#it for years and almost went to prison because of it but I wasn’t aware my mother had done much other than weed

[corset]

Weird as hell belatedly learning both my parents apparently had incredibly prolific and notoriously adventurous sex lives?

[cybiirz]

ೃ⁀➷ THE FACADE OF A PUPPETEER

Wriothesley x Fem!reader

Sypnosis : Many moons ago, you were sent to the Fortress Of Meropide for a number of crimes, ones that even criminals would name you evil for. However, even with your already busted up reputation upon entry, in a few short years, you had managed to become one of the most respected prisoners in the Fortress. Your ways were unquestioned by others, but not by the Warden himself. That is what caused you to be stuck having a tea party with the man. Although his attempt at fishing the information out of you seemed unsuccessful at first, it seems you were becoming excited to see where this would lead. But maybe there was also another operation happening, one where your true self would have to finally be revealed.

WC : 1.7K

WARNINGS : Mentions of murder, Wriothesley might be a little ooc idk, reader is manipulative, not rlly much else

A prison warden such as himself would typically be considered strict, would he not? Well, he went against those expectations, mostly. He was surprisingly a kind soul compared to many of the other guards considering the fact that he actually cared for the prisoners well being.

But there was one inmate who just constantly got under his skin. You. In all fairness, you were actually quite the intelligent woman. In the few years you had been pretty much living here, you had already managed to gain many others' trust.

That didn’t mean you were kind though, all inmates had a side of theirs with some evil intent, otherwise they wouldn’t be here. The way you had climbed the ranks seemed to be legit on the outside, but Wriothesley had become curious and did some digging of his own.

And lo and behold, the sweet lady who was too kind for her own good was one of the most deceitful people he’s ever heard of. Gaining coupons by simple pick pocketing wasn’t unheard of, but he had learnt that you were too advanced to participate in such a measly method.

No, instead you would manage to get your hands on other’s coupons through secret events. Small competitions were held that were supposedly led by different people each time. But there was always a mastermind behind the puppet. That mastermind was unknown to the public.

Every person who hosted said competitions seemed to have no links towards each other whatsoever. What no one else knew however was that they all led back to one person, and that person would be in charge of the coupons gained. It was almost like gambling, stupid people would bet their coupons and would either win or lose.

But you were not one to rig such games, goodness no. That would be diabolical. All you had was lady luck by your side. But Wriothesley didn’t buy it, for he had figured out that you practically ran the prison without people being aware. The amount of coupons had earned you respect and power, the two things that could easily become others' downfall.

Which is why he was surprised you hadn’t fallen just yet. The warden had become increasingly suspicious of your activities and would always be on the watch for you. But no matter how hard he tried, your facade of being this gentle soul was always up and about. He had to catch you some other way. Which is how you ended up here.

“Good evening, your Grace. Is this an urgent matter, because I highly doubt you would call someone into your office for a small debuckle,” You questioned the man as you finally stepped onto the floor of his office. Wriothesley sat there with one elbow propped on the arm of the chair and the other flat against the opposite arm.

“No no, nothing you need to be too worried about. Come, take a seat,” He gestured towards the chair in front of him as he stood up and made his way over to the shelf. “May I interest you in some tea?” He asked, his back facing you.

“I’ll pass unfortunately, I recently ate something from the cafeteria so i’m quite full up myself,” You politely declined his offer before taking a seat onto the cushioned stool. You crossed one leg over the other as you placed both hands into your lap.

“Suit yourself. Now, I don’t mean to waste your time here, but I would like to give you some…praise,” He commented as he began to heat up a kettle and grab a tea cup from the shelf. You raised an eyebrow.

“May I ask what for? I do not recall doing something explicitly amazing,” You replied in honest confusion. You heard him let out a chuckle as he poured the hot water into the cup and placed the bag into the liquid.

“Yes I suppose you’re right. What you have done isn’t explicit to anyone else. And it is rather impressive how fast you have managed to gain coupons here,” He took a seat, now sitting opposite you as he spread his legs to get comfier into the chair. Surprisingly, it was weirdly attractive.

“Ah yes, I consider myself astronomically lucky with the amount of coupons I have gained so far. Not to mention the friends I made along the way,” Your response was confident and bright. Just the behaviour he expected.

“Mhm, most people would call it luck as well. However, based on my observation, I would call it something different,” His eyes bore into yours as the two of you made direct eye contact.

“Oh? And what would you call it sir?” You asked in a low tone. The two of you were both aware that he was onto you, but playing along wouldn’t hurt you.

“Pure strategy. From the moment you stepped onto these grounds, you had a plan in mind. One that would immediately raise you to be a respected person which I admire. My only question is, what are the chances you could give me every step of that plan right here and now?” This caused you to become slightly bewildered. He wanted to know your plan?

“And what exactly would that gain you?” You replied. He let out another short laugh before leaning forward slightly.

“It doesn’t need to gain me anything. All I want to know about is the brain behind that beauty of yours,” His remark was shamelessly flirtatious.

“Do you believe that simple flattery will get you anywhere, warden? Do not forget, you are also a prisoner here, all you have earned is the privilege to this fortress’s budget and management. I do not think you deserve my plans. Now if you will excuse me, there is a sparring match in the Pankration Ring which I would rather not miss,” As you began to stand up and dust off your clothing, you made your way towards the steps.

But before you could even step foot onto the metal, a shadow came up behind you before a voice practically rumbled against the walls.

“I don’t believe we have finished this conversation yet,” Wriothesley’s voice was intimidating to say the least, but you immediately retracted your foot and turned your head over your shoulder before turning back to face him again.

You reached out and grabbed the loose tie of his. “Tell you what, how about you let me go and see that match that I have just been dying to experience,” You tightened the red material before patting the knot and felt part of his rough skin against your hands. “And then you can take me on a date and we continue this later under…different circumstances hm?”

Your eyes turned up to face him as you put on that innocent act. Archons, he didn’t expect your teasing to have this much effect on him. Nevertheless, he decided to go along with it.

“I’ll pick you up at 5:30 sharp. Dress pretty, I like girls who put in effort,” He brought his face closer to yours as you felt his breath just brushing your lips. The tension was so thick that you’d practically need a sword to cut through it.

“Count on it,” Your reply was short before you turned away again, making your way down the steps. Wriothesley eyed your figure down as you finally disappeared from his line of sight. Once you did, he went back to his table and picked up a document.

“(Name) (Last Name)

Convicted for first degree murder of *********, ********* and *******.

Danger : Extreme. Do not let her number of facades fool you. Lay low and do not interact, instead observe from a distance. She is evil and we sent her to the Fortress Of Meropide for you to straighten this demon out. Do not disappoint us warden.”

“So much for laying low…” Wriothesley mumbled to himself. How on earth was he going to change your ways…?

A/N : Yeahhh so it’s been about 2-3 weeks since I wrote smth so i’m very sorry for that. I don’t really know how to continue Gepard’s series but I definitely want to. If anyone wants to pitch any ideas, please do. But I am going to be occupied with a bunch of upcoming tests for the next week or two. Until then, i’ll most likely write headcannons, oneshots and maybe some short fics for whatever character you guys want. Apologies again for the long break.

[swifty-fox]

so would anyone care for a Kfak-Compliant Brady one shot?

Telling Major John Egan to jump is the first and last time Johnny Brady gives an order to a superior officer. It’s automatic, not-thought out. A knee-jerk reflex; if I don’t make sure this man gets off my ship he’s not leaving. 

He can’t go without him. The idea of facing Buck Cleven in a prison camp or in the afterlife however many hours, days, years from now and telling him he let his man die is unfeasible. It’s not how the rules work. Buck and Bucky make it, that’s the big rule. So if he breaks the little rules, ordering Major Egan to jump, taking him up in his fort even though he’s not supposed to be here, then he rationalizes it that way. 

It’s quiet up in the sky, the sound of burning screeching metal snatched away in seconds by momentum and gravity. He’s alone for the first time in years, and it’s a disconcerting panicked feeling as he floats helpless in blue, blue heavens. When he hits the ground, rolling his ankle and gouging a furrow in thick peat mud and without his Major, he realizes just because he made John Egan jump doesn’t mean he’s saved his life. It’s automatic, standing and testing his ankle on the strange moss-covered ground that pitched and wobbled like the deck of a ship with every shift of his weight. Sinks his teeth into his wrist until blood bubbles to muffle his cry when his ankle barely accepts his weight. Bundles his parachute and stuffs it in the mud so the white color doesn’t give him away and rips his insignias from his uniform.

It’s the best he can do.

It’s not more than two hours before he’s captured, gun to the back of his head and harsh German voices telling him to kneel. Mud that’s also blood coating his face and burning with a rage so hard he shakes. It could be the cold, sunk down to his bones with damp and unfamiliarity. Soil that wasn’t his by birthright, you don’t belong here soldier boy. This isn’t your gravedirt. It could be cold and grief and fear, but he chooses to name it as rage and grits his teeth as he limps on his bum ankles and tells the interrogator his name rank and number and recites his mother's recipe for soda bread when anything else tries to come up. 

Has Major Egan or Major Cleven come through? Did you pick up a man named Bernard Demarco?

They threaten to kill him. He’s reliably sure it’s a bluff, because there’s rules to all of this. They try to woo him and he knows that’s a bluff because you don’t make soldiers with kindness. He has his rules, he has his orders. He says nothing and wishes they would hit him so he could hit back. Wishes they would turn the blood he tastes on his teeth real so it feels less like terror.

They don’t. Everyone follows routine.

A RAF pilot binds his ankle on the train ride to the rest of his war, it rains and he cups his hands through the slats of the train to wash his face clean of peat-mud. Chill settles over them all at night, damp and horrible and he doesn’t sleep a wink, too aware of being surrounded by men who didn’t belong to him until David Solomon and Crank’s heads pop up from down the other end of the cart and the three of them fall together in a hushed pile of who made it who did they see who went down. Did you see John Egan? Did you see Bucky I got him out but I lost him in the clouds.

He wonders if maybe God snatched Bucky right from his parachute harness. 

He gives Solly his crucifix, feels mildly sick when it’s pulled from his slack fingers and almost snatches it back until Crank takes in the look on his face and presses his rosary into Brady’s empty palm.

“Here. It’s my sister’s anyway, she’d rather it be on the neck of someone who uses it.”

“Thank you,” it’s unfamiliar against his chest, warm from Crank’s body heat and a different shape. But it’s got fifty-nine beads like all the rest and he counts them one by one with frozen fingers and recites the five decades in his head until he falls asleep on Crank’s shoulder. 

He’s never been a good sleeper, even before he started dropping bombs. Now and then he rouses enough that he feels the phantom of his grandmother's fingers in his hair, gnarled from years of hard work and soft in their caress, brushing filthy strands off his forehead. It’s her spare crucifix around Solly’s neck. He thinks she would forgive him. He thinks she would find it a noble decision.

[boots-with-the-fur-club]

Chapter 3 of No Fun in Fungus!

@daboyau

@theawesomeninja-xd

@nights-flying-fox

@phoebepheebsphibs

Leo chokes and wheezes on the yellow cloud that infiltrates his lungs. There’s a dull ache in his plastron. It could be from his old injuries, but he was well aware of a possible other cause for the sensation.

Asthma.

Leo would experience most attacks after getting upper respiratory infections, which he had a lot when he was younger.

It was nothing compared to what Donnie went through though.

His immune system sucked and the cold sewer with polluted water did not help his case in the slightest.

More infections meant he needed an inhaler more times than Leo did.

He never asked Splinter how he got one that first time, but he always remembers the bloody bandage around his hand.

He also remembers the birthday he asked for his supply packs.

Dad sewed it together for him.

The contents of the pack changed a lot over the years, but there were three things that never did.

A pack of dinosaur bandaids for Mikey.

Raph’s epi pen.

Their inhaler.

Despite it being years since Donnie’s last attack, that inhaler was never going to missing.

Leo takes it out immediately. Donnie was right next to him before those things came, he couldn’t be far.

“Wretched little pest….”

The voice chills him down to his core.

It’s typically believed that there are several fs when it comes to reacting to fear.

The two most well known are fight or flight.

However, there’s also freeze and fawn.

Fawn would be when Mikey tells Raph he’s the best oldest brother in the world as he hides a broken teddy bear mug behind his back.

Freeze is when you spend an entire flight in an escape pod having a panic attack and can’t even move when you get back because you just left your brother to die.

How ironic is it that someone who can never stop talking can’t say a word when he’s truly terrified?

The face man, curled up in a ball like a pathetic-

Leo covers his ears.

Where were those thoughts coming from?

Were they even thoughts?

It sounded like someone was saying it directly to him.

He feels the immediate need to curl up, not move and hope that it makes it all go away.

Seeing the glowing red eye through the thick particles in the air only makes that feeling worse.

What is happening? How could he be here?

The clanging of metal on the ground in front of him seems to give him an a answer.

He doesn’t want to look at the item in front of him.

The ninpo created weapon he left in the prison dimension.

It should have stayed there, because if it’s here, then it let him come here too.

The laughter he hears nearly makes his heart stop.

“You thought you could escape me?”

Leo can’t stop the fearful tears pricking at his eyes, quietly mumbling no repeatedly.

“You allowed me to come back. As thanks, I’ll kill you last.”

Leo hates how the words he wants to say die in his throat.

“You can watch as I slaughter your siblings, as you took away mine!”

He can hear the sounds of metallic footsteps coming towards him.

Leo can almost see his life flashing before his eyes. It makes him wonder how this response to fear came about.

Why wasn’t he like Donnie who made those escape pods?

Why didn’t he use his skills like Mikey?

Why didn’t he fight like-…….

Raph.

That’s it.

If something truly scary was happening, it was Raph who protected him.

He could freeze up and Raph would be there to shield him from literally anything that would come his way.

Even if it was something impossible like giant freaking aliens with razor sharp tentacles.

Even if he hadn’t given him a good reason to want to protect him that day.

He was right next to him too before the spores came out.

Where was he now?

Leo wanted his big brother.

He screams out his name in fear as the mech that carries the main Kraang finally stands in front of him.

Just like that, Raph appears too.

Leo realizes he’s brought him right into danger and tries to warm him.

Raph kneels down and smiles at him widely.

“What’s the matter, Leo? Raph’s here, it’ll be okay.”

“D-Don’t you see him?”

“Everything is fine, Leo. I promise.”

Leo relaxes for a split second until blood splashes on his face.

Raph had been impaled where he almost had been before.

Leo’s throat begins to hurt, is he screaming again?

He can’t tell.

His face goes to the floor, body curling around himself and the inhaler still in his grip somehow.

The screaming from him is in fact happening, others could hear it even if he couldn’t.

Especially the real Raph.

After the spores had been sprayed and he couldn’t see his brothers, he thought he heard them further away.

He had no clue that the hallucinations could be auditory as well.

After rushing to where they might have been, the sounds got worse.

Donnie, Mikey, Leo, all begging for his help.

No matter where he went he couldn’t reach them.

“Guys! Where are you!?”

“Casey.”

Raph whips his head around.

“Leo?“ He swears he can hear Leo again.

“Listen to me. When I get to the other side, you close that door.”

Raph feels his stomach drop, bringing up his arm to confirm what the hallucinations are making him see and hear.

On his wrist is the device he couldn’t bring himself to wear ever again.

The one that let him hear Leo making a decision he never should have made.

The one that let him hear what that monster was doing to him.

He starts rushing back to the direction he previously left, hoping his brothers hadn’t moved.

The rushing becomes more urgent when he hears Leo scream his name.

He’s moving so fast he nearly trips over his own feet several times.

When he finally sees Leo, everything in front of him turns into a hell scape.

Leo is in front of him, bloodied, bruised, cracks on his plastron and shell, and looking absolutely terrified.

The Krang mech is standing over him.

Raph can’t be sure at all that this how it was in the prison dimension, maybe this was accurate or maybe it’s just how he imagined it was.

Just like he never mentioned what he saw, Leo always redirected what it was like in those moments before Mikey was able to save him.

All he knew is what he and everyone else heard.

Raph knows this is all fake, something to mess with his head.

That doesn’t make his guilt go away in the slightest.

He wasn’t there to stop him, protect him.

When Splinter made Leo leader Raph wasn’t upset or mad because he got replaced, he seriously could not care less who led who in terms of responsibility.

He was worried that it meant Leo would take the brunt of the hits, be the shield when that was supposed to be what Raph does.

Raph is huge, that’s obvious.

None of his brothers can ever tell how small they are to him. Not just in size, but….how can you forget that you used to hug them close because they were scared of the dark?

They run out of your arms and when that’s when you realize that there’s so many things way scarier than the dark.

You want to scoop them back up so they don’t run too far to keep close.

Leo had managed to go so far away.

The Krang mech hits Leo across the face, splattering blood on the floor.

He hears Leo scream bloody murderer, screams he wished never would come from any member of his family.

Raph feels something snap in his brain that is usually reserved just for his savage modes.

