick. Though the longer she looked, she noticed the same pinkish red substance coating its body in different places. On its bare face, along its leg, all across its rock appendages. It flowed and bubbled, creeping along the Talus’ body like a parasitic weed, dripping like acidic rain and melting the pure white snow below.

Uleh did not mention that.

She coughed, her throat suddenly dry and scratchy. “I think that’s our target.”

Revali exhaled a small cloud of air, unbothered. “Hm? That’s new. I thought we would have to lure it up from the ground. Seems it has done most of the work for us.” He pointed to the quiver of arrows on his back, some arrowheads curled and shaped to resemble a single flame. “It will go down easy with a few of these in its body. After all, a monster that relies solely on a barrier of ice stands no chance against the blaze of fire.”

He stood up, brushing the snow from his shoulder, a futile gesture as more began to rain down anyway. “No rush, it won’t be able to see us from up here.” He tapped the rock floor with his talons. “It uses the vibrations in the ground to make an ‘educated’ guess as to where its victim would be. From our vantage point, it’s like we don’t even exist.”

She tilted her head to the side, watching the Talus amble and sway from left to right, still feeling apprehensive at how relaxed Revali was in this situation. Warriors really are something else.

He brought the bow to his front, stretching his wings to the sky like he was about to go for a leisurely run and not, well, fight a rock monster that would crush you if you so much as sneezed on it. “Well then, enchanter. I do hope this seat provides you with an adequate view for the show this morning. Just sit back and get comfortable.”

Maiya stood and stalked towards him, not caring that she was invading his personal space as she stabbed a finger into his chestplate. “Get comfortable? What are you talking about?”

He took advantage of the height difference, looking down at her past the tip of his beak like he was appraising a petulant child. “You honestly believe I would let you fight that thing?”

She wanted to rip her hair out. “This venture is purely for my benefit, I am not letting you do all the dirty-work while I sit on my ass and watch like some useless piece of shi-”

The ground shuddered again. Both barely had time to react when a boulder was sent flying in their direction.

She blinked, suddenly finding herself gripping onto Revali’s front as they hurtled to the ground below. The Rito Warrior somersaulted in the air, the seconds of uncontrolled flight and pure free fall eating up the scream bubbling in her throat.

Then, his wings were outstretched, miraculously by the Goddess' grace catching the wind, slowing their descent before they hit the snow covered ground with a painful thud.

Her brain rattled, eyes fluttering and struggling to clear the fog blocking her vision. Her ears rang as she heaved in a breath, the very action making her cry out in pain. Her ribs hurt. Her hand...her hand was—!!

Shattered rocks rained above them. The Enchanter yelped, Revali’s voice loud in her ear as he gasped in alarm, wrapping his wings around her and rolling them to the side just as a large chunk of what used to be their platform stabbed into the spot where their bodies were half a second ago.

The Rito released his hold on her, standing up and equipping his bow in a single fluid motion. Through the haze of her clouded vision, she watched as he took aim, pulled the bowstring back and fired.

It surprised her how a monster without a mouth could make such a chilling sound. Cracking rock and a screech so glaringly inhuman reached her ears, making her blood run cold.

There was truly no turning back now.

In the next moment, her arm found itself in a vice grip as Revali hauled her to her feet, pulling her along as they sought cover in a nearby sparse grove of trees. Chest heaving, her brain struggled to catch up to what had just transpired. Barely, it managed to process the feeling of blue feathered wings running down her arms, tilting her head from left to right and brushing the hair away from her eyes.

“W-what are you doing?”

“Checking for injuries.” He said tersely. “Where are we?”

“Huh?”

Head snapping up, his eyes once again commanded her undivided attention. They were the same emeralds as before, except this time completely void of any kind of relaxed confidence, replaced now by a sharp focus and a clinical detachedness that made her stomach clench. “Hylian, do you know where we are right now?”

“Rospro Pass.” She said, remembering the words on Uleh’s map.

“Good. Did anything hurt when we were running towards the trees?”

Maiya blinked quickly. “No. Oh, well actually— fuck!” She screamed, hands slapping Revali’s wing away as she pulled her arms in to wrap around her aching torso. Her left hand shook and spasmed, strings of energy rattling through her veins like barbed wire cutting into her skin. This was too much. Mortifyingly, tears sprang up in the corner of her eyes. She’d been through much, much worse, but no matter how many times her rune had tortured her, pain is no different. Feeling something stuck in her throat, she spat it out to the side, a glob of fresh blood hitting the snow.

“Sorry,” Revali said quickly. “I need you to move your arms away.” With a little more prying, she agreed, too caught up in her panic for herself and the active and angry rune in her hand to feel embarrassed that he was lifting up the edge of her shirt, his wing poking the reddened, inflamed skin above her ribs as she hissed.

“One of them is fractured, but not severe enough to pierce the skin or anything important internally. At least from what I can see. Can you take some short breaths for me?”

She nodded, wincing at the sound of her wheeze.

“Then you’ll live.” Both their heads shot up to the direction of the same otherworldly screech from before, echoing not too far away from their current position. “Tch,” the Rito archer straightened up, reaching into one of his side pouches and pulling out a wide bandage. He made quick work of wrapping it around her middle, tying the knot and yanking her shirt back down. “You need to run away, enchanter. Follow the path down the mountain, there’s a guard post at the foot. Tell them to bring reinforcements.”

She glared at him, eyes red and venomous. “No! Not without you. I already told you, Rito, this is my mess and I am seeing it through.”

“We don’t have time for this,” he muttered, frantically scanning the clearing for some other kind of cover and coming up blank. “I’m still unsure as to what it is, but there is something wrong with this Talus. I’ve fought only two previous but I am confident that this one is different. It’s faster—smarter somehow.”

“And it can see us.”

“Yes, either through sheer dumb luck or something else entirely. Its movements are unpredictable. Almost like it’s being controlled from the sidelines.” He gritted out, annoyance shining clear at having to solve such a puzzle under immense pressure. He swiped the fallen snow away from his eyes, growling.

She directed her gaze to the floor, focusing on the patch of red seeping into the snow by her feet. Her blood was a stain against what was once uniform purity. Another roar echoed through the trees, this time accompanied by the crash of heavy footsteps, dragging through the snow. “I know you’re one of the best of your people, but even then there’s no way you can hold it back for that long without getting hurt.” She tried to reason.

Revali shook his head, squeezing her shoulder before turning to bolt past the grove. “I’ll distract it. Run!”

“Wait!” She reached out to pull him back, but her hand was met with only empty air. Pure dread stole the breath from her lungs as she watched him exit out the trees and into the open clearing where the Talus waited to meet him. Another jolt of pain rocketed through her hand. Combined with the stabbing ache in her chest it was almost unbearable. She inhaled shakily, moving forward and following the tracks that Revali’s talons had made on the ground, fighting for her eyes to stay open as she stumbled out into the light.

Snow lightly fell from the sky, brushing down azure feathers that fluffed at the edges as Revali levelled his bow. He fired three in quick succession, cutting a red line through the air like a shooting star. Each sunk into the Talus’ icy exterior, melting patches with a low hiss and exposing the black rock underneath.

Falling forward, the monster sunk back into the ground. Revali took advantage of the situation, sprinting away towards the cliff face to gain more distance.

Maiya took this chance to move as well, footsteps sinking into the snowy ground as she struggled forward in the direction of the Talus. The ground shuddered again as she launched herself at it, a knife in each hand. She dug the blades into its exposed interior, holding on for dear life as she scrambled to gain purchase.

“What are you doing?!” A frantic, angry voice yelled out.

“Fire more arrows!” Bracing her feet on the Talus’ surface, she took a chance and let go of one of her improvised hand holds, grabbing another knife from her bandolier and swinging it up to stab it into the last open patch of rock. She hoisted herself up, screaming out in agony but nonetheless refusing to let go. “Please!” She called out, feet slipping against the rock’s surface.

Something whistled past her ear. An arrow embedded itself into the space above her, rapidly evaporating the ice. Then came another, and another, marking a pathway up to the Talus’ zenith. Again she freed her opposite hand, fractured ribs shifting and aching as she stabbed a dagger upwards, pulling herself closer to the ore.

The strange parasitic pink substance flowed down next to her, emitting a stench of rot that made her gag. Carefully she maneuvered around it, not wanting to find out for herself what would happen if even the skin of her hand were to brush it.

Continuing to climb, she struggled against another monster, one intent on taking full control of her wavering resolve. It was a beast formed of intense fear and regret, tugging at her mind and causing her hold to grow shakier with every passing minute. Why didn’t you run away?! It roared.

The thud of another arrow spurred her forward, her adrenaline running high as she devoted her focus solely to reaching the top.

Almost there. For a moment, she could finally see the ore’s surface, shining only an arm’s length away from her. Maiya reached again for her bandolier, shaking fingers brushing an empty pocket.

“Fuck sakes,” she cursed. She was out of knives.

Clouds of air escaped her mouth as she leaned her head on the monster’s surface, an intense feeling of hopelessness freezing her movements. Everything felt heavy, the swinging scabbard at her hip weighing her down and threatening to weaken her hold on her knife.

Wait, there’s still...

Her hand drifted down to where the enchanted dagger was sheathed. In response, the rune spasmed, sending a shock through her veins in disagreement as if it knew exactly what she was going to do.

Not once did Teacher mention what would happen if she were to use an enchanted weapon of her own make. She was neither Master nor an unworthy stranger. So many things could go wrong. Would it kill her? Would it even work? What would happen if—!

Underneath her, the Talus shuddered.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Slowly, the surface began to move, lifting itself from the snow. All around her, the parasitic fluid coating its body came alive, calling out in celebration. Several arrows rained down from the sky, piercing into the Talus’ armour but failing to deter it from its course. The monster began to stand.

Maiya unbuckled the enchanted dagger from its scabbard. Grabbing the hilt, she lifted it up, and with all the strength in her body, swung up and stabbed it into the Talus’ ore.

There was a flash of light, an ear piercing screech, and suddenly she was in the air again.

It was like a bad dream. She could see the white ground hurtling towards her. Curling into herself, she braced just in time before her body collided with the snow. Something solid hit her head, rattling her brain and causing her world to turn black.

.

.

.

Wa…ke…!

Fire. Everything was on fire. She was drowning in a sea of fleeing people, ribbons of smoke were filling her lungs and the smell of burning and rot was choking her. A blood moon was in the sky.

Wa...ke….p

A figure was standing at the doorway of a crumbling house, calling out to her. Their feathers were burnt, dissipating into ashes as the skin underneath began to melt to the bone.

“I’m sorry, there are too many people!” She tried to scream, voice refusing to leave her lips as she fought helplessly against the tide. “Don’t just stand there! You need to run! I can’t— ”

A lilting voice, warm as sunlight, whispered in her ear.

“Hylianlla. Please. Wake up.”

.

.

.

In a disorienting second, her surroundings slammed back into place. Maiya sucked in a shaky breath, her cheek throbbing. Cold snow melted underneath her, seeping into her clothes and stinging like a thousand needles pressing into her skin.

The ground began to shake. A familiar voice was calling out to her. “Get up! Valloo damnit, enchanter! Stand!”

Every vein, every cell and atom in her bruised body cried out. She wanted to go back to sleep. This was too much.

Weakly, she rolled onto her stomach, the pain in her ribs causing her eyes to snap open. Coughing, she spat more blood onto the snow, her arms and knees shaking as she slowly began to stand.

She’d been thrown into the midst of an earthquake. Dazed, her head lolled upwards, watching in frozen horror as the Talus barrelled towards her, its heavy steps falling in time to the shuddering of the world underneath her feet.

Behind it, Revali furiously loosed arrow after arrow. Not one missed their mark, but not a single shot had managed to melt through its ice encasing. Belatedly, she realised that the archer had run out of fire arrows. The odds were stacked against them.

Yelling, she threw herself to the side, dodging a giant rock hurled in her direction. Desperately, she scrambled back onto her feet, avoiding one stone after another by the skin of her teeth. The monster continued to gain on her, quickly closing the distance between them.

Maiya blinked away the sweat from her eyes, the fear in her heart that had kept her alive for this long gradually losing its hold over her to the pull of fatigue. If she devoted herself to running, she wouldn’t be able to avoid the Talus’ attacks. If she slowed her run to focus on dodging, it would catch up to her in seconds.

I’m not going to make it.

Mind reeling, she didn’t notice the rock jutting up behind her. She tripped, falling face first into the snow. The monster shrieked in delight. Shaking violently, she tried to stand again, falling back down as the muscles in her legs seized from overuse.

The Talus was but a metre away at this point. Even if she tried, she wouldn’t be able to outrun it. A rare moment of peace settled over her as she slowly stood up.

If she were to die here, she wouldn’t die lying down.

As the monster approached, she managed to catch the glint of her enchanted dagger still embedded into the cracking ore. It was uncontrolled, spewing out flames in an unfettered act of rage. Her greatest creation was violent and angry, but the Talus remained unshaken. It would take days for it to make a noticeable dent.

What have I done?

Standing her ground, she watched as the Talus raised its fists to the sky, blocking out the sun as it readied itself to slam down and put an end to her life. She didn’t know what to think. Light escaped from the seams of her glove, the rune all but bursting into flames. Hylia, did it hurt. But it didn’t matter. This would all be over soon.

She kept her eyes open, making a quiet wish somewhere deep in her tired soul that despite all the odds stacked against them, Revali would escape.

A streak of red sailed through the sky.

Equal parts shocked and horrified, Maiya watched as the Talus’ movements suddenly came to a halting stop. All reality slowed. Rock arms, once raised high as a terrifying monument to her mortality, dropped to its sides as it turned around.

Facing completely away from her, the monster directed its attention to the Rito archer behind it, revealing to the Enchanter the single fire arrow protruding from its back.

Revali dropped his bow, every one of his arrows completely expended. Out of options, he unsheathed the hunter’s knife strapped to his belt, gripping it tightly between both his wings. “Hey, blockhead!” He called out, beak curved up in a mocking, open smile. “Face me.”

The repulsive pink parasite bubbled and writhed, releasing a vile, high-pitched wail. Its host shuddered to life, starting forward and dragging its hulking body along the snow in the direction of the Pride of the Rito.

Her body moved on its own.

West Rospro Pass melted into a mess of sound and colour. The pain that rippled through her chest, the frustration, the fear; all of it blended together and were cast aside as every fibre in her being rallied and converged on a single goal.

Nothing mattered beyond Getting. There. First.

Bringing her hand to her mouth, she sank her teeth into the glove, ripping it away. Energy sparked and crackled underneath her skin. Beams of blue light spilled from her scar, warming the surface of her cheek and begging for release.

“YOU STUPID BIRD!”

Revali lifted his head, green eyes stunned when he saw the Hylian sprinting closer.

The earth trembled as the Talus neared. In a last ditch effort she grabbed the Rito by his white scarf, yanking him behind her and placing herself between him and the path of the monster.

It was only steps away now, close enough for her to feel the chill of the ice on the tip of her nose. Operating on pure instinct, she raised her left arm, trying not to flinch as the shadow of the Talus’ form fell over the both of them.

Panic seized her unexpectedly. She was dumped into the ocean again and rapidly sinking, struggling to keep her head above the waves as the storm thrashed mercilessly around her.

Caught in the undertow, she fought to stay afloat.

This is my fault.

I did this.

I can’t let him die.

I can’t let him die!

I can’t—

Someone held her shoulder. Warm breath fanned the hairs on the back of her neck. Revali’s voice, lacking its usual sardonic edge, was but a gentle whisper on her skin, piercing through the water and pulling her up from the depths.

“Maiya.” He said, grounding her.

Without another thought, she plunged her glowing arm into the core of the Frost Talus. The parasite screamed and thrashed in alarm. For the first time in her life, she allowed herself to let go, letting the pull of the rune take over.

Her outstretched hand sunk past the ice with ease, beams of blue light escaping through the cracks of the rock and illuminating the Pass.

In mere seconds, her vision was full of nothing but fire. The Frost Talus, in its unfathomable enormity, was lost and overtaken in the light of the flames.

[kittymsmithwritesstuff]

Raffle Winner: Change in Routine

Congratulations to @eggrollgaming for winning my 150 follower raffle! They requested a one shot featuring Bloodhound in their off time, with a little visit from a fellow Legend. I hope you like it!

I also do commissions (x)

My AO3: (x)

Rating: T for Fuck

*****

Removing their mask had a certain religious quality to it that they’d yet to find a parallel. It was not the same exuberance that came from a hunt or a well played game, nor the same peace from the ritual lighting of incense placed at the altar of Odin each morning, an altar they’d taken with them when they left their village. It was a relief, but not physical, a freedom, but not spiritual. Mental, perhaps, but in an unassignable ethereal way that felt like being washed in cool water. They’d long given up on labeling it anything but a pleasant sensation. A sign that home was underfoot.

Home, as it had been for the last two years, was not too far to make their commute unbearable, but far enough someone had to be particularly lost and stupid to find it. A single room cabin with a large rug, a square table for two but with only one chair at it, the other stacked with books in a corner. A bed, a rug, the head of a prowler mounted above the fireplace. Their altar in the corner and shelves of books, more scattered on any available surface. 

The components of their mask-goggles, headdress, cap, and respirator-were neatly laid on the kitchen table. They stripped naked immediately, tossing their clothes in an overflowing laundry basket that Artur liked to sleep in and digging out an old hoodie that dropped to their mid thigh and some shorts. “Hm, tea, Artur?”