He powers up, creating a larger version of himself to clap its arms together. This forces the spores in the air to disburse and clears the area.

He then stares down the fake Krang and stomps it.

The hallucination loses its hold. When he lifts the foot back up there’s just the pole that Donnie gave Leo under it.

Leo flinches, slowly but shakily lifting up his head.

“N-No….not again….please….” He nearly whispers.

Raph reaches out to see if he was real.

Leo tears up heavily.

Raph can see the utter terror on his face.

“Let him go. Stop….stop doing this. He doesn’t deserve it! Why can’t you leave him alone….!?” Leo shouts hoarsely, his throat already rough.

Raph quickly stops with his other form, but

Leo suddenly stands up and grabs at his arms before he can say anything.

“Get off him! How dare you use his body for this!? Again!? Haven’t you done enough to him!? To me!?”

“Listen to me, it’s not real! Those spores are making us hallucinate.”

Leo’s eyes widen.

“It’s….fake….? I….I didn’t bring him back here? You’re….you’re not….?”

“I’m the real deal, I promise.”

Leo feels the adrenaline that kept him standing give out along with his legs.

Ralph keeps him steady, moving to pick him up.

“N-No….just….let me use your arm, please.”

“You’re not in good shape Leo…..I heard you screaming.”

Leo breathes shakily.

“I want to know I can still make myself move.”

Raph isn’t entirely sure he gets it, but there was no way he was going to deny him what he seemed to need because of that.

He nods and puts Leo’s arm around his own since his shoulder would be too up high to help.

“We need to find Donnie and Mikey.”

“Maybe you can explain everything as we walk….I am so lost right now.”

“Not anymore, Leo.”

Leo smiles faintly.

“I’m going to let that corny thing pass since I think we could both use that right now.”

Raph smiles back and walks with him.

When the spores had first erupted around them, Donnie felt his hand get grabbed.

He knew who it was by the texture of the hand right away.

Of course the size is another indicator, but Donnie focused a lot on how things feel.

Raph’s hand is rougher than everyone else’s, both because he often uses his fists and the fact he lifts weights which causes calluses.

Leo’s hand is the softest because of his use of gloves during their fights, and the incredibly long list of skin care products he owns.

Mikey’s hand usually has something else on it, chalk dust, or finger paint, or, one time, peanut butter, which made Donnie gag.

That’s the hand that pulled him away.

They moved fairly fast.

“Ugh, this smells like when we found that cheese dad was hoarding so it could age. Be careful Mikey, we could start hallucinating at any moment.” Donnie warns.

“Maybe if you could do more than spend your time on dumb inventions we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Donnie rips his hand out of his grip.

“You’re not-!….Am I trying to say something to a hallucination? Great, now I’m a cliché.”

Saying that other part out loud was also pointless, he knows.

He was basically talking to himself right now.

Those stupid invasive mushrooms were trying to turn baseless thoughts into tangible visions.

What he doesn’t understand is how and why it happened this way.

If it followed the pattern of what Mikey and Raph saw, he would see something he’s supposedly scared of relating to the Krang.

However, feeling and hearing shouldn’t have been part of it.

Had it been that case, what he did to help Raph wouldn’t have worked.

Was it the amount of spores? Was there a certain set of rules he wasn’t aware of?

He missed some variable, this is exactly why he hates when he’s missing data.

Donnie turns around to try to get back to where he was taken from.

“I can’t believe you chose those jerks over me.”

He’s taken aback by the new voice but tries to remind himself that it means nothing.

“It’s always about what you want. She makes fun of me and you join up with her just for a jacket? Do I really man less to you than a jacket…..?”

“That is not how I feel! She knows that!”

“Maybe…..maybe Donnie thinks we’re too dumb to be his brothers. He wishes we were like him.”

What? Mikey again?

“Are you kidding? I bet he wishes he was an only child. Donnie never cares about what we’re doing, he just waits to talk about what he’s doing.”

No, Raph wouldn’t say that!

He turns, only to see Leo right in front of him.

“Stop it! I know you’re not real!”

“Thanks for the advice, Donnie.”

“I didn’t give you any!”

“Sure you did. Back when Ghost Bear showed up. “Leo, sacrifice yourself? Buy us some time?” Does that ring any bells?”

Donnie freezes.

“I-It was a joke.”

“How about when I was supposed to protect you because I sell the least amount of toys?”

“Obviously another joke!”

“No, Donnie. It pushed me to do what had to be done. I’ll do it as many times as I need to.”

Donnie grits his teeth.

“No! You won’t! I’ll stop you!”

“Stop me? How? With another gift disguised as a way to tell me you hate me?”

“It was a real gift! I thought it would help!”

The shock collar suddenly appears on Leo.

“It’s a real pain in the neck, Dontron.”

It shocks him, making him writhe and scream in pain.

Donnie can’t help but scream as well.

[ryuichirou]

Replies

A lot of replies! A bunch about a Florid Prison Warden AU comic from yesterday, a couple about other fandoms, one about antis, a bunch of shippy stuff (Falena/Leona, Lilia/Silver), some spicy stuff etc.

Anonymous asked:

Prison Warden au is back!

Yes!! After almost a year... I am amazed that so many people remember this AU. Thank you...

Anonymous asked:

How long can Floyd possibly hide Riddle in his cell? Also, how did he knock him out to begin with?

Riddle is currently far away from the prison, he was knocked out pretty much for the entirety of Floyd’s escape and has no idea where he is. He is technically in a cell right now... but in a different kind of cell.

Knocking him out wasn’t that difficult, Floyd just went ahead and squeezed him very tightly~ Until Goldfishie fell asleep...

Anonymous asked:

So what will they do to Riddle now?

Anonymous asked:

So Riddle got kidnapped after Floyd escape? Now I wonder what happened.

Well, for now Riddle will stay at an undisclosed location in the middle of nowhere in some dark room, and Floyd will have to take care of him. How the turns have tabled, eh? Now Goldfishie is the one being locked up <3 These two will have a lot of fun during Riddle’s stay! And Riddle is going to end up being traumatised for sure...

But they probably won’t be able to keep him there forever, so who knows what will happen next?

Anonymous asked:

You have made Sukufushi art before??? Omg why was I not aware of this

Hehe yes!! It was ages ago, but I used to draw these two a lot. We didn’t post the majority of my jjk sketches though because we didn’t really post very often back then + didn’t think anyone really wanted to see them, which was kind of true lol

Anonymous asked:

I'm the one who asked about Bobobo.  It's a very silly, nonsensical, random show.  An evil empire is trying to make everyone bald and a man fights them with his armpit and nose hair.  There's also a guy who fights with farts.  It's been awhile since I watched it but I think there were a few serious, dark moments, though most of it's a lead up to a joke.  I wondered if you and Katsu would like it cause the reason I watched Gintama was cause it reminded me of it and iirc you've Gintama

Oh god, so it’s this kind of show (in a good way)!

Dark and heavy moments that are a lead up to a joke is honestly one of my favourite ways to treat comedy+drama, this is why we love Gintama so much (and also Osomatsu-san and also South Park lol). Bobobo really does sound like it has this same vibe.

I don’t know if we’ll watch it anytime soon, but I’ll definitely keep it in mind. Thank you, Anon!

Anonymous asked:

Regarding the sneezing HCs, do you think Malleus will spit fire and roast everything in front of him when he sneezes? Bro has pretty bad control over his magic after all LMAO

YES. THIS IS SUCH A GOOD POINT AND I DIDN’T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT.

Hoo boy, just imagine Malleus feeling like he is about to sneeze and Lilia running from the other side of the dorm to grab his nose because he knows it never ends well.

Anonymous asked:

About the response talking about antis, yeah it's hard for me to look for fics and fanart because I'll often run into antis...

I feel like part of it might be that they don't look at who a game is for or what genre it is apart from RPG/visual novel/ect, I don't think they know what joseimuke is (and I'm a still lil confused on the target audience of those as well, but I think it's mainly women with a disposable income?) and they think the target audience's age = casts' age, so since the cast is teens, then it's for teens by their logic...even though shows like South Park exist and I ain't showing that to a young kid.

I'd like to give them the benefit of the doubt that they genuinely think they're helping people/doing good things/ect since a lot of them aren't adults, but I can't.  I just can't get that impression from them at all.  The "nicest" I can be towards them is that they're young and dumb and will hopefully grow out of it or they need therapy but can't get it for some reason and this a kind of cry for help

Let’s be honest: if they weren’t dicks about it, no one would even care. We all understand that people don’t like some things, and all of us don’t like certain categories of people in our own fandoms, this is just a human experience. Minding your own business is what matters, and this is what they can’t do.

The majority of them are young and dumb, and a lot of them will grow out of it (or switch their aggression elsewhere because they’ll lost interest in fandom stuff) though. Some won’t, but there always are immature people that are much older... this is where they’re coming from lol

Maybe some of them really do believe that they’re doing the right thing and genuinely don’t know better, but I think for a lot of them finding a convincing enough reason to shit on others is the entire point of fandom experience. So even knowing what joseimuke is won’t stop them, only them losing interest and moving away from these spaces will.

All we can do is shrug and wait... and block people left and right lol

Anonymous asked:

What kind of hentais does Idia read or know of? Does he play eroges? If so what kind?

I think Idia knows every single hentai there is, even if he hadn’t read/watched/played all of them. Alright, maybe not every single one, but quite a lot lol But at the same time, he strikes me as someone who would be into it art-wise and would legit watch porn for the plot. So his favourite eroges are the ones with engaging stories and good character writing... I guess asking for that from a hentai game is a tall order, but Idia would argue and rant about some of his favourite titles if he was told “it’s just porn”. It’s not just porn, it’s an entire experience, the buildup that makes the porn good!

I know a part of me wants to say that he would play “oniichan” kinds of games, but I think he would ironically stay away from those... it feels weird to him somehow... too embarrassing.

He also doesn’t mind really fucked up tropes and scenarios. He could look at a tentacle hypnosis scene or a scene where someone is pushing out an alien egg and say “heh classic”. Truly, the greatest enjoyer of art.

Anonymous asked:

Hello! So I’ve been wondering of all the TWST tops, who’s winning the girth-and-length off?

Personally it could go either for Jack, Rook or Sebek. the Octatrio kind of cheats tho? their merform could pull these off easily.

anyway very curious to hear your thoughts!

Anon, this is such a good answer and I agree with you, even though I did write a post about peen sizes at some point, and I had a bit of a different top3 lol

To us, the winner is Lilia both because we are very committed to this joke + apparently for bats dick-to-body proportions are insane, so I guess there is some meat (heh) to this joke after all.

The second one was Floyd, and I still think the Tweels are one of the hugest, but... Jack and Sebek are absolutely up there, and I think they’ll grow bigger and girthier. They’ll become the biggest ones in a year or two.

I agree that Rook is big, but I think Trey is longer than Rook while still being quite girthy.

I am also 100% sure Yana has a list for this that we will never see...

Anonymous asked:

Firstly, I’m new to your blog and I LOVE YOUR ART AND HCS SO MUCH! They’re beautiful and amazing and it’s incredible seeing a blog being so unabashedly problematic with no shame!

That aside, I’m not sure if you ever talked about him before, but what do you think about Falena. Specifically for Falena/Leona?

I’ve seen some works (all super incredible, of course) of Faleleo stuff in Leona’s perspective, so I was wondering how do you think Falena would be like in the situation he’s loving his little brother a bit too much? We all know Leona’s gonna be a tsun about it but what about niisan?

Anon! First of all, welcome and I hope you enjoy your stay. Second of all, thank you so much for appreciating our stuff and being supportive of our self-indulgent selves! lol

We love Falena/Leona in theory; we haven’t dived into them because we haven’t seen much of Falena + don’t care much for Leona. Still, we are 100% supportive of this ship! Every time we rewatch The Lion King, I get more and more into Mufasa/Scar...

Regarding your question, it’s interesting because I think the default really is to think that it’s Leona who is obsessive over Falena, and Falena might not even have a clue about it (or have a clue but still choose to be a proper future king instead of fooling around with Leona). But it’s entirely possible for him to also be very into Leona, it could even be more fun this way.

I feel like Falena has always been an adoring brother and Leona greatly underestimates just how much Falena loves him. Not only he worries about his future and cares about him (that’s a given), he also is genuinely impressed by his wit and intelligence; I wouldn’t be surprised if Falena talks about Leona all the time lol Maybe he gets as excited as Cheka sometimes, which is endearing at first, but then feels like Falena is um... a bit too much into him...

Falena also feels like someone who would rationalise his feeling by thinking that him being a king and having a wife and a son is one thing, but being with Leona is another thing, their private special thing that could actually still improve things for the entire Kingdom: if Leona is by his side and works together with him, they will be unstoppable. This is something that Falena wants the most... even if it’s just a way to justify his desire to have access to Leona (and his body) all the time. He needs to give Leona some attention, right? He wasn’t able to do it lately, right? This has to change.

I also wouldn’t be surprised if they had a bunch of “iffy” moments when they were younger. A sudden closeness during sparring, a hug that lasted longer than anticipated, a bite that was meant to be playfully teasing but ended up being too sensual and dominating. That tension existed for a very long time, and it only gets stronger with time.

Anonymous asked:

God... I am enraptured by Them. Completely obsessed with those first days Lilia started playing with Silver. You think he went slow with touches and inappropriate kisses, or just one day told him they're doing something new and put his whole dick inside him at once??? Silver couldn't have gotten so good at handling anything without trial and error... Have there been times Lilia overestimated him and left him overwhelmed and SOBBING sobbing, like he had to stop immediately or his kid wouldn't be the same person again kind of overwhelmed. Ughhhh I'm obsessed with them and their awful history

Anon, I am so happy you like these two this much. I feel like this awful history is such an obvious but tasty and amazingly working trope for them, it just works.

I guess it’s fair to say that Lilia went slow with his inappropriate behaviour, I honestly think that Silver didn’t even notice the switch, as if it was never there. He’s always been his father’s cute boy. Of course it’s just the way he remembers things... But he does remember the first time he had Lilia’s whole dick inside him!

But also yes, of course there had been a bunch of times when Lilia got too excited and overdid it with Silver. Even though Lilia did try to pace himself, I think he completely broke Silver all over like 10 times; and sometimes he is amazed that he turned out okay with what he went through. But he got better very fast! A miracle of true love <3

[aemiron-main]

creelarke and the tunnel scene

So, I’m working on more analysis posts about these two, but this parallel caught my eye today:

They put Scott and Henry in the same place on screen right during their respective lab tunnel scenes- scott and henry are both on screen left when looking at the scene from outside the tunnel, and both are on the same part of screen right when looking at the scene from inside the tunnel.

Scott was also the one who found the piece of hospital gown near the tunnel:

They could’ve chosen any character for this scene- but they chose Scott. Scott, who canonically went to school at the same time as Henry, who happens to have a convenient knowledge of parallel dimensions.

And speaking of the lab- why the hell are there multiple lab-associated extras who look eerily similar to Scott?

There’s also just. Something gnawing at me about the way that Scott stares towards the lab in this shot:

I know part of it is likely due to him possibly having suspicions of Will being in the lab/going through the tunnel, but it’s interesting that they chose to focus on Scott for this shot rather than Hopper in that regard. Almost like it’s about more than Will. Almost like he’s remembering something- or someone.

And also, going back to the fact that Scott and Henry would’ve gone to school together, take a look at this conversation between Scott and Hopper during the search party scene:

They’re talking about shared classes/teachers, (even though hopper and scott didn't go to school in the same years, they seem to have went to the same school And henry and scott Did go to school in the same yars) and also talking about a dead child (Sara)- Henry and Scott would’ve had shared classes, hell, Henry likely had Ms Ratliff specifically, AND, Henry was pronounced dead on site to the public after the Creel murders, even though Victor was somehow made aware of Henry’s coma and that Henry “died,” a week later, when you look at the newspaper articles, it’s said that Henry’s body was found at the Creel house with his eyes gouged out and that Victor was immediately charged with three murders. The public believed that Henry was killed the night of the Creel murders, but what about Scott? What did Scott believe? If him and Henry were friends, did he ever try and visit Victor in prison? Did he think Victor killed Henry? Did he somehow hear about the coma thing the same way that Victor did?

And speaking of bad teachers, not only do we have confirmation that Scott had a bad teacher, but we have the same for Henry, with a teacher calling him "broken".

And also, during that scene, Hopper has his “mummies never die,” line- just like how Henry isn’t dead and likely CAN’T die because of his regenerative healing.

And also “I never needed to look elsewhere.”

“I just didn’t look hard enough.”

Like. The fact that Max frames it as if she disappeared, even though she WAS still physically there, just emotionally distant from Lucas- it’s giving me “Henry disappearing” vibes with the Creel murders, especially considering the Will-Henry parallels and how Mike notices that Will didn’t show up to school on the day that he vanished. I wonder if Scott noticed something similar with Henry.