Artur had already settled into the laundry and gave a half- hearted croak before turning his head back to rest against his wing. They chuckled, coming over quietly and petting his chest feathers. “Tired? I do not blame you, krutt. You worked hard, yes you did.” He made a quiet noise of annoyance and they chuckled, planting a light kiss on the back of his head. “Alright, alright, rest.” He made another noise, one they knew well to mean I would have gotten it earlier if you weren’t such an old bother. 

They made themselves tea, looking out the window over the sink while the kettle warmed. They had a wood stove, but they’d found the luxury of electricity, so easily gotten with solar because of planet Solace’s eternal summer, too alluring to not implement, even if they really only used it for their fridge and tea. Well, their phone, too, one stripped of any and all capabilities except calling and texting. They’d only ever given the number to two people: someone dear and long since past, and the Syndicate, so they would know if the Games were cancelled and they could sleep past noon.

Tea in hand they settled on their bed, curled up in the corner with the mug on the sill of the window. A new book, a warm drink. Pure quiet but for the animals outside. They fell asleep within fifteen minutes, and would have slept past that if it weren’t for a knock on the door startling them awake. They had their knife in hand in a second. They’d had two visitors in the entire time they’d lived there and neither had been someone they wanted to see. Still, they opened the door, and dropped the knife in shock. 

“Whoa, whoa!” Mirage jumped back, stumbling and falling on his ass.“Watch where you fling your knives!”

They swallowed hard, staring.

“Man that could have taken out my, my foot. Jesus,” he placed his hands on either side and pushed himself up, unsteady, had he been drinking? “I-hey, uh, why are you looking at me like that?”

Shit, they weren’t wearing their mask. They didn’t want to speak, either. Exactly what was the population of Icelandic recluses on Solace again?

“Uh, shit, this is probably weird, uh, hi. Uh. I’m lost. I’m also, y’know, Mirage if that, heh, means anything?”

They continued to stare, washing their face in neutrality. 

“Uh, anyway I uh, could use some help. Kinda lost.”

They were about to point him away when they looked down and realized his ankle did not quite look right. They pointed to it. He chuckled nervously. “Yeah, uh, I kind of tripped. I think. I was drinking. I got blindfolded for a dare, woke up on a beaaaaach-y’know how it is.”

They, unfortunately, did. And they also, unfortunately, couldn’t morally justify banishing him when he was injured. And so, tight lipped, waved him in. He seemed surprised but thanked them, carefully climbing the steps. “Oh man, this is awesome, a nice uh, nice place. Never thought I’d find anybody out here.”

They glanced at him and gestured to the kitchen chair. He sat and lifted his pant leg when they motioned for him to. As they suspected, his ankle was twisted. Thankfully they’d stolen more than one syringe and medkit from the Games, both of which could heal it in moments. As soon as he was fixed they could send him to find his own way.

“Oh hey, those look like the ones we use in the Games.” He said offhandedly, and they hoped the involuntary flinch didn’t show. 

They glanced at him and saw a funny look on his face, but didn’t comment while kneeling by his leg and stabbing above the joint of the ankle. They stood up and tossed the syringe, a little miffed they didn’t hear a thank you until they turned and saw that Mirage was staring at the full components of their mask laid on the kitchen table. “Fuck.”

“So they do speak,” he said quietly, head ducked away but eyes on them. “Bloodhound?”

They pursed their lips tightly. Artur made a confused chirp from the laundry basket and Mirage’s head zipped around, then back at Hound. They inhaled deeply. There was no denying it-as stupid as he seemed, Mirage wasn’t an idiot. Idiots didn’t meet the qualifiers. But he was a chatterbox, and this made them nervous, clenching their teeth hard as the moment built and built, their mind blank in panic. They wanted this to have never happened, but that wasn’t an option. 

“Sorry,” he said finally, biting his lip. “Thanks for your help.”

They swallowed, fingernails dug deep into their palms. Artur chirped again and glided over, settling on the table. “Hey buddy, you’re not so scary when you’re not hunting me down,” he said gently, offering his hand like one would to a dog. Surprising them, Artur settled back, chest displayed for pets, which Mirage granted. He looked at them again and began to stand. “I-I’ll go. Sorry, uh, thanks, though. I-I’m not gonna say anything I uh, uh, I hope you uh...”

They felt a sudden pull at their gut and gestured for him to sit. “You look like a dog’s chew toy.”

“Thanks. Wait, that’s not a compliment.”

“Would you like tea?” Been years since you’ve said that. 

He blinked, seeming to gather himself and slowly lower into the chair. “Uh, sure.”

“It’s ginger.”

“I didn’t know tea came in different colors.” They looked back at him. “Oh shit you mean the root. Well, technically it’s a stem, but...I’m gonna shut up now.”

They wanted to swallow it, but the chuckled worked up their throat to the air anyway. “You prefer coffee?”

“I don’t really drink either, well except with like a greasy diner breakfast, if you don’t have black coffee with that you’re a criminal. Least, that’s what my mom’s always said.”

They mixed in a dollop of honey with the tea, passing it to Mirage. Or should they think of him as Elliott? It was a dangerous sort of intimacy, but it couldn’t be any worse than not kicking him out. Artur squawked. They set a tupperware from the fridge with fresh vegetables and meat in front of him. Elliott smirked. “You’re a spoiled bird, aren’t you?”

“Oh, he knows. And he’s a brat.” They leaned against the kitchen counter, a few feet from him. Their shoulders were tense though they appeared loose. “Little rassgat.”

“Huh? No wait, lemme guess, uh, hm...shithead.”

They snorted. “Asshole. Drullusokkur is shithead.”

“Drullusooker-drulla, drullasoker, drull...y’know, I’m good. Hey, can I ask you a question?”

“If I can ask you one.”

“Sure.” He sipped his tea. “Shit, that’s good. Anyway, this place, I’ve been in this area before and never saw it.”

They paused, rubbing the rim of their mug with their thumb. “Well, I have not been here long. About two years.”

“What the hell would make you move here?” 

It was a reasonable question, all things considered. “What other planet can I build with no permits in the middle of the jungle and no one will stop me?”

“Ha! Guess that’s fair.”

They smirked. “Well, my turn. Did you really make that bad of a bet?”

“Probably. Dunno, I blacked out during the card game.”

“That isnot a good winning method.”

“Nope.” He exhaled in a half laugh, holding the mug to his chest. Artur finished up his food and decided humans were no longer of interest to him and returned to the laundry basket. Bloodhound dropped the tupperware in the sink, glancing out the window that faced the ocean. One could see just slivers of the sand, soft and hot, against the sunset,  a long walk made longer by the uneven ground. They could feel his eyes on them and turned their head his way. He quickly looked into his mug. 

They knew he was looking at the scars. “Inhaled military grade coolant when I was fourteen,” they said quietly. His head shot up, surprised. “They used to be much worse.”

“Oh,” he whispered. The air wasn’t nearly as tense as they thought it would be. “I’m sorry.”

“Ah, twenty-two years and you get used to it.” They finished off their tea, and took Elliott’s mug as well. “Don’t cower like a guilty dog. Please.”

“Sorry,” he sat up again, and they gave themself some respite in washing the dishes, thinking on how they usually spent their evening: tea, a nap, dinner, then weapon maintenance with the radio on, or perhaps a book. A walk out to the beach with Artur to watch him play in the sand. Elliott had been a huge disruption to their routine...what was one more? “It’s a long walk and nearly dark. Did you drive to the bar?”

He cleared his throat, surprise clear in his voice, “uh, yeah, yeah over in Nova.”

Ten minutes away. “If you’re feeling better, I can drive you there.”

“I uh, I don’t really want to, uh, impose.”

Polite to a fault. They insisted it wasn’t an imposition, and after putting the dishes in the drying rack grabbed their keys and a jacket, telling Artur they’d be back soon. Mirage followed them curiously. “No mask?”

“What would you recognize more, my mask, or my face? Besides, it’ll be dark.” 

“Oh! Smart!”

They chuckled slightly, leading him to their jeep that was tucked by a path they’d made through the trees. They strapped in and set off, and it wasn’t until they reached the parking lot of the bar Elliott had parked at that they realized they might have done something wrong. “Do you have a license?” He asked breathlessly.

“No.”

“Oh! Okay,” he said, voice high pitched as he clambered out of the jeep. “Well, normally that drive takes twenty minutes, and you made it in ten.”

“Oh.” They paused. “So I wasn’t supposed to be going that fast.”

“No.”

“Apologies.” They couldn’t help the grin, the joke, “Perhaps our next meeting will be a driving lesson.”

“If you ever want me in that jeep again it will be.” He chuckled, hand on his heart as he backed away, making a show of getting as far as possible. They waved their hand at him dismissively with a roll of their eyes, turned the jeep around and paused, leaning out the window, watching him pull his keys out and toss them in his hand. 

They swallowed, running their tongue over their lip. “Hey, ah, Elliott.”

He turned on his heel, eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”

They opened their mouth, pausing, then closed it again after a moment. “I’ll...I...enjoyed our time together.”

A beat. He pressed his keys, flat palmed, to his stomach. “I...I did too. It was cool to hang out.” He smiled lopsidedly. “See the person behind the mask.”

Something in them warmed and they returned the smile without thinking. “If you are in the area, I promise I won’t pull a knife on you at the door.”

“And I promise I won’t break my ankle beforehand. Uh, again.”

They snorted. He ran over suddenly, digging into his pocket and passing them a sand dusted business card. They quirked an eyebrow. He was gripping the keys tightly. “If you got a phone, y’know.”

“Mm.” They glanced again, surprised by the plainness, thinking that there should be at least one picture of his own face on the thing, but it was entirely minimalist. 

“See you,” he said, quickly retreating to his car. 

“See you,” they called after, stalling for no particular reason until they saw his back lights turn on. 

They headed out, back in the warm wood of their home. They tossed their keys on the kitchen table and got a glass of water before falling back onto their bed. Artur glided over and landed on the dip of their belly as they reached for the knob on the radio, rolling out long forgotten rock that rolled over them, down the bed. Onto the empty hearth of the fireplace, settling over the floor like a mist. 

It drew their eyes towards the kitchen while they gently pet Artur’s feathers, guided them to the table where they paused only a second on the mask pieces and then focused on the chair. One that had not seen company in years, but had taken it so well. Better than they’d thought. They brushed a finger over Artur’s beak and dug into their pocket, pulling out the business card and staring at the number. They gently picked up Artur and placed him at the end of the bed, then took the stack of books from the spare chair and put them aside, pulling the chair to its place across from the other. 

They sat on the chair and looked at the one across from them.

They breathed deeply, placed the card on the table, pulled out their phone and opened up their contacts

[sethrine-writes]

Devil-sitter May Cry, Ch. 5

Pairing: Dante x F!Reader, Vergil x F!Reader (Undecided)

Words:  1415

Warning:  Foreshadowing

Story Summary: Low on cash and desperate for a job, you reply to a flyer for a babysitting position. Little did you know that the opportunity to watch over two special boys would bring your life so much mayhem and adventure…and, perhaps, a chance at a family of your own.

A/N: More plot motivation and exposition in this chapter. The boys are mentioned, but don’t really show up. I hope you guys enjoy it, all the same!

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Chapter 5 - Naomi

The café wasn't terribly busy, but there were enough patrons within to create a comfortable, humming atmosphere of friendly chatter and quiet, clinking dishware. It was the perfect place to finally meet up with your dear friend, Naomi, whom you hadn't had the chance of seeing in far too long.

Usually, you both planned little friend dates at least a couple times a month, little lunches that bled into the late afternoon as you talked each other's ears off about the happenings since the last get-together. With you being tight on funds and looking for a job, however, and with Naomi being busy with her own line of work, it had been hard to make the time for that much-needed visit.

Hopefully, you would be able to have such lunches as often as before real soon. It was a promising sign, being able to treat the both of you to a late brunch after your first official payment from your new babysitting job - having already taken care of your rent, of course.

"The cat was a demon?!"

And from Naomi's guffawed tone, it was clear she was enjoying her time with you just as much as you were enjoying her company.

You were quick to shush her loud outburst, giggling quietly with flustered amusement as she made to press her hand against her grinning mouth. If any other patrons in the café had overheard or were disturbed by the muffled ruckus the two of you were creating, no one said anything.

After a moment, Naomi removed her hand, red painted lips pressed into a thin line as she attempted to hold back her own amusement. She failed, unfortunately, and her hushed whispers were filled with giddy excitement.

She always did get a kick out of your storytelling, even if she did think you were just spicing it up with your "make-believe."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but I just….I can hardly imagine-"

"See, this is why I don't tell you all my stories," you mused, earning a playfully affronted gasp from the woman sitting across from you.

"I like to think you tell me everything," she countered, eyeing you up with those bright green eyes of hers. "Well, almost everything, at least. One can't have all their cards laid out at all times."

"You definitely get the brunt of all my mediocrity," you lamented with a sigh, earning a playful swat to your arm.

"Oh, hush, now! There's hardly anything mediocre about you," she crooned. "Why, you may be the most interesting person I've had the pleasure to befriend."

"Oh, wow, you're right. When you put it that way, your life must be so much more boring than mine."

That got another set of giggles and another playful swat towards you, one you dodged with a grin. You took that moment to take a sip of your tea, still hot enough for you to be cautious.

"So, tell me more," she urged, adjusting the dark fringe of her bangs to one side with the swipe of her elegant fingers, "you mentioned just finishing your first week, correct?"

Naomi was quite eager to hear more about your new job, it seemed, feeding off your own excitement and contentment with the arrangement you had found yourself in.

In your three years of knowing her, she had always been that way, so attentive to the things you wanted to share with her. Even from the first day you met her in that lovely florist shop two towns over, the one she currently owned but was only a supervisor of three years ago, Naomi had been so attuned to your words.

Through the pleasantries and the initial conversation about flowers and appropriate bouquets for a wedding party you were attending, you found yourself talking avidly with her about so many things. Your little visit had turned into nearly two hours of talk and laughter, and a friendship quickly blossomed - pun highly intended. She had quickly become your dearest friend, one whose opinions and insight you cherished deeply.

Through good times, through bad times, Naomi never failed to be there to help you through them, and for that, you were grateful. You could never thank her enough for everything she had done and helped you through, though she insisted time and again that just having you as a friend was more than enough.

"Yeah, first week's in the clear," you answered, fingers absentmindedly playing with the pendant about your neck as you recounted your first week babysitting the children of the Sparda twins.

Nero and V were wonderful little boys, just as you had thought they would be. They played well, bickered a healthy amount, and had such wild, vivid imaginations that you were constantly in awe of the things they could think up. They were also extremely curious about so many things, and after having warmed up to your presence the first day, they seemed to have endless questions about every little thing that popped into their heads.

"Just yesterday, Nero was asking me if I would eat a banana if it looked and acted like a monkey," you mused with a laugh, "and V was so adamant that I'd never do such a thing, then looked absolutely scandalized when I said that it would technically still be a banana."

"Such imagery! The poor dear must have had a fit," Naomi chimed with a grin, popping a bite of pastry into her mouth.

"Oh, I got an earful! Have you ever been lectured by a six-year-old? It's quite the experience."

You continued to recount your week with the boys, ruminating on all the little quirks and interests you had learned about them.

Nero absolutely loved anything to do with space. He loved the sky, the moon, the stars and how they formed shapes and constellations. He knew some interesting facts about all nine planets and the sun they orbited, and he had an appreciation for astronauts.

V enjoyed reading during quiet time, and he had a love for flowers, though he admitted that most flowers made his chest hurt, so he could only admire them from afar or within his books. He also had an affinity for animals, especially birds or most anything with wings.

Together, they enjoyed building their own imaginary worlds, and their playtime was quite the spectacle to behold. Beyond that, though, there was a deep bond between the boys, one that was seamless in its complexity.

It was, quite frankly, hard to explain. You had never seen such unity in children before, how both Nero and V sometimes moved as one unit with little hesitance or need for voicing their next plan of action. They were so attuned to each other, Nero moreso aware of V and his limitations, and it was such a marvel to watch how they took care of each other.

You looked up at Naomi, suddenly aware that your tangent had softened and your words had gone quiet. She looked a bit perplexed, her emerald gaze watching closely as your fingers clutched at the pendant around your neck.

"Sorry," you apologized, hand dropping back to the table. There was a moment of guilty despair that felt like a fire poker in your chest

"No, it's alright," she spoke carefully, gaze flitting up to meet yours. "I'm thrilled you've found such joy in taking care of these children, truly, but-"

"I'm fine," you cut in, immediately regretting such a quick response.

Naomi sighed.

"I'm...sorry. It wasn't my intention to upset you."

It was your turn to sigh.

"No, you're fine. I get it - you worry. But it's been over four years since...well. And apart from the recent stress of finding a job, I've been doing really good!"

You reached out and grabbed hold of Naomi's hand, giving it a quick squeeze.

"I'm okay, Naomi. I'm still kicking and screaming, where it still counts, and I'm okay."

The steadfast admission brought a smile to Naomi's face, her fingers squeezing back over your own before you pulled back.

"It's funny how I ever doubt your stubborn resolve," she murmurs wistfully, eating back into the more playful atmosphere your get-togethers almost always provided. 