I wonder if part of why Scott’s helping search for Will is because he had suspicions that Henry wasn’t dead, but never followed through on those suspicions enough/didn’t look hard enough for Henry. Much like how Hopper felt like he didn’t need to look elsewhere. Maybe Scott was so focused on the Creel houses and the weirdness going on there and investigating THAT (after all, it looks like quite a few objects have been moved around in the Creel house since we last saw its interior in 1959) that he didn't even think about the lab/didn't think to look elsewhere.

And then we also have this scene of Scott finding out that Sara was actually dead- the opposite of Henry. Scott was led to believe that Sara was alive but then found out that she was dead, whereas Scott would’ve been led to believe that Henry was dead, but may have somehow figured out that he’s alive/may figure it out in S5.

That last shot where it focuses on Scott is especially interesting to me, because why focus on Scott? Scott and Hopper aren't particularly close, it's not a particularly huge revelation that someone (Hopper) might lie to someone he doesn't know very well (scott, they don't know eachother well, scott introduces himself initially and says he doesn't think they've met before) about his traumatic past/loss of his daughter, so why focus on Scott and his reaction? Why not focus on Hopper and the grief he's feeling in that moment? I think it might be because there's subtext here regarding Sara's death vs Henry's death and Scott having known Henry- and Scott may have been in denial of Henry's death initially because he noticed that things were odd about the Creel murders (the newspapers all have conflicting details, for example), but didn't look hard to resolve it/find Henry, much like how Hopper is in denial of Sara's death, and is now motivated to search for Will (we see Sara mentioned by Joyce in the context of trying to get Hopper to search more for Wiil).

Either way, I just think it’s interesting that we get a scene of Scott and Hopper talking about shared classes and dead children (especially lies about dead children) before a scene of Scott and Henry paralleling eachother. Especially considering the parallels between Will and Henry but also Sara and Henry and Sara's cancer and how Henry's regenerative healing seems to work like cancer. Much to think about. Creelarke real, I can feel it in my bones.

[jinxquickfoot]

@badthingshappenbingo prompt: Hostage Situation

Find the fic on Ao3!

“Does anyone have eyes on the target?”

Clint rounds the corner of the abandoned office building, bow at the ready. “I’m catching up to her.”

Phil’s sigh over the comms is so loud he can practically see it. “Barton, you’re meant to be on lookout.”

“I am. I’m looking out for our target.” Clint peers past his arrow down the dark corridor. The path forward is suspiciously empty, even though he swears he saw his quarry take this route. He presses forward, poking his head into the various side rooms. There are no cornered weapons dealers to be found. Yet. “She’s good.”

“Yes, she is, which is why we sent the entire STRIKE team after her.”

“Funny, I’m not seeing any of the STRIKE guys in the right position.”

“You’re the one who’s not in position, Barton.” Phil’s voice is more exasperated than angry. “You know I went on the record saying you could learn to play ball, right?”

“Hey, I can play ball.” Clint finishes his search of the corridor and turns left into an equally empty set of side rooms. Huh. Mills is good. Very few people are able to vanish on him like this. Not to mention that she’s stayed off SHIELD’s radar almost as long as he had managed by now. Every day he’s grateful Phil gave him a shot (ha) to be here, but he’s not particularly keen on letting Mills break his record. “I’m about to catch the target SHIELD has been chasing for months. How’s that for playing ball?”

He’s been with SHIELD for just over a year now, and every single day has been a battle to prove he belongs here. Phil had plucked him out of Sing Sing after Clint had finally managed to put Jacque Duquesne in the ground, offering him a job instead of a life sentence. Clint still doesn’t entirely know why. He does know that he’s not going to blow the first chance someone’s given him at a halfway decent life.

“No,” he’d told Phil when he’d first offered him a position at SHIELD.

Phil gestured at the chains encircling his wrists and ankles. “You’d rather stay in prison forever?”

Clint shrugged, ignoring the way it made the metal constraining him clink. “Three square meals a day and a roof over my head? I’ve had worse.”

“I’m aware. Are you aware you could have better?”

“What you’re offering isn’t better.”

“What do you think I’m offering?”

“A chance to kill a lot more people in exchange for something you’re trying to pass off as freedom. I’m not doing it.”

Phil leaned back in the rigid visitor’s chair, his face unreadable. Clint wasn’t a fan of that. His people skills from a life bouncing around foster homes, the streets and a circus weren’t top-notch, but he’d like to think he’d know by now when someone was playing him. Emphasis on he’d like to. Duquesne had strung him along for far too many years before Clint put an arrow in his heart.

“If you joined SHIELD, you would be expected to kill when necessary,” Phil stated. “But only very specific targets.”

“Still targets.”

“You seem very adverse to killing for a man serving a life sentence for murder.”

“He deserved it.”

“Any regrets?”

Clint let his lips form a cold smile. “None. World’s better off without him.”

“And what if I could offer you not only a way out of this prison, but a chance at taking out more Duquesnes?”

“I’d still tell you no.”

“Explain that to me.”

“Because I don’t want to.”

He had expected Phil to leave after that. Instead, he seemed to have handed the man the exact answer he’d been looking for. “Good,” Phil had said shortly. “We try to avoid hiring the murderous type. I can’t promise you’ll never have to kill again, but I can promise that if you join us, you’ll have a chance to do good.”

Phil had looked him straight in the eye as he finished, “And despite what your rap sheet says, I think you’re the kind of person who wants to do good, Clint Barton.”

If only the rest of SHIELD had decided to believe in him as easily. Getting Mills in his clutches would be the feather in his cap that might finally get the STRIKE team to lay off him. Just because he didn’t go to their stupid academy, they assume he can’t be one of them. Phil’s done what he can to get them to back off, but Clint’s not going to hide behind his coattails forever. Phil gave him a chance. He’s not wasting it. 

There’s a rustle over the comms, as though Phil’s changing locations. His next words are a murmur. “You have nothing to prove, Clint. You became a SHIELD agent the moment you accepted my offer.”

The way Phil seems to read his mind sometimes is downright unsettling. Clint’s spent his life building masks that no one is supposed to see underneath. Then again, maybe no one’s really tried before. “That sentiment isn’t universal.”

“So not everyone has been entirely welcoming, given your past. We’re working on that. But you do have a place at SHIELD as long as you want one. Unless you start doing stupid shit like defying orders.”

“I like to think more in implied orders. Like ‘catch Mills’.”

“Your orders were to be on lookout. You want to prove yourself? Do it by showing Fury you’re a team player.”

“Sorry, Sir. Don’t really see myself as a part of a team anytime—”

He doesn’t hear her until the click of a safety is taken off a gun. Clint freezes, nocked arrow pointed uselessly at a cobweb-infested fax machine.

“Barton.” The worry in Phil’s steady voice wouldn’t be apparent to most people. Maybe that mind-reading thing goes two ways. “Barton, come in.”

“Put the bow down,” a female voice says behind him. “If you try pointing that arrow at me, I’ll shoot you. I’m fast enough to kill you first.”

“I believe you.” Still, Clint doesn’t move. Disobeying orders and bringing in a target single-handedly is hero stuff. Disobeying orders and getting shot for it is just embarrassing.

“Put it down,” Mills repeats slowly. “Last warning.”

“She’s there,” Phil surmises. Definitely worried. It’s almost nice. It’s been a long time since Clint can confidently say anyone has worried about him. “Stay where you are, stay alive. We’re coming to get you.”

Great, and now he’s the damsel in distress. As much as it soothes a long-buried ache knowing that Phil actually cares whether he makes it home or not, that does not extend to actually wanting to be rescued. Knowing it’s a stupid move, and deciding to do it anyway, Clint whips the bow around.

The gunshot is enough to deafen him as pain explodes in his left leg. He keeps his grip on his arrow though, he doesn’t need much to fire it into an enemy this close, it will be a matter of a second to pull it back and release—

Then he gets a good look at Mills for the first time.

Phil is demanding updates in his ear, but Clint’s frozen, unable to focus on anything but the round belly right in his face. There had been months of reconnaissance on Mills, and yet somehow all of SHIELD had failed to report that she was pregnant.

“Really?” The belly shifts and Clint’s view transforms into a gun barrel. There’s blood running down his leg, the wound hot and aching, but he’s still on his feet. Must just be a graze then. Small mercies. “You’d kill me for some minor weapons trading, but as soon as there’s a fetus in the picture you go soft?”

Clint finds his voice. “Minor weapons trading. That’s what you’re going with?” He lifts his eyes to her face. She’s all hard lines, worn down from exhaustion and stress, but still… prettier than her mug shots made her out to be. Not the right kinds of thoughts to be having when there’s still a gun directed at his forehead.

“Bow. Down.” Mills brandishes that gun, even as she makes sure to keep well out of Clint’s range. “Who the hell takes a bow and arrow into a shootout, anyways?”

“Me,” Clint answers, placing the bow and unused arrow on the floor. His quiver follows. “Clint Barton. Hawkeye. Nice to meet you.”

She’s thoroughly unimpressed. “Kick them away.”

Wincing, Clint boots his bow down the corridor. It won’t damage it, the weapon is built for battle, but it had been a gift from Phil for his one-year SHIELD anniversary. Clint’s not a fan of punting it like a soccer ball.

“Gun too,” Mills orders.

That goes with less remorse. The STRIKE team likes to rib him for how little Clint pulls his gun on missions, but their bullets aren’t multipurpose or reusable. There’s been many a shootout where Clint’s the last one with ammo, as long as he’s willing to retrieve the arrows during said shootout. Maybe he should invent one that comes back.

“Now the knives. Both of them.”

And maybe he should focus on the armed woman in front of him.

The blades are thrown away with more hesitation, first the one in his belt and then the one tucked into the compartment in his boot. He’s not the best at hand-to-hand combat and he isn’t given much opportunity to practice as SHIELD’s top sniper, but he can do some serious damage with a knife if the enemy is stupid enough to get close. So far, Mills definitely doesn’t fall into the stupid enemy category.

As soon as he’s disarmed she holds out her hand, snapping her fingers at him when he hesitates. “Comms.”

With a heavy sigh, Clint forks over his earpiece. He is never, ever going to hear the end of this. For all Phil’s words of always having a place at SHIELD, he can’t help but wonder if getting captured because he disobeyed his SO’s direct orders is grounds for dismissal. A streak of fear goes through him at the idea. Most SHIELD agents who get thrown out on their asses sign a ten-mile-long NDA and go and live a boring, middle-class life. Clint knows he hasn’t won enough of Fury’s trust to be offered that option. It’ll be back to Sing Sing, this time for good.

A year ago, the idea of that wouldn’t have bothered Clint so much. He’d picked enough fights when he’d first been arrested that the rest of the prison had learned to leave him alone. The shitty bed and food were still a step up from sleeping on the streets. And he didn’t have to watch over his shoulder every moment in case one of Duquesne’s lackeys decided to take the former crime lord’s place.

But now… he has his own apartment. It’s a shithole in Bed-Stuy, but it’s private and it’s his. For the first time, he’s using his skills to do good. He likes that. He likes that a lot.

And he has Phil. The first person in his entire life who had looked at him and seen something more than a circus brat with a knack for sticking arrows in people. He’s not entirely sure that relationship is going to last if Clint gets himself kicked out of SHIELD after Phil stuck his neck out for him.

Mills shoves the earpiece into place. “Who am I talking to?” She flicks her eyes up and down Clint as she says it, assessing him. “Well, Agent Coulson, how much is your man worth to you?”

Clint would like to believe that answer is at least enough to warrant a negotiation. He also knows he got himself into this and Phil will abide by SHIELD protocol until the end.

Something like surprise crosses Mills’s face. “Really? Didn’t think SHIELD would care.” She raises the gun so it’s pointed right between Clint’s eyes, but some of her attention is on Phil now. He could probably lunge forward and take it without getting shot a second time, wrest it from her hand and take her down. He could still salvage this.

He… doesn’t.

He can’t put a finger on why. He just knows that it’s the same instinct that aims his bow, whispering directions he can never quite explain but will always guide him to the bullseye.

Mills is demanding something about clearing the path and getting her a vehicle. Good luck. Phil might be able to pull enough strings to stop her from shooting Clint point-blank, but they’re not going to let her run. Not after what happened in Miami.

Phil must say as much, because Mills’s eyes narrow. “Fine.”

There’s a scattering of syllables from Phil’s end, too muted for Clint to make out from this far away. 

“No,” Mills snaps. “You can talk to him after you figure out how to get me what I want. If I see a single SHIELD agent in this building, I’ll kill him.” She flourishes the gun, indicating the office closest to them. “Get in.”

“You’re wasting time,” Clint tries. It’s the least he can do. “If you run, I won’t stop you. They’re not going to bargain for me.”

“That guy on your comms sounded like he would. Now get in the damn office and maybe I’ll let you patch up your leg.”

Right. He’s bleeding. Clint allows himself to peek at the injury. It’s hard to see through his pant leg, but he doesn’t think the graze is that deep. Still, blood loss is blood loss, and he needs to get pressure on it sooner rather than later. “Fine. Step into my office.”

He limps his way in, playing it up. He doesn’t really think Mills buys it, but he’ll take whatever advantage he can get until he can disarm her. If he wants to disarm her. That little voice is niggling at him, telling him there’s a better way here. No STRIKE team is invading the building, which means he’s at least important enough that the threat of his death is keeping them temporarily at bay. Emphasis on the temporarily. If there’s a way out of this that doesn’t end in bloodshed, he’s going to have to find it fast.

He props himself against the dusty desk, ripping away the bottom half of his ruined uniform pants to use as makeshift bandages. The wound probably needs stitches, but he doubts Mills is going to go needle-hunting on his request. “You should sit. I feel like I should be offering you my seat on a bus.”

She snorts, unimpressed. “Don’t do the I care about you act.”

“In training we call it the humanise the hostage act. Speaking of, I’m Clint.”

“You said. I don’t care.”

“Can I call you Laura?”

“No.”

“Well, I’m going to. Get used to it.”

Laura jerks the blinds down over the window, even though it would be a hell of a shot for a sniper to make given the angle of the other buildings. The one person who could pull it off is on the wrong side of the glass. It plunges them into semi-darkness, the cracks of sunlight through the closed blinds casting rows on the dust-laden carpet.

A heavy silence falls between them. The striped light casts Laura’s face in golden streaks, her grip on the gun not wavering. Not that that matters. Clint’s not going to take it from her. She’s going to put it down. He doesn’t know why he’s so sure. He just knows that, if he plays this exactly right, he can save a life today instead of ending one.

He likes that idea. Too much, maybe. It’s the kind of thought that gets agents in the field killed. 

It’s also the kind of thought that got Phil on his side.

“I’d hate working an office job,” he remarks, trailing a finger through the dust. “I think I actually have a desk somewhere at HQ. People keep sending paperwork there. Or so I’m told. I don’t do much paperwork.”

“I told you to cut that out.” She glances at the door, as though wondering if she can barricade it without lowering her gun. She seems to decide she can’t, because she goes with another tactic. “Take out your cuffs.” 

He’d seen this coming, but a part of him was still hoping Laura would skip the whole tie up the captive step. He doesn’t take his gaze off her as he pulls a zip tie from his belt and goes to place it around his wrists.

“No,” she stops him. “Tie yourself to the desk. And thread it between your wrists as well as around.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He does as he’s told, distantly wondering if he should be more on edge about the situation. He tells himself it’s because they both know that, if she shoots him, she’s as good as dead. She might be as good as dead anyway. Laura’s good, they wouldn’t have been chasing her for this long if she wasn’t, but there aren’t many people in the world who are able to get past SHIELD’s entire STRIKE team. He doubts she's the exception, pregnant or not. STRIKE do what they’re trained to do, and STRIKE are trained to shoot on sight.

He pulls the zip tie tight with his teeth, locking his wrists around the desk leg. He’s pretty sure he can get out of it—it’s doing so before Laura pulls the trigger that will be the trick. He can’t dodge bullets. Which leaves that talking option.“So, how far along are you? Seven months? Eight?”

She casts him a disparaging look. “Stop pretending to care about me. You don’t. Just like I don’t care if you’re breathing beyond keeping your friends off my back.”

Clint shifts, trying to get comfortable, grimacing when it pulls on his injured leg. “Well, I’m not seeing a TV in here. If you want any form of entertainment while we wait for either your car to show up or the cavalry to ride in, I’m it.”

“And what if I don’t find you entertaining?”

“Give me a chance. Circus audiences loved me.”

She gives him a look as though she’s not sure if he’s joking or crazy. It’s a common response whenever he utters the word circus.

“Please sit,” Clint tries. “I’m not going to try anything. I’m tied up, you have the gun. You’re making my feet ache just looking at you.”

“Stop—”

“Pretending to care, I know.”

She exhales, exhaustion starting to show through the cracks. “You could have just left me alone.”

“That’s not my call.”

Laura scrubs at her forehead. Definitely exhausted. Life on the run will do that to you. Clint’s well aware, and that was without a baby growing inside of him.

“Laura. Sit down. It’s okay.”

For a moment, he’s sure she’s going to snap at him again. Then, slowly, and never taking her eyes off Clint, she sinks to the floor. A sigh of relief leaves her as she sticks her feet out straight, the hand not holding the gun cradling her stomach. It’s kind of…

Don’t call the person holding you hostage cute, Barton, he can basically hear Phil scolding him. Ah futz, Phil. This is his mission too. He’s probably going to get into even more trouble for it going sideways than Clint. Clint will make it up to him later.

“So,” he breaks the silence. “What’s the plan? You have to know that car isn’t coming.”

“You’re not going to shut up, are you?”

“Don’t feel like it.”

“What if I shoot you again?”

“If STRIKE hears a gunshot, they’re coming in. But you know that.”

Sighing, Laura lays the gun aside. It’s still well within her reach, but at least it’s not pointed in his direction anymore. “You want to talk. Fine, we’ll talk.”

“Great. What’s your favorite color?”

She stares at him like he’s an idiot. Which… well, he’s zip-tied to a desk with his bow in a different room. Maybe that’s fair enough. “What?”

“I’m making conversation. Mine’s purple. Your turn to ask a question.”

“Sure. How did you find me?”

“That’s not how the game works.”

“I’m the one with the gun, and I say that’s exactly how it works. How did you find me? I’ve been so careful.”

Clint drops the joking tone. “I wouldn’t count what happened in Miami as careful.”

She glares at him. “You don’t know shit about Miami.”

Clint shrugs as much as he can with his wrists zip-tied. “I know fourteen people died.”

She transfers her gaze back to the door. No one is pounding on it with a battering ram yet. They’ve got time. “Fourteen,” she muses.

“You didn’t know?”

“Not the exact total, no. Honestly, it’s less than I feared.”

“Still fourteen people.”

Her expression hardens. “And as I said—you don’t know shit.”

“Tell me, then.”

Laura shakes her head. “No. I don’t snitch.”

“What if I promise not to tell?”

“Really? You’re the best SHIELD had to send after me?”

He gives her the crooked grin that gets him second dessert in the SHIELD cafeteria. “You haven’t shot me yet. I count that as success.”

“I have shot you.”

He checks his leg. “Hardly. Can’t even tell that’s a bullet wound.” There’s the ghost of an idea there that he tucks away for later. “Okay, so success is you not shooting me twice.” 

“Because I need you, idiot.”

“For now. But if you’re thinking about marching us outside with a gun to my head, you’re just going to get us both shot. Don’t know about you, but I’d prefer to avoid that.”

“What’s the alternative? Turn myself in?”

“\Surely that’s better than getting shot.”

Her hand flutters around her stomach. “I can’t get caught. I can’t.”

A distress leaks through the words that Clint knows all too well. It had been a long internal battle when he’d realized that killing someone as high-profile as Duquesne would propel him right to the top of SHIELD’s Most Wanted List. He’d spent multiple nights unable to sleep as he’d let any hope of a normal life slip away from him. Still, Duquesne had to go. Even if Clint had spent the rest of his life behind bars, it would have been a fair price for ridding the world of that monster.

“You don’t snitch, huh?” Clint tries to ignore the already growing ache in his shoulders, the burn in his thigh. “And is that because you care about someone, or because you’re scared of someone?”

Her expression hardens, but the way her hand tightens over her stomach gives her away.

“The father,” Clint guesses. “So is it the caring or the scaring option?”

Laura’s response is to point the gun in his face. “Shut up, or I’m going to drop you and take my chances sneaking out of here.”

“You have to know those chances are pretty much zero. You’re good enough to know that.”

She huffs. “Not good enough to not end up here in the first place, apparently.” The gun lowers a fraction as she surveys him, the door, the window. Clint’s all too familiar with the sensation of being cornered with no good options. “Damn. You lot are really going to shoot me, aren’t you?”

“Not if you—”

“Don’t say turn myself in. I already told you. I don’t snitch.”

“Because you think you’ll get hurt. We can stop that from happening. You’re not the first SHIELD agent who’s changed sides, you know.”

It’s a misstep. Her face hardens, her expression shuttering. “The only side I’m on is my own.” She pulls out Clint’s comm. “Agent Coulson. Are you listening?” 

Clint tries to keep his face neutral. SHIELD protocol for hostage situations is to keep yourself alive and then stay out of the way if rescue comes. Phil must be trying for a non-lethal route, but he doubts STRIKE is going to prioritize his safety when they get the order to storm the building. 

He doesn’t want to get shot. He doesn’t want to watch a woman and an unborn baby get shot either. And also… something else. That whisper in his ear, telling him to keep talking. To keep trying.

Laura listens for a long time, far longer than she listened to Clint. Phil’s got that knack. He’s been using it on Clint for the better part of the last year, slowly and patiently dismantling his walls to gain his trust. 

“Then get me a vehicle,” Laura says, and Clint’s not imagining the undertone of desperation in her voice. “I just want out.”

I just want out. Clint’s been there. Too many times. He’d spent years trying to get out from under Duquesne’s thumb, until he realized the only way to ever be free of him was to end his life. Duquesne had made him a weapon. Seemed only fair that was the weapon he should die by.

“No. You’re going to get me a vehicle,” Laura insists. “You’ll get your man back and you’ll never hear from me again.”

He knows Phil can’t agree to that. Which means that shootout is looking more and more likely unless Clint can get this talking thing to work. 

Phil speaks for a little longer before there’s a long pause, Laura seeming to consider something. “Fine,” she decides, then pulls the comm out of her ear. “He wants to talk to you. Try anything and I’ll shoot you in the other leg.”

“Noted. But, um…” Clint twists his wrists in the ties. “Gonna need some help.”

She spends a few moments weighing options, before placing the gun on the ground, well on the other side of the office before making her way over to him. Smart. Zip-tied or not, Clint would have found a way to take it.

There’s an odd moment of intimacy as she eases the comms into his ear. Her brown hair swings forward, brushing his cheek, her hands warm against his face. Then she’s gone, backing away across the room to scoop the gun up again.

"My plan to play ball seems to have backfired.”

“I noticed. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

Clint swallows back the automatic I’m not. Even a year on, he has to remind himself that Phil asks that question out of concern, not reproach. “A graze to the leg, but nothing else. Don’t send in STRIKE yet.”

Laura is carefully watching every word, her eyes narrowing when he mentions keeping STRIKE at bay.

“I’m trying to hold them off but they want Mills off the streets. ”

More than they want to protect you, is left unsaid. “I got this.”

“Barton—”

“Phil. I got this. Just buy me as much time as you can.”

There’s a long pause on the other end of the comms. “Alright,” Phil says finally. “Do what you have to.”

“That’s enough.” Laura replaces the gun well out of reach, honest-to-god waddling across the room to yank the comms piece out of his ear.

“You’re not going to give birth in here, are you?” he asks. “You look like you’re going to pop any second.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m being charming.”

“That’s a matter of opinion.” She does immediately sit back down though, wincing as she does so. “And don’t even think about it.”

“Don’t think about what?”

“Using the baby as leverage. Tell me you’ll give him a good home or whatever if I give myself up. As if I’d believe that.”

“I wasn’t planning to. I did my time in foster homes. Wouldn’t wish it on anyone.” One of his legs is falling asleep, but he doesn’t want to spook Laura further by moving it. “So it’s a him.”

“Maybe.”

“You picked a name yet?”

“As if I’d tell you.”

Screw it, Clint’s not sitting here with dwindling blood circulation. As slowly as possible, he slides the offending leg out in front of him. Laura stiffens anyway, watching his every move. “What? I hate pins and needles.”

“Pins and needles.”

“Yeah, it's what happens when someone ties you to a desk. Hey, why do you think it’s called that? The feeling is more fuzzy than stabby.”

Laura is giving him that you idiot look again. “Are you actually a SHIELD agent?”

“Last time I checked.”

“You don’t act like one.”

“Is that an insult?”

“It’s an observation.”

“I’m new. Kind of.”

“From the circus.” She doesn’t sound like she believes that part.

“There was an extended gap between the circus and SHIELD.”

“Doing what? Birthday parties?”

So, she has a sense of humor. Good to know. “Criminal things.”

She huffs. “Don’t make shit up to relate to me.”

“I’m not. Scout’s honor.”

“You were a Scout?”

“Nope. Can tie really good knots, though.”

She eyes him, cautious. “SHIELD doesn’t hire criminals.”

He gestures at himself the best he can. “Meet the exception to the rule.”

“Why?”

Clint shrugs. “Got lucky. Met the right person.” 

“That guy on the comms. Coulson.” Laura settles against the back wall, contemplating. “How much authority does he have?”

“Not enough to call off the dogs if you march us out there. I already told you that’s not going to end well. But he will hear you out, if you can give us information about who you were working with.”

“I’d be signing my death warrant if I talked.”

“You’re signing your death warrant if you stay in here. Make a deal, Laura. We can protect you.”

“You really can’t.”

“Try us.”

She cups her belly with both hands. “I’m not falling for this act.”

“No act. Just trying to find the best outcome for everyone. My life is on the line too, remember.”

She weighs that. “You want me to trust the people who would let one of their own die?”

“If they think taking you down is going to save a lot of lives, then they have their orders.” Even as he says it, he feels a thread fraying in her story. He risks giving it a hefty tug. “You didn’t work Miami alone, did you?”

It’s so brief that Clint almost misses it. A flicker of emotion somewhere between regret and anger passes over Laura’s face, before it’s lost to the gloom of the abandoned office. “You don’t know anything about me. Stop guessing.”

Clint does exactly the opposite. “The kid’s father. He was involved. Much more than you were.”

“Guessing,” she fires back at him, but the way her hands clench gives her away.

He continues to tug on that thread. “You didn’t answer my caring or scaring question. Either he set you up, or you’re taking the fall to protect him.”

Laura’s fingernails bite deeper into her palms. “Does it matter?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“How you want this day to end.”

She doesn’t look at him. “And if I wanted it to end with me on a farm in the middle of nowhere where no one would ever find me? What would you say then?”

Clint shifts again, trying to renew the blood flow in his wrists this time. “That I know that feeling. I know that feeling extremely well.”

“Yeah?” she challenges him. “So why aren’t you in a farmhouse?”

He decides to tell the truth. “Because SHIELD’s keeping too close an eye on me to pull a runner. And because even if they weren’t, I like being here. I like helping people.”

“SHIELD doesn’t help people.”

“Some of us do.”

She laughs. It’s distractingly pretty. “God, you are such a man. Poor defenseless pregnant woman—she must need a savior.”

There’s something in that line he feels he can use. He prepares to dig. “Trust me, I see you as anything but defenseless.”

“Because I have the gun?”

“Because I’ve read your file. I’ve seen what you’ve done. Including shipping a lot of shoddy weapons through a Miami warehouse that detonated on arrival. The warehouse workers didn’t even know what they were handling.”

She coils tighter with every word. “It was an accident.”

He keeps digging. “I doubt that was much comfort to their families.” 

“Stop trying to play me. I see what you’re doing.”

“What am I doing?”

“Making me feel guilty so I surrender. This isn’t amateur hour.”

“No, it’s not.” He drives that shovel down, crossing his fingers that he’s about to hit gold. “And I can’t make you feel guilty. Because you didn’t do it.”

She tries to play it off, but the tightening in the back of her shoulders gives her away. “That’s not what your precious file on me says.”

“Because you made it look like you did it. To protect someone else.” Her eyes pinch. There’s that gold. “So it is scaring. Not caring.”

“Stop. Guessing.”

“Poor defenseless pregnant woman. Those are his words, aren’t they? He thought they’d go easier on you than him. He made you take the fall.”

“Guessing.”

“But I’m right. Aren’t I?”

She sweeps her eyes up and down him as though reappraising. “Maybe you are a real SHIELD agent.”

“So I am right.”

She refuses to confirm it. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m going down either way.”

“Not if you give him up. We can protect you.”

“As if I’d trust SHIELD with protecting my child.”

“Better us than no one.” He makes a show of leaning forward in earnest, even though it’s just to get him in a better position to slip the zip-ties if he needs to. He’s daring to hope that he won’t. “Tell us who he is. We’ll get him.”

“No. You won’t.”

“We will. Then at least that baby will have one parent around.”

“He’s not the father.” Laura still isn’t looking at him. “The father’s dead. It was a reminder of what happens when I don’t…” She breaks off, squeezing her eyes shut. “He controls my whole life. Everything. There isn’t a way out.”

“There is,” Clint says softly. “Because someone offered it to me. Because someone decided to look past what the damn SHIELD file said and treated me like a human being. Because someone offered me the chance to do some good with my life.”

He’s so close. He can feel it. And he knows exactly what words he needs to seal the deal. “And I think you’re the kind of person who wants to do good, Laura Mills.”

The sun is sinking outside the office window. His heart is pounding so loud that he’s surprised Laura can’t hear it. Then again, maybe she can. Maybe, for once, he can offer someone a happy ending instead of a grave.

He lets her break the silence first. “Did yours have a stupid villain name as well?”

“You bet. The Swordsman.”

Laura snorts. “Sword versus arrow? Wow.”

“Arrow won.”

She nods, her gaze distant. She hasn’t picked up the gun again. “Mine goes by Kingpin.”

Clint files that away. “We don’t have anyone by that name on SHIELD’s radar.”

“And he’s going to kill me for putting him on it. I can’t escape him.”

“I used to think the same thing. And now he’s gone. Want me to put an arrow in yours, too?”

“Can you?”

Clint considers that. He’d meant what he said when he’d told Phil a year ago that he wanted to be done with killing. And Phil had kept his end of the bargain by only sending Clint after the targets they couldn’t take down any other way.

“If you give me the information to find him, yes,” Clint states, and he means every word. “Give me the comms, Laura. Let me talk to Phil. We can walk out of here, work out how to take down Kingpin. And then get you that farmhouse.”

Even in the dimming sunlight, he spots her lips twitch. “Why do I believe you?”

“Because I’m telling the truth.”

He’s so close to ending this. He can feel it. Part of him can’t believe he’s gotten this far, it’s not like hostage negotiations have a reputation for going well, and he’s not about to flatter himself that it’s all skill on his part. No one can help someone who doesn’t want to be helped. Phil had seen that in him. Now, Clint can only hope that he’ll see it again in Laura. He’s so close.

Which is of course when they hear the sound of the building being stormed.

Laura shoves the comms back in her ear, eyes flying wide. “Retreat,” she orders, pushing herself to her feet and grabbing the gun Clint had really hoped they were done with. “I will shoot him if you come in here, don’t you dare—”

The rest of her sentence is drowned out by the stampede of STRIKE boots running towards the door.

Clint doesn’t hesitate. He twists and pulls, ignoring the sharp pain in both wrists as the zip-tie stretches. It doesn’t snap, because when does his luck ever go that way, but it gives him enough room to get free and lunge across the room.

His hand grabs the gun before Laura can fire it. It’s only when it’s in his hands that he registers that she made no move to pull the trigger. 

She stares at him, breathless. “You could get free this whole time?”

He doesn’t get a chance to answer. He’s too busy shoving the gun’s magazine into his boot compartment, a split second before the door bursts open. 

“Don’t shoot!” He moves in front of her, heart racing as half a dozen guns focus on him instead. “She surrendered.”

All the STRIKE guys are wearing helmets, but Clint can tell the frontman is Rumlow from that stupid white X he insists on wearing on the front of his vest. And he thinks he has the grounds to mock Clint for the bow thing. “Our orders are to shoot on sight,” Rumlow snaps back. “And then rescue the princess from the tower if there’s time.”

Clint doesn’t move. “Well you were late, so I rescued myself. Don’t shoot the small fish, Rumlow. She’s going to help us get someone much bigger.”

“And that’s obviously a lie to buy herself some time. Now move before I—”

“Stand down, Rumlow. That’s an order.”

Then Clint is treated to the glorious sight of the STRIKE team parting like the Red Sea as Phil Coulson makes his way towards him. “Take Mills into custody,” Phil orders. “Gently.”

Clint doesn’t get to watch Laura be taken away. Phil blocks his line of sight, grabbing his arms and steering him away. “You good?”

“Peachy.”

“I couldn’t hold them off any longer. I’m sorry.”

“I’m the one who went off-book.”

“And I haven’t forgotten about it.”

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“Will you, now?”

“Yep. Already got an idea and everything.”

Phil surveys the gun Clint’s still holding. “That hers?”

“Admissible evidence,” Clint says, a bit too quickly, ignoring how the magazine is biting into his ankle. He’ll have to find a way to dispose of it when no one’s watching. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

Phil reaches out to clap him on the shoulder. It feels solid. It feels like home. “Always.”

Walking into Sing Sing without handcuffs is surreal.

Clint takes the seat across from Laura in the tiny room, gesturing to the chair Laura’s perched on. “Uncomfortable, right? They do that on purpose.”