"I feel as if it would be remiss of me to ask:  are the fathers single?"

"Naomi!"

"Come, now! Surely, you expected the question?"

And just like that, the conversation began to flow once more as the two of your enjoyed your time together long after your tea ran cold.

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Tag List:  @v-vic, @astridstark13

[kinksvt]

party lights 2.0 (m)

→ pairing: cocky!junhui x reader

♕ summary: what could go wrong at a party with the infamous wen junhui?

✱ genre/warnings: slight highschool!au, fuckboy!jun (sorta)

✱ warnings: unprotected sex, rough sex, slight dirty talk

✱ word count: 3,436

a/n: its been forever since i posted the first part and was requested to write a second part but i decided to rewrite the whole thing and just add the second part as well! so sorry for the long long wait :(

here is the first part if you really wanna read it!

You were never the one to go to a party willingly unless someone either convinced you, or dragged you by the wrist. This situation, however, was unfortunately the latter and that’s how you found yourself here. At your very first high school party. Your friend, Seulgi had a death grip on your arm, dragging you across the grass, to the front door. “Come on Y/N! We’re graduating soon and you haven’t even been to one party!”

You groaned, “You know I don’t like parties, Seul. That’s why I don’t go! I don’t like being around so many people that I don’t know with music so loud I can hardly hear myself think.”

Seulgi rolled her eyes. “You need to stop being such an introvert and at least try to get out more! This way you can make friends,” she paused. “Maybe even some guy friends.” Seulgi lowered her voice, teasing you.

At that, you rolled your own eyes. “You know I’m not here just to make guy friends.”

“Y/N. Do you want to die alone?”

You scoffed, “Jesus christ Seulgi, no! But I would like to make guy friends on my own account, thank you very much.” With that, you two arrived at the house, music blaring and different dim colored lighting shining through the windows. “Who’s throwing this party anyway?”

“The one and only Wen Junhui, of course.” Seulgi said as she rang the doorbell.

Your heart dropped as soon as the name left your friend’s mouth. You were all too familiar with who Wen Junhui was. He was quite possibly the only guy you didn’t enjoy. Junhui would always be flirting or chatting up girls, winking at them, making you cringe and wish you hadn’t witnessed it. It didn’t help that you had nearly all classes with him--which made him think it was okay to try and put the moves on you as well. More than once, more than twice. There probably isn’t a single girl at your school who he hasn’t flirted with Except, maybe the lower classmen. It actually wasn’t very long since he had done it to you though.

“Hey hot stuff.”

You let out a noise of annoyance and rolled your eyes, trying not to pay attention. You didn’t have to guess twice who the voice belonged to. That alluring voice that every girl swooned over belonged to the one and only Junhui. And sadly, you had to hear it just before heading home for the weekend.

“Don’t ignore me, that’s not nice.”

You were putting everything that you wouldn’t need in your locker to stay, of course having at least one assignment from one of your teachers. “Not ignoring you, just choosing not to acknowledge your existence.”

Junhui smirked which to his dismay, you didn’t see. You’re glad you didn’t, if you did you’d probably have to hold yourself back from slapping it off of his structured face. You slammed your locker after grabbing the last necessary folder and shot daggers at him. “Junhui, for the hundredth time, leave me be.” You walked off, only to have him follow you like a lost puppy.

“C’mon Y/N, why can’t I just be your friend?”

“Because, I know you. Everyone knows you. You’re not getting in my pants.”

Junhui groaned as you two headed out the main entrance. “Like you wouldn’t want that?” You stopped momentarily to smack him in the arm.  He whinced slightly and caressed his arm. “You know the next time I see you Y/N, you’re done for.” He said cockily as he stopped in his tracks.

You halted and turned around to look at him. “What does that mean?”

Junhui merely raised his eyebrows. “Guess you’ll have to wait and see, baby.” He whinked at you and began walking the opposite direction.

You swallowed dryly, recalling the memory. You didn’t know what he meant by “done for.” If it meant sexually or reputation wise but, you only hoped it wouldn’t be that bad.

The door opened, revealing a black haired Junhui, contrasting from his usual chestnut color from the last time you saw him. “Hey! It’s Seulgi and,” Junhui smiled as he looked you up and down. “Y/N.” There was something about the way he said your name that didn’t sit right in your gut. “Come on in, you two.”

You wanted to slap that smile off his face.

-

As the night went on, the party only got increasingly uninteresting to you. Seulgi had disappearing to the crowd, leaving you alone to sit on the couch by the snacks and drinks with Mountain Dew in your red solo cup. So much for a party.

You glanced all around the room, everyone seeming to be having a good time. Drinking whatever, dancing with whoever, people drunkenly kissing on the couch or against the well. Basically everything what you had thought a high school party would have. You just wished you had someone to talk to or at least someone so that you wouldn’t feel out of place.

“Why are you all alone baby?”

You closed your eyes, silently cursing whoever was up there. You wanted someone, anyone--anyone except him--to talk to. Why of all people did it have to be him? You opened your eyes and let out a breath as you turned around. “Seulgi ditched me, but to be quite honest, I’m perfectly fine with being alone, Junhui.”

He walked around the table and sat next to you. “You’re always so mean to me,” he slurred, pouting and scooting closer to you. “Why is that? Do you really not like me?” Junhui rested his head on the couch, giving you a doe eye look. He was definitely more than buzzed.

“I’m not interested in your games, Wen.” You took a sip from your cup as you actually slightly felt a little bit guilty. Yeah he’s a flirt but maybe he’s actually nice? You’ve never been so hostile to someone before.

Junhui threw his arm across your waist, “Come onnn, Y/N, why won’t you let me just have a taste of you?”

Your eyes widened, “What?” You placed your cup down in shock. “What do you mean by that?”

Junhui was staring at you, smiling. “You heard me, let at least get a taste of you Y/N. It wouldn’t hurt,” he chuckled. “Unless you want it to.” He said lowly. Junhui looked at your lips and bit his own as he slowly started to lean into you.

You wanted to stop him but, why would you? Why should you? The man is practically begging for you. Who would you be to say no? You decided to set aside your differences and personal disliking for Junhui and closed your eyes. Your mind was racking through all the endless possibilites that this could end. He could kiss and tell, leave you high and dry, lie and make up a rumor about you, etc. But all that went away when you felt his lips on yours after what felt about ages. You kissed him back, feeling his arm grip your hip. Junhui pulled you closer to bit and bit your lip, making you gasp softly. He slipped his tongue inside your mouth, earning a moan from you and also him. With his own, he roughly massaged his tongue against yours, sending pleasure throughout your body. Junhui placed his right hand on the side of your face to deepen the kiss as you threaded your fingers in his dark hair. When he sucked on your tongue, you accidentally tugged on it, resulting in him releasing a groan from his throat. You quickly backed away, “Are you okay? I’m sorry I didn’t mean to hurt-”

“Do it again.” Junhui said seriously, staring into your eyes and making you gulp. His irises seemed darker somehow, intimidating you. You merely nodded as the kiss resumed, more desperate, needy and heavy.

You both sat on the couch, still by the food table. Fellow party goers gawked and others awkwardly their drinks quick. Junhui’s hands smoothed every part of your body and when he grabbed your ass, you couldn’t help but let out a small moan into his mouth. Junhui pulled away from the kiss and you two rested your foreheads together, breathless. Junhui’s lips were swollen and glistening with your saliva, which--you couldn’t lie--turned you on even more. You could only imagine what yours looked like. He smirked once more, “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted you like this, babe. I thought you’d never come around.”

“What do you mean?” You timidly avoided his gaze as he leaned back against the couch.

Instead of answering you, he grabbed your hand. “Come with me.” He led you away from everyone towards upstairs as the music got slightly less obnoxious. Junhui connected his lips with yours again and began walking backwards, stumbling into a dark room. He closed the door with his foot, followed by a loud bam. His hands never left the sides of your face as he turned you around and made you fall back on--what you could assume- was a bed. Junhui laughed against your lips, a smile plastered on.

“What’s so funny?”

“Remember all those times when you didn’t want anything to do with me, angel?” His body suddenly left yours and he stood in front of you. Both of your eyes adjusted to the darkness, being able to see his form looming over you. “Now look at you,” he said, as if he could actually see you well--but he wished. He could imagine the look you had on your face under him, your cheeks red, lips pink, pupils blown, ready for him to ruin entirely.

“Junhui please-” You said desperately.

The bed dipped on each side of you and you felt his breath fan over your ear. “So needy for me already baby? I haven’t even done anything.” His hand felt up your torso and found your breast, kneading it and making you arch your back into his touch. “Strip for me, angel.” Junhui got up once more as you obeyed his command. He flipped the light on as you pulled your shirt over your head. “You’re so pretty, Y/N,” Junhui praised mindlessly while you tossed your shirt against the wall.