“No shit.” She shifts, sending the cuffs binding her to the table rattling. “And there I was thinking they would give the pregnant woman a break.”

“Thought we weren’t supposed to use the baby as leverage.”

“You’re not. I can milk it all I want.”

Sense of humor, Clint recalls, and has to fight back a smile. The red light of the camera in the corner refuses to let him forget he’s being watched. He only gets one shot at this. Lucky that he never misses his shots. “Well, I’m hoping things are about to get a lot more comfortable for you.”

Laura considers him, her expression careful. “Kingpin has people everywhere. No doubt in SHIELD as well.”

“Then we’ll find them.”

“Just like that?”

“If he’s as dangerous as you say he is. If he was the real cause behind what happened in Miami.”

That careful expression doesn’t shift. “Of course he was the real cause. I mean, I couldn’t even bear to bring a loaded gun to a hostage situation.” She looks pointedly down at his bandaged leg.

Clint matches her neutral tone. “Of course not. You were never actually going to shoot anyone. You were just desperate and scared.” He shifts his leg a little, feeling the stitches there pull. “Shame I tripped and cut myself chasing you.” 

“Of course.” Her lips twitch, just like they had back in the office building. Clint decides he likes it. “So. I help you with Kingpin. You put me and Cooper in witness protection. That’s the deal?”

“Cooper, huh? Nice name.”

“After his father. Although I guess I’ll have to change it in WITSEC. Kingpin knew that's what I wanted to name him.”

“WITSEC is one deal.” Clint leans forward over the table, exactly as Phil had a year ago. “I have a better one.”

“Farmhouse?”

“That might be on the cards. If you join us. We’re always looking for new talent.”

Laura blinks at him, and then bursts out laughing. It’s still one of the prettiest sounds Clint’s ever heard. “Me. A SHIELD agent.”

“The offer sounded just as ridiculous to me when I got it. Seems to be working out, though.” He slouches back in her chair, taking her in. He already knows he wants to have a conversation with her without a gun or handcuffs involved. Many, many more conversations. “Someone else will run you through the logistics. I just wanted to be the one who told you the news.”

She considers him. “You’re weird as hell, Clint Barton.”

“I know. You’ll get used to it.” The camera light blinks twice, signaling his time is up. “They’re pulling me out of here. Think the offer over?”

“I… might.”

She will. Clint’s suddenly sure of it. It makes him wonder if Phil had known he’d say yes, long before Clint himself had. “You never told me your favorite color.”

“Are you serious?”

“I want to know.”

She looks a step away from turning him down before she says, “Yellow. Like sunflowers.”

“Yellow like sunflowers.” Clint has a ridiculous urge to plant her a field full of them. There will be plenty of room at that farmhouse.

He meets Phil on the outside of the cell. “How did it feel being on the other side?” Phil asks.

“Not bad,” Clint admits. “Told you I’d make it up to you.”

“Information on a new crime lord isn’t bad compensation, I’ll admit.”

“I was talking about your newest SHIELD agent.”

Phil glances towards the closed door. “She didn’t say yes yet. Neither did I.”

“And yet you didn’t tell anyone about hearing gunshots over the comms after I told you Mills’s gun wasn’t loaded.”

Phil’s expression remains neutral. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course not. Manhunts can be so chaotic.”

“I know. I chased you down for nearly a year. I have some chiropractor bills I should send you, I spent so long bent over your file.” Phil straightens up, his eyes still on Laura. “I have the paperwork ready. If she says yes. If she’s worth all this.”

Clint is only half-listening. His mind is on farmhouses and sunflowers and a beautiful laugh. “Trust me—she’s worth it.”

[kingsonne-zedecks]

Ghost of a Chance 2

First Chapter

Lindon stared vacantly at the Wei Patriarch as he went on about bravery and honor. None of this made sense. Perhaps Yerin had found a way to reach him after all and he was currently hallucinating while in a medical coma, or maybe Harmony had returned to drag Lindon away to be tortured—Orthos did say the Akura were not honorable with their prisoners.

And what could be more tortuous than to make him relive the part of his life where he was weaker than everyone. 

[Hmm… no. I don’t think that’s quite right]

“Dross? Lindon thought with desperate hope.

[Unless you pulled another mind spirit into your soul when I wasn’t looking. You didn’t do that right? I feel like I would have noticed, but things did get a little weird when Ghostwater collapsed on us.]

Lindon thought of the bright vivid blue that had consumed the world only moments ago. It was easy to recognize now, or perhaps to remember, as the last time Lindon had experienced that sensation was right here— on the stage of the Seven Year Festival— after the Heavenly Messenger Suriel had shown him the outside world. 

He looked down to his hand, and saw the warm marble, clenched in his grasp. Whatever this was, he would handle it, and survive, and keep moving forward.

[Oh that’s good, like really good —the moving forward thing— because it’s starting to get a little awkward out here.]

Lindon pulled himself from his thoughts, and became aware of the murmuring of the crowd. Wei Jin Sairus had finished speaking, and the Unsouled had said nothing in response. He was risking his life with every second he disrespected the Patriarch by failing to answer.

He called out to the child elder of Heaven’s Glory, the words of the past flowing freely through his lips with the help of Dross. He needed to reach Yerin and Eithan, they would know what this was, they would know what to do, he just needed to survive to get to them.

Across the stage, Wei Jin Amon readied his spear. An Iron enforcer on the Path of the White Fox, Amon could move faster and hit stronger than Lindon could have dreamed of at this point in his life, his attacks would be false, tricks of madra that Lindon couldn’t even sense at this point in his life, but Lindon had his own trick up his sleeve.

Doss, battle plan.

[Ok, so the thing is, I’d love to give you a battle plan, and I absolutely will, when I can. Except I’ve never seen this man before in my life, let alone seen his path or how he fights. Also? Your spirit is super small and cramped right now, and it’s really limiting my abilities.] 

[Like, I didn’t want to say anything before, because I thought maybe you might be ashamed of it. Not that you should be! Just that I would totally understand being deeply, deeply, embarrassed by the state of your spirit right now, I mean— you only have one core, and it’s tiny! Not what I had imagined when I first met you at all! That's why I'm pretty sure this isn't a dream —because your spirit is so weak that is. Uncomfortably tight in here. Oh you should probably duck now.]

Lindon dropped to the ground, Amon’s spear swinging through the place where his neck had been merely a moment before. 

He hadn’t even used a technique.

Jeers from the crowd echoed in Lindon’s ears as he rolled to the side, out of the way of a thrust of Amon’s spear that threatened to pin his body to the stage. Panic finally receded enough for Lindon to push his wisps of madra through his body, cycling the Soul Cloak. His movements became smooth and intentional, carrying him gracefully out of his desperate roll and into a ready and waiting stance.

Amon rushed forward once more and Lindon moved almost as if he had the surety of an Iron body once again, slipping under the reach of Amon’s spear, landing an Empty Palm on his core, and slamming his foot against the side of Amon’s own in one fluid step.

Amon stumbled and fell to the ground, his fall due more to the unexpected disruption of his madra than the kick. It had taken two strikes to cause Mon Keth to lose his footing, but he had been an Iron for decades, and Amon was only recently advanced to his stage and less sure in his power for it.

He wasn’t the only one who stumbled though, as Lindon felt his core abruptly grow dangerously low. He hadn’t paid attention to how rapidly the Soul Cloak was draining his limited supply of madra, and his Empty Palm was far more efficient at delivering power than it had been back when he was truly Unsouled. Between the two techniques he had already consumed far more than he was used to.

Amon was already rising to his feet, his spirit beginning to recover, and Lindon began to panic. If he dropped the Soul Cloak he would lose, and if he kept it up he would only last enough to land maybe two—

[One]

—One more Empty Palm against his foe. He had to make it count, and had to land it before Amon had finished recovering. Lindon eyed the edge of the arena, and how close Amon’s fall had brought him. Defeating Amon traditionally wasn’t an option, he’d after to remove him from the stage. 

With the Soul Cloak enforcing him still, Lindon threw himself towards Amon. Like following the steps of a dance, Lindon rushed forward, body twisting even as his arm raised, ready to redirect the momentum of Amon’s spear thrust against him in order to land his own strike. 

Pain blossomed in his side as his arm passed through nothing. The Foxtail. Amon had decided to use his sacred arts after all. Lindon gritted his teeth and pushed forward— biting down on his cries as his movement caused the head of the spear to erupt out the other side of his body— but it was enough. He was close enough to thrust his spike of pure madra into Amon’s core, pushing everything he had into this last technique. 

Amon’s eyes went wide as his madra lost all cohesion and the enforcement technique running through his body fell apart. Lindon shoved, and Amon fell backwards across the boundary of the arena. He needed to be sure though, and with a scream Lindon pulled the spear free from his side, turning its bloody point against the throat of Amon.

“I win” he said, his words echoing in the silence of the Festival grounds, and then he collapsed into unconsciousness.

Next Chapter

AO3 Link

[pirate-of-the-southern-isles]

Fanfic's snippet - How Hans became a pirate, part IV

First part here

Second part here

Third part here

Hans is telling the story of what the hell is he doing here to Anna and Elsa after three years of the events portrayed and from his own perspective, mind you.

Hans was painfully aware that he is wearing only his old pyjamas.

Captain Rogers, on the contrary, had an elegant, red coat with black lining and a tricorn similar to his daughter’s, with a golden hem.  Across his chest a leather belt was hanging, two small daggers inserted into it. He had a short, dark and well-kept beard. His hair was surprisingly long for a sailor and he didn’t even tie it. But the most important thing about him was his aura of… not even an authority, it was simply something that made Hans think that the captain knows every answer to every question, and if he is still asking – it is simply because it is, unfortunately, his duty.  

“Prince Hans Westergaard” he stated calmly, tapping his pen on the desk. “The unlucky thirteen”.

Great, so he didn’t have to introduce himself.

“Ahoy?” he tried; from a time perspective, this attempt to make the atmosphere a bit lighter was quite… sad.

Nevertheless, captain did smile a little. Probably for the sake of good manners.

“So, what exactly are you planning to do here, m’lad? We have no princesses to kill. Nor queens.”

Hans took a slightly deeper breath, trying to compose himself. Maybe it is good that Layla warned him. In the end, the word of his… misdeeds… has probably travelled far. Of this fact his father reminded him constantly and painfully, explaining in excruciating details what a shame he brought for the entire family. It was a little strange that the crew didn’t recognize him, though. Maybe it was too dark? But if their captain knows, he will have to tell them too. Maybe he will gain some “tough guy” points. He heard that it works that way in prisons… maybe.

“I… I would like to be a pirate” he stuttered, knowing that it sounds like something said by a ten-year-old rascal. He pulled down his sleeves a little.

“Why?”

How did Raivis put it? For adventure, for glory, for unforgettable story?

“Because I have nothing left to lose and no way out”. Those words practically rolled down his lips without him knowing. He almost wanted to slap himself. How could he let himself be so vulnerable in the first ten minutes?! He was practically begging to be laughed at.

Captain looked at him carefully, like he was studying some specimen.

“You look quite alive, Hans, so you have something to lose”. He put a pen down. “Two legs, two arms, one head… look, you even have a full set of fingers and toes. Do you know how easy it is to lose it, being a pirate?”

He took a moment to think about it.

“I suppose… I am willing to risk it”.

Rogers smiled again, this time with slight amusement.

“You have no idea what you are trying to get into. Nor what are you really willing to risk.”

“But I know what I can’t risk”. He lifted his chin a little and added a few more decibels into his voice, so it doesn’t feel like he was whispering anymore. He also hoped that captain won’t notice how hard he is trembling. “I can’t risk going back home”.

For a moment there was a silence in the cabin. After a few seconds of it he was fully willing to get down on his knees and beg if Rogers won’t let him in.

“What can you do?”

“E… excuse me?”

“On a ship, every crewman has to have some skills. What are yours, m’lad?”

Hans had over twenty years of experience in being a prince, which meant he was trained in a few different martial arts and fencing, he knew something about diplomacy and, how certain events demonstrated, he was also excellent at manipulating people. He was also able to run fast, take cover and pretend he is not even here. After Arendelle he learned how to do a hard, physical labour. That was quite a good start for an entry level pirate, wasn’t it?

He could say all of this and maybe it would work. But this smoke from a burned gun powder went through his nose straight to the brain, swaddling everything into a thick layer of fog. Or so he assumed, because there was no other explanation of his next words.

“I can read maps…?”. It was the stupidest thing he could say. He didn’t even know why, from all the possible options, he chose this one. He didn’t know the first thing about maps, he just knew how to not held them upside down!

It was a mistake, it was painfully obvious.

“Ah, maps, you say…?” He knew the captain knew he just lied. “Alright, then.” Rogers rose up from his stunningly ornamented desk and walked to the back of the cabin. Only now Hans has noticed that there was a portiere, its colour blending with the wallpaper, hiding some other room. “We shall see, then. We are heading towards Eldora now. You will tell us the shortest route and explain how to avoid submerged rocks. Please, wait for me”.

The captain disappeared and good, because Hans was pretty sure that in a few seconds he is going to burst into tears and he really wasn’t able to endure such an embarrassment. This day was definitely too long. And in a few minutes he will be kicked off the ship he barely managed to get onto. They were quite far on the sea now, so there were only two possibilities. Either he will drown or he will manage to swim his way back to the land. There was only one, small issue – there was no other land in the swimming distance other than the Southern Isles. If he would swim there… maybe drowning wasn’t such a bad option.

“Mrrp?”

He flinched, hearing an unexpected sound.

A cat has jumped on the desk. It was a giant cat. Not a fat one, just… muscular. It looked a little like a tiger, just sized down by some sort of a spell.

“Oh… hi?” He stood steadily, letting the animal to smell him. He even offered his hand, as a sign of a good will. The cat started to rub its whiskers against it. And then it climbed and leaned its front paws on his chest. It was so heavy it almost hurt. “Oh, you are friendly…”

The cat was now sniffing around his ears and eyes, every few seconds nudging his cheeks with its head. Eventually, Hans decided to take it into his arms. In the end, if he is going to die today, at least he is going to hug a kitty before. Maybe it will make it a little better.

The pet immediately snuggled into him, its head against the shoulder and started purring deliciously. Vibrations of this sound went straight down into Hans’s spine. He felt how they are steadying his rampaging heart, untying the knot on his stomach and loosening the tightness in his throat.

“Well, hello” he whispered, petting the creature on its enormous back. “What is your name, kitty? Mine is Hans and, well, apparently I am an idiot”.

After this surprisingly honest, probably originating from a subsiding hysteria, statement, the cat purred even louder. And it laid its paw – a really mighty paw – on his chest, like it was trying to say that everything is going to be alright…

And in this moment Hans has finally noticed that captain Rogers just got back and is looking at them with his eyes wide.

“Oh, sorry, I shouldn’t have…?” the prince asked, wondering if he should keep holding the cat or if he should put it down somewhere.

“No! Don’t move!” Rogers approached them fast, not blinking even once and started to examine them like they were a statue in a museum. Hans couldn’t tell if he managed to make him mad or if he is just borderline stunned. “M’lad, how did you manage to do that?”

“But… what, exactly?”

“You are holding Mango”. He answered, still shocked. “Mango is a hellish creature, feared by the most vicious pirates. She hates the whole world with a burning passion and usually, if someone is trying to touch her, they end up with few stiches… and you… can you talk to animals, by any chance?”

“Not that I know…?” He stated, even if he was tempted to enthusiastically confirm – at least this lie wouldn’t be so obvious like the cartographical one.

“So, how…?”

“She… she just came to me, I didn’t know…”

Purring quickly turned into growling when the captain took one step too far – as far as the cat was concerned, of course. He immediately recoiled, like even he was scared of her.

“Well, m’lad…” He put the map he brought with himself on the table. “I see there is indeed something interesting in you”.

Hans didn’t know how to respond, so he just smiled awkwardly, still holding the cat.

“Very well, then”. Rogers finally said, passing near them. “You have to know that Mango is also the most excellent pest-catcher who ever lived on this world. She won’t let any rat on her deck. If she states that something or someone is not a rat, then I am left with no choice but to trust her judgement.”

Hans held his breath.

“Come.” The captain gestured towards him to approach. “We should introduce you to the rest of the crew. Welcome aboard.”

The sense of relief he felt in that moment was nearly impossible to describe.

“I… thank you”.

“Just make sure I won’t regret it.”

“You won’t regret it!”

“Captain”.

“Captain. Of course. You won’t regret it, captain. I promise. But… captain…?”

Rogers turned towards him and raised an eyebrow.

“I… to be honest, I can’t read maps. I mean, at least not to well.” He admitted, crouching down a little.

Rogers chuckled.

“I know.”

[freudianslumber]

Tiger Man

Summary: The year was 1941, bandmates and secret lovers Scotty Moore and Elvis Presley got caught red handed by Scotty’s fiancée, and this led to the young men being thrusted headlong into the China-Burma-India theater of World War II as members of the first American Volunteer Group (The Flying Tigers).

Chapter 10. Garden of Roses

Pairing:  Scotty Moore/Elvis Presley (m/m), Ken Ishikawa/Elvis Presley (m/m)

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: mentions of past murders, rape, dreams and nightmares, sex and intimacy, physical and sexual assault

“So, why did you save me?  And why would you kill your own kind?”  Elvis finally brought up the perplexing questions in his mind, still blindfolded, but now sitting in the back of a car with Ken Ishikawa sitting next to him and Seto driving. 

“Oh, don’t insult me, El.  I would never consider Lieutenant Miura or his minions to be my kind!”  The Major seemed to take offense to the notion.  “They were too reckless and vulgar, no sense of proper appreciation or awe for a magnificent creature like you, darling.  It’s like when I go hunting and encounter an endangered and beautiful species of deer, the first thing on my mind can’t be to shoot it for meat.”

The tone and wording of the Japanese officer were creepily intimate, setting off alarms in Elvis’ mind.  “What in the world do you want with me then?  I’m of no use to you as a source of intelligence, you know that by now!”  The pilot was keenly aware that his hands were still tied up tightly behind his back, feeling numb and stiff.  His feet remained in shackles as well, reminding him of his prisoner status.  He had a bad feeling about the direction this conversation was taking. 

“I guess that’s a fair question.” Ishikawa sighed, “Can’t you tell I’ve been infatuated with you this whole time??”  With that confession he placed his right hand on the American’s left thigh, causing the latter to jump a little.  Elvis tried but was unable to escape this intrusive advance due to the small confines of the backseats.   “Don’t be so prudish, El.” The officer chuckled, still using the nickname without ever getting consent from the young man.  He squeezed and rubbed the prisoner’s thigh suggestively against his will, delighting in it at the other’s expense.

Now that the cat was out of the bag, Ishikawa went on to reveal more about his thoughts and motivation: “When I saw you for the first time, on the verge of bleeding out when you arrived, I already felt an irrational attraction to you.  I just knew I couldn’t let them amputate your leg; it would be such a shame to leave you permanently crippled.  Later I got to know about your personality during our interactions and the interrogation sessions.  You are stubborn and spunky, almost too much for your own sake.  But you earned my respect for your tenaciousness, and for being loyal to your country.  In the Imperial Army we were taught to look down on captive soldiers because they were seen as dishonorable cowards.  But you impressed me with your mental toughness and stoicism.  Although I was frustrated that you weren’t spilling any useful information we were seeking, I realized I couldn’t let you die when you almost didn’t make it during the last interrogation.  I couldn’t believe how emotionally attached I had become in such a short time.  I halted the interrogations to let you recover and began to scheme of a way to remove you from the torture and pain.  When I received transfer orders for you, I wasn’t filled in regarding if you were being transferred to a prison camp literally or if that was a cover for secret execution.   But given my background and experience, I had a strong inkling it might be the latter.  So Seto and I followed the car, planning to abduct you on the way even if this was just going to be a regular transport to Kandaw prison camp.  Of course, as you know now, we ended up catching them in the act and took out the whole execution squad instead…”

“So you went through all that to make me into your lover doll??” Elvis interrupted the Major, sounding indignant and outraged. He was almost going to use the more jarring term “sex slave” instead, but even just the thought left him chilled to the bone. 

“I wouldn’t put it in that way, El.  I understand you have a lot of misgivings against me, but I have genuine feelings for you.”  Ishikawa objected.   His prisoner replied in an incredulous tone: “That’s just ludicrous!  We are enemies and you are a sadist, end of story!!”

“Calm down, will you?”  Major Ishikawa ripped off Elvis’ blindfold all of a sudden, engaging him in eye contact.  “The truth is, there was another personal reason I was drawn to you initially.  You reminded me of my first love in high school.  His name was Sean.  He was strawberry blond and not as pretty as you, but he had a pair of pure blue eyes as well.  We kissed and made out, that was the extent of what we did.  But eventually he left me after his older brothers found out about us.  They beat me almost to a pulp and told me to go back where I came from.  Soon after that Sean sent me a letter saying our relationship was over because he was pressured by his family to end it.  I knew even if I were a girl, I would never be accepted by his folks simply because I was Japanese, even though my family was much wealthier than his.  That was when I realized I didn’t belong in America, even though up to that point I had spent more years in the U.S. than in Japan.  Another valuable lesson I learned was only the strong survive, if I didn’t want to be hurt anymore, I had to become the aggressor.  A year or two after that I went back to my home country and joined the Imperial Army with support and encouragement from my own family.  One of my uncles had connections with the Cabinet, it followed that the political ambitions of the Ishikawa clan would benefit from a successful military career if I managed to achieve that.  So, I went through hellish training and had to prove myself repeatedly during the war, eventually rose through the ranks to become the Major Ishikawa you are seeing today.”  

“Why did you tell me all this?” The pilot inquired uneasily.  “Because I want you to know where I came from, El.  I used to be softhearted like you, I used to be a romantic, but reality put me back in my place.  Now I know, nothing lasts forever in this world, it’s survival of the fittest.  Power, dominance, and pleasure are what I’m after, and there is nothing wrong with that.”  The Kempei officer concluded emphatically, his right hand creeping up from the bound prisoner’s thigh to the soft skin below his navel underneath his flimsy white shirt, creating a wave of nervous spasms there.

The tense air in the car was disrupted when Seto pulled the vehicle into the driveway of a residence.  As he parked, Elvis looked out the car window at the nice British-style house shrouded in moonlight.   He regretted not paying more attention to how they got there and the layout of the surrounding neighborhood, but he could hardly be blamed given his antagonist’s disturbing invasion of his personal space.  This was a good-sized detached house quite far removed from the next home due to a large fenced-up backyard.  After getting out from the car, the party of three entered the garden directly from a side door, bypassing the main house.  They walked across a lawn and passed between some overgrown rose bushes, coming to a small two-story brick structure in the rear section of the courtyard.  Elvis guessed this little dwelling was probably originally designed for a housekeeper or the occasional guests.  One sinister feature of this otherwise harmless looking guesthouse was that all the windows had been boarded up. 

As the three got in the door, they passed the laundry room which took up the ground floor, climbed the narrow stairs into the second story.  Ishikawa lighted two kerosene lamps, while explaining he and his wife had been staying in the main house which used to belong to a British official before it was abandoned prior to Japanese occupation. 

“Mrs. Ishikawa??” Elvis repeated the title unwittingly, surprised by the existence of such a figure.  “Didn’t think I’d be married?” The Major sounded sarcastic, “Mizuki is her name.  She knows by now I’m more attracted to men.  I entered matrimony just to stave off constant urging by my parents and relatives.  Don’t worry about her, she knows not to disturb us here.  She’s a nice girl and a diligent housewife.  Her family owed us a large sum of money, so they needed this union to keep going.”

Despite the oil lamps, the whole place was dark and damp, feeling like a dungeon.  The floor plan included a small open kitchen area, a dining room, a bathroom and a bedroom with a large bed taking up most of the space. When Elvis’ hands were finally untied, they were so numb and weak he wondered if they were permanently damaged.  He was led to the round table in the tiny dining room and told to sit in a chair.  The host then offered him a glass of water, pointing out that his lips looked chapped from dehydration. When the young man almost dropped the glass as he tried to raise it to his uniquely curvy lips, the Major stood up, took the glass from his hands and tried to feed the water to him.  In the blink of an eye, Elvis leaped out of his seat and head-butted Ishikawa hard in the stomach.  The Japanese officer was caught off guard and stumbled for a moment, but quickly recovered and chased after the daring prisoner.  The pilot made a run for the door after the surprise attack, but he fell across the floor almost right away as his shackled feet couldn’t keep up with his body.   He crawled forward in desperation, but it was all over when Seto almost crushed him with his full weight just before the American could reach the door.    

“Well, that really took the cake for stupidity.  Even for you, El!” Ishikawa loudly reprimanded his non-cooperative subject as the latter was pulled up from the ground by Seto.  The Major sounded a little out of breath, clenching his teeth from lingering pain as he clutched his midsection.   “What did ya expect? You think I’d let ya have your way with me without a fight??”  As usual, the fearlessness in the young man’s voice and demeanor was impressive. 

“I figured you might need taming, but you’ve just made it a lot harder for yourself!” The irate Kempei officer signaled the physical therapist with his eyes.  Subsequently, the latter helped Ishikawa strong-arm Elvis to the bedroom and strapped him to the bed securely.  The sight of the gorgeous prisoner finally tied down to his bed and spread out for him awakened a flood of instincts and desires within the intelligence officer.  He could barely contain his lust as he quickly dismissed Seto so that he could be left alone with the object of his wet dreams.

“Here we are, in our own little world at last!” The excitement in the Major’s voice was palpable.  The blue-eyed airman felt like a mouthwatering piece of dessert he could swallow up whole.  “Just how many allied soldiers have you violated like this, you scumbag?” the incapacitated pilot suddenly questioned while Ishikawa proceeded to cut open his clothes with a pair of scissors.   “Watch your mouth or you’ll regret it in a minute!!”  The Major warned in response to the profanity, then paused for a bit, apparently debating if he should provide an actual answer.  In the end he conceded: “Alright I guess I owe the truth to you.  I had taken two prisoners and held them here in the past.  But it was different because both of them did agree to have sex with me.  Each of them had also divulged military secrets to us during interrogation.  I think they would do anything as long as their lives were spared…”  “So, what did you do to them?” Elvis interrupted the Japanese officer rather loudly, eyes glaring at his face. 

Giving a nonchalant shrug, Ishikawa replied: “So I used them to satisfy my physical needs, and then I disposed of them when I got tired of them.  I buried them under the rose bushes in this backyard.”  “What?!” Elvis yelled, extremities straining against the ropes instinctively.  “You are a psychopath and serial killer if I ever saw one!”  The Kempei officer yelled back without missing a beat: “They deserved it!  Those two betrayed their own country, there should be no mercy for traitors!”  “That does not change the fact you are a cold-blooded rapist and murderer!”  Memphis Flash wouldn’t back down, pointing out the undeniable.

“Looks like you’ve forgotten that you are still in my hands!  What you need is a little help with quieting and calming down!” Before the last word had been spoken, the domineering military man took out a roll of masking tape from a drawer next to the bed.  Disregarding objections from his victim, Ishikawa taped his mouth shut.  As the young man’s face began to turn a little red from hyperventilating and making muffled grunting noises behind the tape, the ruthless army man took out a clearly well-prepared pre-mixed syringe with needle and jabbed Elvis in the arm, injecting unknown medicine into a muscle there. 

The Flying Tiger continued to buck against his restraints despite the futility of it all, but only a few minutes passed by when he began to get drowsy.  The Major was now smiling and saying something, but the words sounded echoey and remote.  Elvis watched helplessly as the Japanese officer stripped him of all his clothes, arranging his limbs and torso in demeaning postures.  He watched with horror as the same vile man unzipped the pants of his Ninja outfit, freeing himself and proceeded to drill into his core with almost no lubrication or preparation.  The pain from the rear was deep and tearing, but dulled by unnatural sedation and an emptiness which was overarching.  He could see his body shiver and rock beneath the fiend who was attacking with savage energy.  A drop of tear fell from corner of his right eye despite attempts to hold it in.  Ambient white noise started to get so loud that it overwhelmed Elvis, his vision became more and more limited.  His eyes rolled up and darkness engulfed him at last. 

Elvis was standing on the bank of the raging Salween River, with wind blowing through his torn and ripped white shirt.  He needed to wash himself clean, that was the only thought on his mind as he stared despairingly at the torrent.  A couple of teeny, little hands grabbed a hold of him and tugged on his clothes.  When the sad-eyed young man looked down, he found two Chinese school boys and Wen Fang standing next to him.  The youngsters pleaded with him not to take the next step, saying he was their hero.  “Uncle Xiao Ai! My sister and I are waiting for you in Kunming.  Don’t leave us, you are my favorite pal!”  The Yang sister added, stretching out her arms in an invitation.  The pilot had no choice but to give in then, so he bent down and lifted the little girl up in his arms.  “Uncle Xiao Ai, will you sing us a song?  We love to hear you sing!”  She implored as she wrapped her arms around the tall American’s neck in a warm embrace.  “Xiao Fang, you know I’ll do anything to make you happy.” Elvis sighed, gathered his thoughts and chose to sing a slow ballad with gentle melancholy:

I saw the harbor lights They only told me we were parting Those same old harbor lights That once brought you to me. I watched the harbor lights How could I help it? Tears were starting. Good-bye to golden nights Beside the silvery seas.

As the serenade came to a close, Elvis realized he was no longer at the riverbank, and the kids had disappeared as well.  Instead, he was back in his own bedroom in Memphis, surrounded with the familiar pink decorations.  The Blue Moon Boys singer was crying in bed, with his head buried in a big Teddy bear.  Mama Gladys came in dressing like an angel ghost again: “Oh baby, don’t give up.  I know how hard it’s been for you, but believe me, help is on the way.”  Her only son raised up his head, looking back at Gladys with large teary eyes: “Satinin, s-sorry to let you down.  But I-I can’t take it no more.  My heart and soul had been shattered and crushed.  Maybe it’s best to end it all.”  “Don’t think that way, baby.” Gladys walked next to the bed, running her hand through that naturally splendid head of hair, massaging the young man’s scalp, “You gotta soldier on, and there’s a solution to everything.  Don’t forget, ending your own life is a sin.” 

“But you told me I’d already sinned for loving a man.  Sinning one last time can’t be that much worse.”  Elvis pointed out the incongruence in the logic, not ready to change his course.  This was immediately met with disproval by his Mama, who slapped him lightly on the back as an admonishment: “Don’t you talk back to Satinin, and never second guess the fairness of God.  He works in mysterious ways.  Trust me baby, I need you to hang on.  There is light at the end of the tunnel…”

The next thing Elvis remembered was fronting the Blue Moon Boys in a dynamite gig in front of an exuberant crowd.  After the conclusion of the show, he and Scotty escaped the wild teenage fans and ran into the backstage dressing room.  They locked the door and kissed each other sloppily.  Scotty’s steely blue eyes lit up as he admired the naked body of his perfect lover, perching on top of the narrow vanity table, with clothes scattered on the ground in a semicircle.   The guitarist’s magical fingers aroused and soothed his pliant partner all at once.  Confident and in control, Scotty pulled the singer to the edge of the table, placing that pair of graceful legs over his arms, entering the younger man from below in a tight embrace.  Elvis almost burst into tears from the rush of warmth and intimacy that enveloped him.  His heart screamed in ecstasy, but his mouth was seized and occupied by Scotty’s zealous tongue, so only the odd moan was heard.  Finally releasing his mouth when both of them were out of breath, Scotty lifted his boyfriend off of the vanity top and flipped him over to face the mirror. 

Elvis bent over the countertop with his chest touching the cool wooden surface, he could feel one firm hand of his lover on his back pushing him down while his lower body was crowded in from behind.  Next Elvis’ hands were caught, and they were easily tied up behind his back with a necktie.  Experienced hands stroked him up and down sensuously, from his erect nipples to his narrow waist, not to mention the firm and shapely buttocks.  Warm lips peppered his lower and then upper back with little pecks, working up to the base of his neck.  Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through Elvis as he felt a vicious bite there.  He couldn’t help but let out a scream after what felt like a beastly or a vampire attack.  Everything happened so fast, and it all went horribly wrong after that. 

“What on earth? Scotty, are you alright?”  Trying to get over his shock and understand what happened, the young singer asked his partner.  This was greeted with silence and a hand that grabbed his neck and choked it with brutal strength.  Another hand pulled his head up by the hair until he saw his own reflection in the vanity mirror a few inches away.  Pale and perturbed, the young man on the receiving end of this senseless battering finally caught a glimpse of the man who dealt it out.  “Scotty can’t answer you.  You are mine now, El!” The officer in Kempei uniform sported a malevolent grin on his face.   He turned his suffocating and defenseless victim over, licked across his chest and nipples, making his ill intent clear.  When Ken Ishikawa finally released his strangle hold on Elvis’ throat, the feisty young American spat right in his face: “Let go of me, you son of a bitch!! What did you do to my Scotty?”   

Without a flinch, the Major wiped the saliva from the side of his face with a handkerchief.  Unsheathing his katana, the officer showed the fresh blood on its sharp and shiny blade: “Are you sure you want me to answer the question?  Let’s just say you’ll never see your lover again.” 