You blushed and unbuttoned your jeans somewhat before Junhui’s large hands stopped you. He gently pushed your stomach, silently telling you to lay down. He looked at you, asking with his eyes if you’re sure about everything. As soon as you gave him the okay, he unzipped your pants and dragged them down your legs. You shivered at the temperature change and before anything else could happen, there was a knock at the door.

Jun groaned, “What?” He asked, clearly pissed off.

“U-Uhm, hyung?” The unknown person stuttered, evidently intimidated even while being behind the door.

Junhui rolled his eyes as he recognized the boy’s voice. “What do you want, Chan?”

“Theres, uh, some people who crashed the party.”

“What? What happened?”

“These guys.. they’re trying to sell drugs and mess up your place more, breaking things and stuff.”

“What the fuck,” Junhui whispered and he looked at you. He clearly didn’t want to deal with the guys Chan was talking about. “Goddamn it,” he rubbed his temples and stood up, giving you a clear view of his boner straining against his black jeans. “Stay here, I’m not finished with you.” He gave you a kiss on the lips along with a wink and left the room.

-

You didn’t even know how long it was when Junhui finally came back. His face showed his annoyance and you weren’t sure if he still wanted to continue with what was escalating before he had left. He sighed and closed the door, huffing.

“Everything alright?” You cautiously questioned and he ran his fingers through his hair.

“Yeah, everyone left so I’m making my friends clean up.”

“Aren’t you gonna help?”

He smirked and looked at you. “No, but you are.”

“What?-” Before you could ask what Junhui meant, he walked over to you.

“You’re gonna help with my little problem baby.” You glanced down and noticed he still--or again--had a boner and your brain clicked. “You want to, right?” You nodded eagerly and he smiled. “That’s a good girl.” Junhui started to unbutton his shirt, slipping the material off his shoulders and showing off his toned stomach, along with a patch of hair trailing down his lower abdomen. You swallowed as his hands unbuckled his belt, sliding it out of the loops. You were in a trance as you watched his fingers and hands take off his clothes. Junhui finally slid down his pants and pushed you into the bed, roughly kissing you and pressing his clothed cock into your heat. Both of you moaned as your tongues swirled around together. 

Junhui broke the kiss and began kissing your neck, sucking harshly, leaving hickeys that will be a pain to cover up later. “J-Jun,” you gasped, as he mumbled in response against your skin. “I-I need you, now.”

Junhui stopped his actions and nodded. “So do I.” He tugged his boxers down, his cock springing out and making you bite back a moan. “Like what you see babe?”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Shut up and fuck me already, Junhui.”

He hummed, “You don’t have to tell me twice.” Junhui leaned down and hooked his fingers under your panties. He pulled them down your legs, painfully slow making you whine out his name. Junhui merely shushed you as he continued until he finally tossed them on the floor. He kissed you again as his fingers found his way between your folds, making a sound that heated your body up. “You’re so wet for me and I haven’t even done anything.” Junhui said, arrogance laced in his words. If you weren’t so horny, you probably would’ve slapped him right then and there. Instead, you pushed against his fingers, wanting more than what he was giving you. “What’s the matter?”

“Jun, skip the foreplay now or I’ll find someone else to do the job.” Right after you said that, it was like something snapped in him.

Junhui growled and turned you over roughly, taking a fistful of your hair and pulling you back. “No one will be able to fuck you like me, angel.”

You moaned as you felt the head of his cock between your folds. “You have a condom?”

“Shit, I don’t.” Junhui mentally slapped himself, hopefully not ruining the moment.

“Just don’t get me pregnant.” You assured, along with a laugh that was cut short by the feeling of Junhui slowly entering inside you. You and Junhui let out a long moan as he stayed still, allowing you to adjust to his size.

“You’re tight,” he nervously laughed, which sounded like half a laugh and half a moan.

“M-Move, please.” You begged. Junhui did just as you asked and began pulling out before entering you faster. He moaned as he kept repeating his previous actions, gradually picking up his pace. You held yourself up as best as you could as Junhui pounded into you, pleasure taking over both of you. Moans and slapping noises filled the room, making you blush and turn you on even more. “F-Fuck, J-Jun,” You purred, unable to hold back your pathetic whines.

Junhui grunted, “Fuck, say my name again.”

“J-Jun,” you whimpered and he lost it.

“Fuck!” He shouted and suddenly pulled out of you before flipping you back over and ramming into you. You screamed as Junhui grabbed your legs and put them over his shoulders to enter you in a better angle. And boy was he right to do that.

The head of Junhui’s cock brushed against a spot in you that had you crying out. He continued to fuck you as he leaned down to kiss you again. Your moans mixed with his between both of your mouths. Junhui’s hand snaked up your body and played with your boob again. His fingers pinched your nipple as you two made out needily.

“Jun? Are you in there?”

Junhui groaned as there was knocking on the door once again.

“Should we say something?” You whispered.

Junhui smirked and suddenly fucked into you again, making you whine loudly. You covered your mouth, embarrassed that--whoever was behind the door--heard. “Jun I’m gonna ki-” Junhui fucked into you again, shutting you up.

“What was that baby?” He grunted as he began giving you more hickeys. Junhui sucked all over your neck, increasing the amount of pleasure in all of your senses. 

You gripped his back, lightly scratching accidentally but receiving a moan from him. Smiling, you scratched his back harder and he sucked your neck harder in response. Your mind wandered to if the person was still behind the door. Thinking about if they still were, listening to you and Junhui made your walls tighten subconsciously. 

“S-Shit, Y/N,” Junhui was losing his mind. It took every ounce of willpower in his body to not break you then and there. But with the way you respond to him, the sounds you let out, made it harder to hold back. He tore his hand away from your chest and decided to find your clit, rubbing roughly.

“Jun!” You let out a moan that boosted Junhui’s confidence, making him pinch it slightly. You threw your head back into the mattress. It hurt but in a way that made your head spin and toes go numb. You moved your legs off his shoulders and pulled him closer, linking your ankles around each other behind his back. “P-Please,”

“What do you want, princess?” Junhui managed to say without moaning in between. You looked like a mess, but a pretty mess. Your eyes reminded him of a puppy’s, your cheeks flushed, hickeys beginning to bloom all over your neck, your hair also a mess on the bed, eyebrows furrowed in a pleading look.

“Fuck, please, please harder,” You never been so turned on in your life. Junhui was already going hard but that was the last straw.

Junhui grabbed your thigh and began ramming into you with such force that made your boobs move with each movement. You chanted his name over and over, moaning and small hiccups between because of him fucking you so ruthlessly. “God, I’ve wanted you for so long. The more you rejected me, made me want to try and break you and--oh, fuck--get you to give me at l-least one chance.” He threw his head back, still never slowing down.

“I wish I did earlier, I-I’m sorry,” you swallowed dryly, feeling your orgasm build.

“Y/N, you feel so good,” Junhui let out a long, high moan--one that you’d never expect to leave from someone like him. And it only made you wetter and closer to cumming.

“S-So do you Junnie, fuck, you’re so big.” You teased, trying to get him closer as well.

“Keep talking like that.” He breathed, his mouth opening slightly.

“Y-You were right. No one could fuck me like you Junnie, you fuck me s-so well.” Surprisingly, your dirty talk came out naturally--despite hardly ever talking like that before.

Junhui grunted softly, “I’m gonna cum soon, Y/N.”

“Me too,” you gripped onto his bicep as his face started to contort into pure ecstasy. You focused on the feeling of his cock inside you, trying to edge yourself so you could be able to cum with him. He was bigger than the previous guys you’ve been with and was definitely thicker too. The slight stretch, the slight sting, was all euphoric for you. Junhui was an experience you hoped you wouldn’t forget--and wouldn’t be just a one-time thing.

“Y/N,” Junhui said, snapping you out of your thoughts. “I’m gonna cum,” he suddenly pulled out of you and quickly began jerking himself off.

You followed his actions and gathered your wetness against your folds and rubbed your clit. You slipped two fingers inside of your pussy, imagining it was still him.

You both held eye contact as Junhui came first, moaning out your name. Cum spurt out of his cock and onto your lower stomach, some getting in the crevice of your boobs. That was the final push you needed and you came shortly after, yelling his name a little louder than either of you thought. The world began to stop for a moment, your clit forming its own harsh heartbeat.

He let out a sigh of relief as he fell onto the bed next to you. Your chests moving up and down. After a small moment of silence, Junhui cleared his throat. “So this isn’t like a one night stand, right?”

You moved your head to face him, noticing that he was already looking at you. “I was hoping that it wasn’t,” you replied softly.

He smiled, “Good, because I actually wanna get to know you, Y/N.”

“Me too, and sorry for judging you so quickly.”

“I don’t blame you.” Junhui sat up and got a washrag from somewhere. He cleaned the cum off of your body and gave you a look.

“What?” You questioned, glancing at where the evidence was.

“I think that we should go wash it off instead.”

[minsugapie]

The Eve: part 2 (2032 words) - Tom was right

• • • • • •

Lumi is down on her luck. After graduating university with a business degree, she has yet to secure a career in that path, reluctantly working and living at an old motel instead.

Kim Jongin is on the run. He’s been framed for embezzlement, and someone faked his death while he was out of town. With only a handful of bills and a false identity, he had been only able to survive for so long until breaking down in front of an old motel, hoping that whoever found him wouldn’t report him to the authorities.  

• • • • • •

prev // current // next

masterlist

• • • • • •

YAY! the day has finally arrived then i feel like writing again! i honestly don’t even know what got over me, but i hope this feeling sticks around bc it’s wonderful. Anyways, please enjoy...

• • • • • •

Before heading out to do the laundry, Lumi knew she should at least clean up some of the cuts on his skin. Jongin’s face held less harsh lines, even though his fists were holding the blankets up to his neck to keep himself warm. She should have realized that her leaving the covers would have taken away some of the heat that he’d needed. It was one thing to make him warm…the other was to make sure he stayed warm.

She felt awful as she took the blankets off of him, so she turned the heat up a little more, leaving herself in only a t-shirt. It was too hot for her, but this wasn’t about her right then. His hands didn’t want to let go of the blankets, and she only managed to listen the grip when she softly pried his fingers away from them. His body flinched initially when her fingers touched his, but what was actually surprised her was how his fingers had instantly gone from clutching the blanket to wrapping around her own. She didn’t want to let go of them, but she needed both her inexperienced hands to feign being a nurse. 

Taking out the medical kit from the paper grocery bag, she assessed what needed attention then and what was fine for now. Goosebumps arose all over his chest and those when she stated cleaning a particularly nasty cut stretching across his collarbone to his pec. 

“I know it stings and it’s cold,” she gently whispered, quickly putting her hand up to his forehead to check his temperature out of reflex, “but it’ll be over soon and you can go back to being warm.”

It took her a little over half an hour to successfully clean the wounds he had received from whatever fight he had gotten into, with the occasional whimper or flinch from Jongin, but she was relieved when she realized that nothing was bad enough to need legitimate medical attention.

When she finally put the covers back, she leaned over him to make sure that everything was tucked in and warm, her hair fell over her shoulder and onto his face without he realizing. She backed away, after swearing that she had seen his eye flicker open. She must have been dreaming because he was unconscious and could barely move. 

Whispering to him once again as she fixed a strand of his hair that fell into his eyes, she said, “I’ll be back soon, okay? I can’t have you dying on my watch.”

• • • • • •

Lumi felt guilty leaving him there all by himself again, especially when it was her day off, but she needed to do her own laundry and clean his clothes, too. Who knew when the last time he cleaned them was? 

Judging by ‘byun’ on his phone, he was down on his luck. Lumi checked to see if there were previous messages from the person, but there were none. There was also no password on the phone, nor were there any other apps besides messages and the default apps that weren’t able to be deleted.  

He was a man on the run, so she guessed it made sense that he kept himself as low-key as physically possible. 

She was thankful that the laundromat was empty today, save two people that were always there when she was. One of them was the worker and the other was Jamie, a man that unfortunately had the same work schedule as her. If anyone in this town was suitable for Lumi, it might have been Jamie, at least Tom thought so. 

“Morning, Jamie,” Lumi smiled, taking over her usual washing machine. She began to throw the clothes into the machine when she felt his presence beside her. 

“You dropped this,” he said, picking up a large men’s flannel. Lumi knew he was going to say something, so she thought of what to say before he was even able to ask it. “Why are you washing a bunch of men’s clothes?” 

“Um, they’re mine,” she ended up blurting, grabbing it from his hand and stuffing it into the machine. All her clothes were thrown on top of it. Taking a deep breath, she continued, “Actually, it’s the style nowadays to wear baggy men’s clothes.”

“But I’ve never seen you wear it, and it looks worn,” he pushed. She knew that Jamie didn’t mean anything by it, but she was nervous. Obviously, since she was balancing on the tight rope of the law at this point. 

Byun had told Lumi to be careful and that it was dangerous, so she absolutely had to keep Jongin a secret. 

“They were left behind by someone at the motel, and I was going to take them. It’s winter now, so the more layers, the better, you know?” She smiled, trying to show off the little charm she had. She did know that Jamie thought she was pretty. It seemed to work on him as he nodded his head and backed away. 

“I guess that makes sense,” he concluded, going to put his own clothes into the dryer. Because she’d already done a few things this morning, she was later than usual. Actually, it was almost a blessing because he’d be out of there faster than usual, deceasing the amount of time they’d actually have to spend together. 

Lumi breathed a sigh of relief before putting in her headphones and pretending that she didn’t know Jamie as she waited for the laundry to be done. 

Something finally worked out in her favour because Jamie didn’t talk to her again, and she was able to finish the laundry in peace. When she was finally able to head back to the motel, she began to get nervous. What if he’d left? 

But then she remembered that she left him there in his underwear, and she had all his clothes. The very thought made her smile. The situation was kind of funny. Never did she think she’d see a shirtless Jongin that close, let alone have him unknowingly trust her with his life. Yet she remembered that he might have died last night if it hadn’t been for her. 

She ran to her room when it came into sight, being as quiet as she could when she closed the door. Jongin was still sleeping, so she set to work putting her clothes away and made sure to fold his for him. When she picked up a few pairs of underwear, she couldn’t help but blush. He’d worn them. The man of every one of her fantasies had worn those pairs of underwear, and here she was in the same room as him. 

Her life was just beginning to get interesting. 

She noticed the note was in his hand, so he must have woken up, at least for a moment. She stood up and went to him to check if he was still warm enough. She lightly touched his face with her fingers and then felt his chest to see how cold it was. He was warm, colour back in his face and lips. 

All of a sudden, a hand roughly grabbed her throat, surprising her. 

Jongin’s eyes shot open, and he looked at her, sitting up. Lumi was speechless, not only because his hand was choking her, but also because she’d never heard of him having an aggressive side like this. 

Her brow was furrowed as she hastily grabbed and clawed at his arm to let her go. It was no use, however, because he was so much stronger than she was. 

She shook her head as much as possible, pleading mentally for him to let her go. She was going to pass out any second from lack of oxygen. “I didn’t…call…the police,” she struggled so much that she wasn’t sure he was even able to understand. 

When he let go, she fell to the floor, clutching at her throat. There were surely going to be bruises. 

He stared at her few a few moments, probably trying to figure her out as she coughed, obviously struggling to regain her breath. He scratched his chest and then realized that there weren’t any clothes there. He pulled the blanket up to his neck and narrowed his eyes at her. He quickly looked under the blanket to check if he had on any underwear.

She coughed again, still trying to clear her throat after what he’d done to her. She slowly started shuffling backward and away from him. Never once did she think he would do something like that to someone who had saved him. 

Then again, he was probably just as scared as she was in this situation. She realized too that he had been completely out of it when she brought him in. He couldn’t have known who she was. 

She shook her head crazily as she tried to get her voice to work again. He couldn’t think that she took advantage of him. “I cleaned them!” She pointed at the pile of folded clothes at the end of the bed. He looked at them before looking back at her. 

There was an expression of curiosity on his face as he took her in more. His stare bore into hers like nothing she’d ever felt before. 

“Please, just drink some water and eat something,” she pleaded, getting a piece of bread and putting it in front of him with a banana. “I’ll explain when you’re healthy again.”

He stared at the items in front of him before picking them up and eating them hungrily. She read that it was important not to feed someone too much to begin with otherwise they could get sick. 

When he was done eating, he took another full water bottle and laid back on the bed. He stared at her as she sat on the chair across the room, watching him. He was different from what she’d imagined. He was calmer and spoke a lot less. He actually seemed reserved –unlike most businessmen that she’d met.

• • • • • •

Jongin was curious about her. She hadn’t called the police on him. She washed his clothes. She even fed him. And he’d almost killed her. 

He hadn’t meant to be so aggressive, but he was scared. The last thing he remembered was wandering along the highway, looking for a place to take refuge. 

There was one other thing he remembered. He didn’t know if it was a memory or if it was just conjured up in his mind. 

It was a woman, platinum blonde hair and pale skin, telling him to drink and again leaning over his frame. It was definitely a memory because as he thought of it now, the person that had pleaded with him to get better was the woman sitting in the chair across the room from him. 

She looked and acted like an angel, and he nearly killed her, most likely bruising the pale skin of her throat. She was a literal saviour.

But why would she want to save him? It might have been better for everyone if he had he simply died. 