“No way!  You liar!  Scotty is still alive!  I know it!”  Elvis went berserk at the ludicrous suggestion that his Scotty had been killed.  Completely disregarding the danger and deadliness of the Kempei officer wielding a katana sword, he kneed Ishikawa in the gut and tried to run despite his hands being tied up behind him.  That was when he felt a cold blade impaling him in the middle of the back.  He collapsed to the ground with blood pouring out and his life rapidly draining from him, the last thought on his mind before everything faded to black was: “Scotty is alive, he will be fine, I know it…”

[silentsockfeet]

tlou hbo s1 ep5 thoughts (spoilers)

i don’t know why but i was surprised that the fedra overthrow happened so recently? in the fourth ep it seemed like it happened years ago and that kathleen had been running the militia group for a while

the parallel of henry telling sam to look at him and not at the rebel activity and joel saying the same thing to sarah in the first ep

reallyyy liked the line about ‘burning the bodies’ because of how it connects back to ep4, where one of the first shots of kansas city was of a giant pile of ash and bones. like you don’t think much of it in that moment beyond maybe like ‘oh shit something happened here’ so getting that extra layer feel very fulfilling

kathleen sitting and talking with all those prisoners caused me so much pain mostly because it reminded me of like every shitty know-it-all teacher with a superiority complex i had in middle/high school. but honestly it kind of works for the character like the fixation on doing what she wants and getting everyone else to fall in line,, idk it was just a genuinely terrifying characterization tbh and for that i liked it

i kinda wish they explained the relationship between perry and kathleen more, perry is literally ride or die for her but we have no idea why and it makes that side of the story feel a lot more emotionless than it could’ve been

i like the fact that sam is deaf in the show, mostly because it’s a new perspective on how people navigate the apocalypse. it was cool to see the different ways he communicates with people, or the ways he and henry have to adjust their actions to account for his lack of awareness. i do think it felt a little cheap in the sense that they only did it to make him rely more on henry, all of the important scenes with sam were the same as the game so it didn’t feel as if making him deaf enhanced those scenes.

absolutely LOVE this henry’s characterization. in the game he seemed way older for his age because he had more experience and was a lot more intense about things, like not letting sam play soccer and that sort of thing. but in the show he actually feels more like his age, maybe even a bit younger. he’s inexperienced, scared, immediately looks up to joel in almost a mentor-mentee way. he’s more lenient with just letting sam be a kid (and this could also be due to the fact that sam is younger here) which gives him a bit of his own child-like wonder. idk i just liked that they made him a bit lighter, a bit more earnest

the re’s all sorts of parallels in this ep i love it. henry having ellie and joel at gun point and he tells joel to look at him, not at sam, the same way marlene tells joel to point the gun at her, not at ellie. just the same drive towards protection

i don’t know why it never occurred to me that fedra could be like. worse or better depending on which qz you live in lol. like the games always characterized them as like a shit government period but never really went into nuance, so it wasn’t until the scene where joel and henry talk about it where it liked clicked to me that some could be worse than others. really makes the whole kansas city storyline feel a lot fuller now

“you ran into two clickers and you’re still alive” this line hurt so much. like he didn’t mean anything by it but he doesn’t realize that actually no they lost so much for it

ellie sticking close to sam, keeping an arm around him or giggling with him or whatever :’) they really nailed their friendship i’m so glad for it

the ish reference 🤌

i had my doubts about the kansas city / kathleen storyline after ep4 but i’m a lot happier with it now that we have more of the backstory. knowing that kathleen’s brother was the leader of the resistance and that on multiple accounts he was a genuinely good man makes all of kathleen’s and the milita group’s actions make a lot more sense. that plus the fact that the revolt happened only like a week ago and like yeah okay i get it now. still think they could’ve afforded an extra 10-15 min in the last ep just to flesh out KC more but at least we got something here

“i am a bad guy because i did a bad guy thing” love this line because it’s like the antithesis of tlou’s main themes, first the idea that there are no bad guys in this kind of world, and then also the idea that joel doesn’t care about good and bad, he cares about keeping ellie safe.

the infected scene was so fuckin sick, i was cheering the whole time!! i get why they’re a little stingy on showing them, it keeps the horror and suspense up and all, but i really do wish we could see more of them. and the bloater!!!! so cool!!!!!! when he killed perry using the same death animation from the game i got so fuckin hype lmfao

the running theme of the superheroes throughout this ep, and then the way it all ties into ellie seeing herself as the hero and thinking she’ll be able to save sam,,, it’s so good but so painful. i could write a whole post about ellie’s characterization and how all the threads connect together (her naivety, her fixation on violence, the way all these things contribute to her hero complex) but i won’t do it here. i just love that we’re getting to explore this more, i feel like the game has more emphasis on the idea that being the cure is an obligation for ellie, so having this side of it helps fill in the gaps for her motivations (and also sets up the foundation for pt2, but that is also a separate post)

also really the love the parallel of henry asking sam ‘do i look scared’ and sam shrugs as if to say ‘i mean yeah kinda’ but then at the end of the ep ellie asks sort of the same question of ‘do i NOT look scared?’ and sam says never and i just love the differences there

i’m not gonna say much on henry and sam’s death, other people have already shared my thoughts in better, more articulate posts than what i can write. while i do wish sam and henry had a happier ending i don’t really know how they could’ve changed the story without impacting that narrative beat. and while i wish that didn’t come at the expense of black people i can’t say i expected them to do anything different. just a small summary of my thoughts

overall did like this ep better than the last, tho the complaint about pacing feeling too fast is still there and sadly i’m expecting it to only get worse through the rest of the season :/

[gatekeeper-watchman]

What the Bible Says about Self Worth

Self-Image, Self Confidence, Self Love: What the Bible Says about Self Worth

An Ordinary Daisy 

From as far back as I can remember, I wanted to be extraordinary. I didn’t want to be just another person in the nameless mass of humanity. I wanted to stand out as someone who broke out of the prison that most of us are born into; the prison of such a short wisp of a life–gone almost before it starts, no remembrance of it when gone, and no lasting impression made while alive. I’m aware that many, if not most of us, face this same struggle. I don’t know if mine was more profound than most. I only know that it was a driving force of my existence from the time I was a young teenager.

When I gave my life to the Lord at age 18, this desire was automatically transferred into the kingdom of God. I was determined to not be an “ordinary Christian.” I was going to do outstanding things for God, at any personal cost or sacrifice. I would never, never be a mere pew warmer. In those years I was quite zealous for God, and on my college campus, I had a reputation (which I loved) of being “on fire for God.” I attended Christian meetings almost every night of the week, spent much time in prayer and reading the Bible, and shared the Gospel everywhere I went. My desire and love for the things of God were genuine. However, I did not see that lurking under the surface of my zeal was a deep insecurity that the enemy would try to use to destroy me.

Breaking Free from Proving My Worthiness, Insecurity, and Pride

I didn’t see that much of my so-called “fire” for God was just a fire for myself to be acceptable in my own eyes. I truly loved the Lord, but it would have shocked me if I could have seen back then (or probably even now!) how much of what I did for the Lord, was just for myself. I laughed at the Pharisees when I read how Jesus preached at them for doing what they did so men could see them and admire them. It never occurred to me that I might be in that category myself. No one likes to see the worst in themselves, and many times we are truly blinded to it. It takes the gentle work of the Holy Spirit, peeling away layers of pride, deception, sin, and insecurities for us to see ourselves as we are.

Since that time, God has led me through many things to break this deadly “religious spirit.” I don’t have time to share them all here, but I will say that the work has been sometimes painful, but always cleansing and freeing. Most of our striving is based on the simple fact that deep down inside we aren’t sure that anyone (least of all God) likes us for who we are–especially at our weakest and most horrible. Most of us can accept that He loves us because He is God, but we tend to look at it as a broad sort of “tough love”–He loves us, but is more saddened by us than anything, and tolerates us because of His goodness–but He doesn’t like us that much.

Recently, the Lord showed me in a beautiful way, how wrong we are to think this of Him. I was at a prophetic conference in Colorado with a dear friend of mine, and one of our assignments was to turn around to the person behind us (someone we did not know) and pray together, and then share what the Lord had shown us about each other. Needless to say, some were nervous that they wouldn’t “get anything” from God, but we all obeyed. The man who prayed with me began to share what he was seeing, and one of the words that he used was weed. For some reason, this sort of bothered me deep inside. A weed seemed so…ordinary, so weak and unimpressive. “Surely that wasn’t how God saw me, was it?” I exclaimed.

Later, as I shared the words that had been given to me and received, I didn’t mention Daisy at all, because I felt sort of ashamed about it.  All I mentioned about it was that the man I prayed with had called me a weed.

On the next and final day of the conference, all the attendees were assigned to go to various “prophetic teams” of people who would pray and prophesy over us before we went home. As I was being prayed over, one of the ladies in the team said, “Lord, I see here a Daisy, and that there is something so special to you about Daisy's heart.” Again, I felt a slight flare of annoyance but ignored it, so I could “move on in the spirit” to everything else they were saying. Much of what was said ministered deeply to me, but as it turned out, nothing touched me more than the reference to Daisy.

The Simply Beauty God Sees in Us

Immediately after the prayer, I was walking to meet my friend, and I heard the voice of God speak clearly to my heart. “Mercy, why do you love Daisies so much?” This surprised me. This may seem unbelievable, but right up until that very moment, I had forgotten how much I genuinely love Daisies! “Well, they just cheer me up I guess,” I said to the Lord. “I like them because of their simple beauty. They aren’t overblown or pretentious. They seem clean and pure and wholesome and real. They just make me smile. I guess I can’t explain all the reasons why I’m attracted to them–I just am.” Immediately, I began to cry, as I realized what the Lord was trying to show me.

It is often said that the hardest person to live with and love unconditionally is ourselves. Yet, I believe that just as we are attracted to things like Daises, so God made us be attracted to ourselves as well–and I am not talking about vain narcissism or arrogant pride. These are Satan’s counterfeits for this truth of God. His ways breed envy and disdain for our fellow man. God’s ways, however, release us to find joy in being just who He created us to be — a unique reflection of His image. When this work is completed in us, we can truly rejoice at the marvelous things He has done in others without feeling the slightest twinge of envy, competition, or inferiority.

Could it be that many of us would like ourselves a whole lot more if we weren’t so busy trying to impress ourselves and others, trying to create another persona that we feel more comfortable in? Could it be that if we would simply let God be Himself in us, we might like the person that emerges–that hidden, weak, scared side of us that we try to keep stuff away from prying eyes? In that area of our being (even in the most humiliating part of it) lies a precious seed planted by God. God wants to breathe on it and cause supernatural life to grow from that place that we hate the most. This is where He will bring forth the greatest beauty in us–if we will let Him. All it takes is bravery; which is another word for faith. This He gives freely and abundantly to all who call on Him in truth.

Whether we ever make the history books of this world is of very little consequence. The records that are kept by man are incomplete and biased anyway. We all remember things differently from each other, and couldn’t possibly do justice to even one life, let alone the billions of people that have lived on this planet. However, there is a Book that has recorded every one of our lives–a History Book kept by the only One who sees everything that happened and who is impartial in His records. In His Book, no one is overlooked or forgotten, regardless of the importance of their life on earth. We may weep over injustice in human history and our fears of being forgotten, but I tell you that with God there is no such thing. A Day of Reckoning is coming — and on that day, all of history will be judged by the only One who can judge it righteously and mercifully.

Anyone can do “good deeds” but they do not necessarily justify us in God’s eyes, or win His heart. The Pharisees are proof of that. What He wants from us is honesty and humility. Our own “righteous actions” can never cover the nakedness of that part of us that we are ashamed and embarrassed about. We may feel that we haven’t done anything worthwhile and that we aren’t very high up on God’s list of important things to do, and if we only become a better Christians, He will love us more — but that is a lie straight from hell. Of course, God wants all of us to mature in faith and to do the works He did–but the purpose of all of this is so that each one of us can become a friend of God. Friendship with God should be our goal, not great works to do for Him. If we are His friend, great works will follow, simply born out of a loving relationship with Him. Our work won’t make us proud of ourselves, either. They will make us proud of Him!

I know I still have a way to go, in letting God transform my old ways of thinking and acting. I realize an important key is to not become absorbed in myself–my strengths and weaknesses, but rather, to become absorbed in Him. Where does healing come from? Where is the fountain of life that washes away all that smells of death and despair? If the world knew, how they would run to it? If the Church knew, oh how we would run to it!

I have no fancy answer to finding that healing River. The Bible says that if we believe in Him, it is flowing from our innermost being. The Bible says that it is already there! The river is all that we need. It may come manifested in healing words spoken to us by a brother or sister in the Lord. It may come from many different sources, one of the greatest is to love and pray for those around us (even those we have a problem with) the way we would like to be loved and prayed for. But most of all, it will come from one place; the Secret Place of the Highest. If you have never been to a secret place with Him–or if it has been many years, ask God to take you there, just as you are. His spirit will wash you and make you beautiful in His eyes. The more of your sin that you recognize and repent of, the more room you will have for Him in your heart — and this is something that you can never be worthy of. All He wants is for you to accept it and take the time to dwell in it. This is an act of His grace and love to you–little ordinary you. Weak and unspectacular as you are, He loves you far more than you can begin to imagine. Your life has been written in God’s History Book, and if you seek Him with all your heart, the story of your life will be one of beauty, strength, and grace.

From: Steven P. Miller @ParkermillerQ, Founder of Gatekeeper-Watchman International Groups Thursday, May 25, 2023, Jacksonville, Florida., Duval County, USA. Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/groups/Sparkermiller.JAX.FL.USA, https://www.facebook.com/StevenParkerMillerQ Instagram: steven_parker_miller_1956, Twitter: @GatekeeperWatchman1, @ParkermillerQ, https://twitter.com/StevenPMiller6 Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/gatekeeperwatchman, https://www.tumblr.com/gatekeeper-watchman, https://www.pinterest.com/GatekeeperWatchman1/ #GWIG, #GWIN, #GWINGO, #Ephraim1, #IAM, #Sparkermiller, #Eldermiller1981

[atlabeth]

everything happens for a reason part 5 - zuko x fem!reader

I can go anywhere I want, I can go anywhere just not home

part 4 | masterlist | part 6

a/n: this was hard to get going but once i got to the end the words just flowed. ive come to the conclusion that writing dialogue with katara is my favorite thing to do

warning(s): nightmare at the beginning, survivor's guilt from y/n, some internalized homophobia :-( but aside from that its mostly fluff

wc: 3.6k

chapter title comes from my tears ricochet by taylor swift!

She was trapped.

It was a prison of never ending hallways in some kind of infinite void, complete with the rank stench of death and an innate feeling of hopelessness.

Y/N knew this place. It had been the subject of her nightmares on countless occasions, because it was where she was supposed to be. She had no choice but to start down the pathway of cracked stone — she knew what awaited her, but it was the only way out. She had developed some sick sense of awareness in this nightmare and it didn’t do her any favors.

She began to walk hastily down the path, the itch of paranoia already plaguing the back of her mind. Countless times she had been here, and yet it never got better.

Before Y/N knew it, she had reached her unwanted destination. The first tangible thing in what felt like miles was a prison cell, and she pushed forward despite knowing what awaited her. It was the only way.

“It wasn’t the only way.”

She froze, inhaling sharply as the dreamscape seemed to pull her thoughts out of her mind, and she forced herself to take another step closer, the inhabitant of the cell now visible.

“You did this to me.”

It was her mother, but… not quite her. Her voice strained and stiff, a gaunt appearance with cruel eyes, hunched over in a prison cell. Any sign of the woman Y/N knew her as was gone, and it was her fault. She was the reason Kura was gone — a mother’s ultimate sacrifice because her daughter was too stuck in her head.

“How could you do this to me?” she asked. “How could you be so selfish?”

Y/N tried to respond, but she couldn’t. It was no use anyway — her words would’ve come out in broken, pleading rambles to someone who couldn’t hear a thing. She knew it was fake, she knew this was a nightmare, but it still hurt all the same.

She had imagined her mother saying those words to her so many times they had found their way into her nightmares despite knowing that Kura would never utter a single syllable true to her fears. She had all but killed her mother, and instead of remembering her for what she had done for Y/N, she appeared in her nightmares.

She was a horrible daughter.

She heard footsteps and whirled around, instinctively taking a step back and wincing as her back slammed into the bars. A tall, dark figure creeped towards her and her breath caught in her throat — as it came into the light, she recognized him as the Fire Lord.

He chuckled coldly as he neared ever closer, the path he walked turning to flames behind him. Her eyes darted around for an escape only to find that everything was on fire. It was suffocating, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think, and when she turned to look for her mother she was gone. Everything was gone, her dark void now a prison of flames.

She turned around once more and Ozai was right in front of her, the fire in his hands glowing red hot and a cruel smile on his lips.

“Did you really think you could get away that easily?”

-

She shot up in her bed, a scream on the edge of her lips but just barely managing to hold it back. Ragged breaths were ripped from her chest, her eyes shooting around wildly as she attempted to find anything at all to ground her. It took a few minutes, but with repeated mantras of it was just a dream and you are safe, she was able to calm down.

She pulled her knees to her chest and exhaled long and deep before pulling herself out of bed. It seemed that her day was going to be starting much earlier than planned.