• • • • • •

When Jongin finally fell asleep again, Lumi went to the bathroom to look at her reflection. She was right, her neck was bruising. There were purple fingerprints on her skin, reminding her of how stupid this situation was. Tom was right. 

How could she have just trusted him? He really could have killed those people and embezzled all that money. She had no idea who he really was. 

Taking a deep breath, she vowed that she would learn his side of the story. 

As she continued to stare at the bruises on her neck, her mind wandered back to the text messages. Byun had said that he was sure it was a guy named D.O. Could they have been talking about the crimes? It couldn’t have been anything else; it was too much of a coincidence. 

Throwing on a scarf to cover her neck, she locked the door once again and made her way to the diner to have some dinner. She’d have to bring a lot of leftovers home, so it wouldn’t be just salad for her tonight. 

[klvht]

The Occult vs. “A Cult”

The Occult vs. “A Cult”

How many can agree that Christianity is a cult?

I thought so too, at first.

I grew up in a Catholic faith, went to a Catholic church, and attended a Catholic school. Over the years, it has changed. I have been to a few different churches, but all focused-on God.

I believe a couple days ago, that God put it on my heart to write about the occult and witchcraft, but I wasn’t sure how to, in order to get my full point across; So I figured I’d just share my journey.

As many of you know, I used to live in Salem, MA & have been visiting there for most of my life. (Shout out to Mr. Roy who had brought my father up there almost his whole life as well, R.I.P.) Don’t get me wrong, Salem is a BEAUTIFUL place, and I love it there, even til this day. The area is super peaceful, has an amazing history, and is overly beautiful. I believe that Salem is one of the centers of witchcraft, and unfortunately, I got into it too. I used to read oracle cards, use a pendulum, practice spells, create sigils, the list goes on. Even as a little girl, my parents were getting their car fixed, and there was a witch there who wanted to speak with me, for whatever reason, which now I find funny that I ended up walking down the same unrighteous path as her later on in life (but as early as 12 years old).

Let’s go back to the home that started it all... upstate, NY. I got my first pack of oracle cards when I used to live in a house built in the 1800’s; my mom purchased them for me. They were contained in a beautiful package littered with “Angel” messages, that would help me tell the future. I also had my first pendulum in that house that I purchased from a visit in Salem. It was a beautiful home, the first one my parents purchased, and we had acres of land, including and above ground pool, a separate garage/bay/barn area, chickens, guinea hens, and an awesome pup.

Above the garage/bay/barn area, there was a door. You walked up the stairs in my backyard, up the hill to the right, and found it. It was very weird, but since the home was so old, we never thought anything about it. I remember the first door, and first room. It was wood, dark, damp, and gross lol. But if you kept walking forward, you came to this second door. I cannot stress enough that this door had Satanic writing all over it, including warnings saying “demon/devil inside”, “do not open”, had a big pentagram on the door, as well as sigils written all over it in what I believed to be red paint or ink. Thinking about it now, I wish I never had the curiosity to open that door, I wish I understood that it was a true warning, whether people believed it to be or were just fooling around. I truly believe upon opening that door is what could have led to the outpouring of demonic and evil spirits in that house, and could have latched on to my family, because once we moved into that home, things were never the same. I remember a trap door being in there, and I remember a burst of warm/hot air that came out as soon as I opened it. It took me a while to open that door, and I’m not sure if that was the only reason, but there were ghosts in my house, and demons, and no one knew any better. My mother saw, felt, and heard a few different ghosts in that house. One she called the ‘cowboy ghost’ which stood in the doorway in one of the hallways that went by my living room and led to the upstairs. She was also in our downstairs bathroom one time, and heard a woman call out “Hello…” as if she just wanted my mother to know that she was there. Lastly, my mother was asleep on the couch one day, and woke up to something screaming in her face, which I know now, had to be a demon. My sister at the time, who could not have been older than 4 when we were living at that house, saw a little boy ghost walk straight through the wall. I never saw anything, but I never really have, I’ve just always been the one to feel presences.

There was sooo much negative energy in that house, and sorry to say it, but so much had manifested over time and had increased the greediness, heartlessness, separation, and negativity in my family. I didn’t see my parents much, they ran a successful construction business out of the home, us kids would NEVER go downstairs or walk around at night by ourselves, and my brother was definitely attacked and latched to in that house.

Upon seeing, feeling, and experiencing all this, my mom went to the local psychic to find out what was going on. She did not know, but trust me, you guys should NOT be relying on a psychic to tell you about your life. The psychic may tell you true things, they may be able to see your home through their ‘third eye’, and they could probably predict things that actually came true at a later date, BUT their messages come from Satan, and other evil spirits who wish to destroy, manipulate, and kill. I’ve experienced this a few times, I’ll elaborate in a few paragraphs to come. The psychic my mom went to, described our home “to a T”. She spoke about my grandfather who had passed, and other life experiences my mom had gone through, which most psychics start off with to gain trust. Then she moved on to how a dark entity was basically scaring my brother day in and day out; he wouldn’t even shower alone. She told my mom how our home was a “walk through” for spirits because there were two cemeteries on each side of the home, down the road both ways. I don’t remember if we ever tried to pray Jesus over the home, or had a priest bless the home.

My mother became ill in that house. Long story short, she collapsed on her and my father’s wedding anniversary in 2005, and my dad resuscitated her. I fully believe she has been latched on to, regardless of what anyone says. It has been 15 years, and the doctors STILL don’t know what is fully wrong or what happened that day. She has had multiple operations, been on a variety of medications, and still, cannot seem to get better.

My most recent encounter was with the New Age religion, earlier in this quarantine time, sometime in February 2020, which seems to collaborate all types of faiths, such as buddhism, chakra practices, satanism, witchcraft, meditation, spirit guides, and even some excerpts from the Bible. The problem was, that I have always known that I had a type of psychic gift, as well as, I considered myself to be an empath; and while that may be true, I did not hold the true meaning or source of these gifts, that were given to me by God, and manipulated by Satan.

What I got out of being involved with multiple groups of “The Great Awakening”, moving from “4D to 6D consciousness”, practicing “meditation” to find my “spirit guides”, “the law of attraction”, etc. was that it is ALL motivated by Satan and manipulated to deceive the souls created by God, to fool them, and to use them for his purpose, just by putting a simple twist on the subject, and to practice this type of inclusivity that the world had never seen before. That’s the thing about Satan, he appears warm & fuzzy, cool & collected, cares about all types of love and inclusivity, JUST to deceive people. He’s an evil mastermind. Remember that when he decides to reveal himself and push his new world order, just as the Bible says will come in these end times.

Let me tell you, the New Age religion is false. I found myself headed down the path very abruptly, and it was like I could not focus on anything else. Whatever demons I was letting into my life legally, (because that’s what you do when you welcome and practice in sin, worldly matters, emotions, feelings, and forms of witchcraft), were now starting to manifest and turn my whole world upside down. I was in a dark and depressed time, suicidal thoughts were again surfacing, I wasn’t caring about my wellbeing, I was hateful towards others, the list goes on.

One day I was meditating to find my “spirit guides”, and idk maybe about 10-15 minutes in, while focusing on my ‘third eye’ chakra, I saw a demon. A literal demon. It was crawling on all fours, had menacing, scary, sharp, flesh ripping teeth, and it JUMPED at me. (Think of those stupid jump scare videos on social media). As SOON as that happened, I called out to Jesus and said the ‘Our Father’ prayer, and instantly at once, I felt safe again. It was either that day or a few days later, that Jesus visited me in a dream to save me once again, because I had decided to focus on dark powers to give myself purpose, identity, and power. He was there for me, even though I left the path that He was with me on.

Others that I have spoken to that once practiced meditation and finding ‘spirit guides’, said that as soon as they turned to Christianity and Jesus once again, the same thing happened. These ‘spirit guides’ were demonic in spirit, but appeared as nice, helpful beings initially. This is terrifying stuff guys, but that’s what Satan is all about. He wants to deceive you until the very last second when Jesus comes, just so you will worship Satan and his beasts, rather than knowing that you can call on Jesus anytime to come help. There really is no way to “close the circle” as some witches call it during some of their sacrificing, or “white magic” rituals.

I have to admit, that I do feel guilty and a bit of groaning within me because I waited so long to write on this, because God put it in my mind and in my heart a couple days ago. And now look, there’s a full moon/eclipse that’s happening tonight, and witches all around the world are trying to “hex the racists”, “restore order”, and “bring peace” with their practices TONIGHT. I’m just glad that God showed me that before I went another day without writing on this subject.

Again, if you have any questions or want to hear more about my experiences, (I have plenty more that I may write about), feel free to comment or inbox me.

Thanks for reading,

God Bless You,

Jesus Saves.

I love you guys.