Four years had passed since her arrival at the Northern Water Tribe, but the nightmares never ceased. It didn’t matter how many times she told herself she had done the right thing, that it was what her mother wanted, that if she stayed she would’ve died — she was constantly haunted by her past actions and memories of the Fire Nation.

She hasn’t taken off the necklace since her mother gave it to her, no matter what she does. It’s almost become a part of her now — a memory of Kura and her selflessness that knew no bounds, as well as a grim reminder of what it cost to get her here.

The Northern Water Tribe itself held countless memories of her mother — after all, it was where she had spent the first eighteen years of her life. Her name was well known throughout the tribe with nobles and elders alike, and it amazed Y/N to no end the impact that her mother left everywhere she went. She loved hearing stories about her mother and what she was like as a child, but it was always bittersweet.

She always carried an inherent sense of guilt with her because of who she lived with — her mother hadn’t been lying when she said that the necklace would get them to help her. Kura’s parents still lived in the tribe, and they had taken Y/N in after she revealed who she was. They loved her unconditionally and never made her feel like a burden, but Y/N would be lying to herself if she didn’t think they blamed her for the fate that befell her mother.

After all, she did.

She had never told anyone the full story of why she ran though. It was one thing to leave her mother behind for certain death because of the Fire Lord’s rage, it was another thing to admit that it was wholly her fault because she had fallen for a prince.

Zuko.

Not a day went by where she didn’t think of him. She still held the hope that she would see him again someday, but in lieu of travel she turned to letters.

Y/N had a shelf full of unmailed letters addressed to both Zuko and her mother — it was a way to get out her emotions whenever she was feeling particularly homesick or hopeless, and it did help at first, but after four years it had become something born out of habit rather than necessity.

She still wrote them though — Y/N had learned to hold onto any form of hope she could muster up, no matter how small, and in this moment she needed some.

She opened her shelf and rifled through piles upon piles of letters, some finished, some hardly started, and some crumpled from fits of rage, and her breath caught in her throat when her fingers brushed something different. Y/N pulled the material out and nearly started crying right then and there.

It was an unbelievably simple patch of fabric, but it meant the world to her — something that she had bought during her last night with Zuko, and one of the only pieces of material to have survived her journey to the Northern Water Tribe. She was forced to sell the rest of the fabric she had brought with her in order to make some easy money while on the run, but she had kept this as a memento. She could almost be brought back to the final sunset they shared if she looked at it for long enough.

Y/N bit down hard on her lip to stop the tears and shoved it back into the drawer before closing it and leaving her room in a haste. Sometimes she wasn’t strong enough to handle the memories.

She made her way to the living room and let out a sigh of relief when she noticed the silence. Y/N had never told her grandparents about the nightmares, and right now she just needed some time to herself. Never before was she so thankful for her grandmother’s gossiping nature and her grandfather’s work than she was in the mornings where she just wanted to be alone.

She sat down on the floor, not even bothering to get a cushion, and stared at her hands. Once smooth and untouched by the world, they were now rough and calloused with wrapped bandages resting just below her wrist. Permanent memories of what it took to get here. The ever present reminder that nothing came without a cost.

This morning seemed to be one full of yearning for the past. Y/N tried to shake her feelings off and got up once more, contemplating some steamed sea prunes before deeming it fruitless. Her appetite was lacking after her trip down memory lane.

She walked back to her room and got dressed hastily then ran out the door, but not before plucking a gift from her shelf. Today marked the birthday of a certain princess, and Y/N had to go fast if she was going to get it to her before class.

She was immediately hit by the frigid air of the North, pulling her anorak tighter around her frame as she began to run to the canals — one could always find Princess Yue there in the mornings — doing her best to avoid anyone else walking.

Y/N saw Yue just about to board one of the boats and sped up, waving one of her arms as a signal. “Yue, wait!”

She turned and her face immediately brightened up at the sight of Y/N, raising her open palm so the boatman would hold up. “Y/N! Would you like to join me?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

Yue’s nod prompted a shrug as she dropped down carefully into the gondola, taking extra care not to drop her gift, and took a seat next to her friend.

“This is a nice surprise,” Yue smiled as the boatman began to waterbend, effectively moving their gondola through the canal. “But if I might ask, what brought you here so early?”

Y/N laughed, thinking her reason for coming here obvious. “It’s your birthday, princess! What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t come to wish you well in person?”

Her smile grew even brighter, the corners of her eyes creasing up in the way that made some kind of warmth blossom in Y/N’s chest. “Thank you! That’s so sweet — I’m especially honored that you woke up early just for me.”

“Of course.” Y/N brandished the gift she had been doing her best to hide, unable to do the same for her own smile. “And here’s your gift! I sewed it all myself.”

Yue gasped as she took the creation, giving it a slight squeeze and a thorough investigation before absolutely beaming. “You made me an otter penguin— oh, you know how much I love these!”

She wrapped Y/N in a tight hug before pulling away, but it was just long enough for the heat to rush to her cheeks. “Thank you so much, really. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

Y/N beamed at the praise and nodded, shifting a little in her seat. “Oh, it’s nothing. I’m glad you like it so much.”

The two girls grinned at each other then turned their gaze to the horizon, content to spend the rest of the ride together in comfortable silence.

Her friendship with the princess of the Northern Water Tribe was something that Y/N cherished with all her heart. She could confidently say that Princess Yue was her best friend, and she hoped it was a notion that Yue shared. As beautiful as she was kind, the princess always had a way of making her feel better on the hardest days — Yue was the only one who knew the whole truth of what happened in the Fire Nation, and she offered nothing but sympathy.

Y/N honestly didn’t know what she would do without Yue. She had been her rock during the whole process of getting situated in the tribe, always lending a helping hand when she stumbled in class or was completely oblivious to something in their culture, and she never made her feel stupid, or unwanted, or less-than for what she had come from.

The only thing that confused her about Yue was the feeling she got whenever Y/N was around her. The rushes of heat to her cheeks, the warmth blossoming in her chest, and the unusual happiness she felt anytime Yue smiled at her. The most peculiar of it all was the strange tug of jealousy any time a noble boy tried to flirt with the princess, and nothing but disinterest whenever they tried an angle on her instead.

She didn’t know what any of it meant, but she had the sneaking suspicion that it was wrong. So Y/N did the only thing she could and suppressed it.

Soon enough, though much to their chagrin, Y/N had to leave. After some exchanged hugs and one last wish of happy birthday, Y/N took off for her morning healing class. But as she hurried down the icy paths, she caught sight of the most peculiar thing.

A giant flying bison was being led through the canals with a team of waterbenders, three kids that couldn’t be any older than her on its back. One had an arrow on his head and sported orange and yellow robes, while the other two looked to be of Water Tribe descent.

Her interest was irrefutably piqued, but she didn’t have any more time to waste with gawking. So she began to run once again, apologies spilling from her lips as she maneuvered through the groups of people all just as awestruck by the strange arrival as she was. Y/N made a mental note to ask Yue about it later, but for now she was running very late to her healing class.

-

Sure enough, a few hours later, Y/N was able to get the answers she had been craving. She met up with Yue outside of the palace, and during a short walk, she learned that the boy was the Avatar. He had come to the Northern Water Tribe to master waterbending, and the two kids with him were his companions from the Southern Tribe — much to her excitement, the girl was a waterbender.

Needless to say, Y/N was even more enthusiastic than before, and Yue made her day by confirming that they would be coming to her birthday celebration that night as honored guests. She had already talked to her father about allowing Y/N to sit with her and he had said yes, which meant that she would get to meet him and his friends in person — it just served as a reminder that Y/N had no idea what she would do without Yue.

After what felt like hours of passing the time with lost games of Pai Sho against her grandfather and failed attempts at finishing her homework, it was finally time for the banquet. Once she arrived at the front of the palace she bid goodbye to her grandparents and went to find the seat that Yue had secured for her.

She settled down in the empty spot next to what she assumed was Yue’s — it was her birthday after all, so a dramatic entrance wasn’t out of the question — and nervously glanced at the three visitors, trying to figure out how to introduce herself.

Thankfully, she was saved when the girl met her eyes and waved, offering a friendly smile. “Hi! I’m Katara; this is my brother Sokka, and that’s Aang.” She gestured in their direction with her head when she said their names and they both smiled and gave her polite nods.

She returned the sentiment gratefully. “I’m Y/N— I’m one of Princess Yue’s friends. Welcome to the Northern Water Tribe!”

“Thanks!” Aang said. “We’re here to find a master so Katara and I can master waterbending.”

“Well, you’re in luck. Master Pakku is one of the best there is, and even though he’s a total jerk, he’ll be able to teach you everything you need to know. And Katara, we have some amazing healing teachers— I can bring you along to my class tomorrow if you’re interested!”

Katara’s eyes lit up. “You’re a waterbender too?” When Y/N nodded, her smile grew even bigger, though slightly wistful.

“I’d really appreciate that,” she admitted, though her brows knit together. “But I’d like to learn from Master Pakku as well.”

Y/N frowned, about to correct her, when the distinct sound of drums began to echo throughout the hall. Her displeasure immediately disappeared as she grinned at them all excitedly, gesturing with her head towards the action.

Chief Arnook stood up from his spot and their table, his low voice booming. “Tonight, we celebrate the arrival of our brother and sister from the Southern Tribe. And they have brought with them someone very special, someone whom many of us believed disappeared from the world until now… the Avatar!”

Y/N’s own applause joined a symphony of others clapping and cheering as Aang waved bashfully, and once it died down, Arnook continued. “We also celebrate my daughter’s sixteenth birthday. Princess Yue is now of marrying age!”

She grinned as Yue walked out alongside her attendants — she would never get used to her beauty. Y/N noticed the way that Sokka’s eyes widened as he stared at her, and her stomach twisted at the act for some unknown reason.

“Thank you, Father,” she said. “May the great Ocean and Moon Spirits watch over us during these troubled times!”

Arnook smiled at his daughter and directed his attention back to his people. “Now, Master Pakku and his students will perform!”

She could tell that Katara and Aang were enraptured by the bending, while Sokka’s attention was already on Yue as she walked over to sit between Sokka and Y/N.

“I’m so glad you could make it!” Yue exclaimed, greeting her friend with a short embrace.

Y/N gave her a sideways smile. “If you think that I would miss your birthday and a banquet, then I’m afraid you’re out of practice on Y/N trivia.”

The princess laughed and nodded amiably then turned her attention to Sokka, ever the diplomat.

“Hi there,” he grinned. “Sokka, Southern Water Tribe.”

Yue returned the sentiment and gave him a slight bow. “Very nice to meet you.”

As their conversation went on, Y/N found herself tuning out a bit. For whatever reason, she had to actively stop herself from rolling her eyes at Sokka’s flirting, that same feeling in her stomach coming back. She made a mental note to see a healer about her issues.

“Hey, Y/N!” She snapped out of her self-imposed trance at the sound of Katara calling her name as she gestured for her to come over. It looked like Aang had gotten up to converse with Master Pakku and Chief Arnook, so she took the invitation and switched seats.

“I can’t tell you how nice it is to finally be here,” Katara said once Y/N had settled next to her. “Back home, I’m the only waterbender. Here… it’s like paradise. It almost feels too good to be true. I mean, even seeing you is crazy — I’ve never met a waterbender my age.”

Y/N smiled, though not without a hint of sadness. “I’m sorry that it’s taken so long for you to be able to experience this. How are you the only bender left down there?”

Katara was silent for a moment, a flurry of emotions warring on her face, before she answered. “The Southern Tribe hasn’t fared half as well as the Northern Tribe during the war. We don’t have one big, huge capital like this, we’re all split up into small villages. The Fire Nation has just been relentless with their raids, and without support from the North and a lack of communication between our sister tribes in the South, they were able to wipe us all out. Except for me.”

“Spirits, Katara…” Y/N set an amiable hand on her shoulder and squeezed, hoping that her softened expression could say what her words couldn’t. “My village was invaded when I was young, too. I’m so sorry that you had to go through that.”

She nodded pensively but managed to meet her eyes with an appreciative smile. “Thank you. I’m sorry about your village as well.” Her gaze drifted off, once again taking in the view around them, and when Katara met her eyes again she seemed better. “But we’re here now, and I’m planning to take advantage of everything I can, starting with all this food. Which one of these is your favorite?”

Y/N grinned as Katara pointed at the platter of various dishes in front of them. “Oh, you’ve got to try this. See that giant crab up there? That’s what this is, and you have not lived until you have tried Northern crab.”

Conversation flowed just as easily through the rest of the night between the two girls, occasionally switching to include Sokka and Yue and eventually Aang once he returned. Between the swells of pride whenever they laughed at her jokes, getting to learn about all three of them, and the almost palpable euphoria in the air, Y/N was sure of one thing:

This was the happiest she had felt in a long time. She could only hope it would last.

-

perm tag list: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77

ehfar: @chandies-sideblog @persica27 @anzanity @randomthingssss @escapingthoughtsandsecrets @shanksfav @shephard17895

atla: @marianne1806

[i-need-entertainment]

Haikyuu!! Boys getting stuck places and having to ask you for help

Characters: Akaashi, Washio, Konoha, Kita, Suna, Ushijima, Yahaba, Iwaizumi, Futakuchi, Daishou, Numai and Iizuna

**Today has been pretty bad, but my sister, @foodacoochie gave me this idea and it made me giggle and inspired🥺🥺 thanks dude💙**

Warnings: Drugs in Washio’s but they’re for a surgery and being used responsibly and for pain, just the boys getting stuck and not being able to get out of places/things lol

Akaashi Keiji:

Akaashi had been over at your house, you guys were ‘chilling’ and what not, just wasting the Saturday away.

Your family had recently done some renovations on your house, and one of those renovations was changing all of the door nobs.

Your mom had called you downstairs to come talk to your grandmother on the phone.

You knew that you’d be on the phone for a while, so you told Akaashi to do whatever until you got back. You had been gone for 5 minutes when Akaashi needed to use the bathroom.

Luckily, you had one connected to your room!

He walked in the door, shutting it behind him before he froze at the small ‘click’ he heard.

Whipping around he immediately tried the door nob, only to groan when he realized it was locked.

From the outside.

You see, you had insisted on putting the door nob on yourself, but when you did so, you had managed to put the lock on the wrong side of the door.

And when you showed him what you did, he could distinctly remember you locking the *then open* door.

So as soon as he shut it, it locked.

He sighed as he shook his head. He had also distinctly remembered you telling him it would be at the very least 30 minutes before your grandmother would let you go, so he was going to be here awhile.

He did his business then sat on the edge of the bathtub, sitting and waiting until you came back upstairs.

When you came back up to your bedroom, you were surprised to not see Akaashi sitting on your bed where you had left him. 

You softly called his name before hearing him sigh and a defeated sounding ‘in here’ from your bathroom.

You raised an eyebrow before trying the door nob, slapping a hand over your mouth when you realized you had locked the door.

Unable to hold in your giggles, you unlocked the door, almost snorting at the deadpan look your boyfriend gave you.

Washio Tatsuki: 

**he may seem out of character, but it’s because he just got his wisdom teeth out, and as someone who has recently had that done, I know that for some people their personalities do a 180 switch**

Washio had just had his wisdom teeth removed.

At first his mom was going to take him home, but she had to go into work, so you offered to take care of him and take him home from his surgery.

When they walked Washio out into the waiting room, you hurriedly walked over to him, because as soon as the nurses let him go, he started to go down. Giggling when you struggled to hold him up.

Now, keep in mind, Washio is a big guy. He’s 6′2 with a broad build and lots of muscle, so he’s not exactly light.

Seeing as he had just had a major surgery, he was very doped up on drugs, and seeing Washio drugged up was nothing short of hilarious.

He was very clingy and very giggly, laughing at anything he found remotely amusing. A night and day difference from his usually calm and stoic demeanor. 

After you somehow managed to get him in the car, you began to drive him back to his house.

You got to his house and pulled into the drive way.

Before you could help him out of the car, you had to make sure he had a clear path to the couch where he would be sitting.

You had left the keys in the ignition and the air conditioning on because it was a hot day, and let’s face it, he wasn’t going anywhere.

Walking back out to the car you went to open his door, only for the handle not to budge.

Your brows furrowed as you tried to open it, looking to the inside of the door only to see all of the doors locked.

...uh oh..

You knocked on the glass, gaining the attention of a very drowsy looking Washio who just lazily waved when he saw you.

You, who had no way to actually get to him, started frantically pointing to the unlock button, him looking at you like you had grown 3 heads.

He finally tried the door handle, only to find it didn’t open.

You could faintly make out the words ‘i’m stuck’, when he realized he was ‘stuck in the car’.

You watched as he grew more and more frustrated with the door not opening.

You were pointing to the unlock button, him then pressing every button except for the unlock button.

Thankfully, he pressed the window button, rolling it down so you could reach your hand in and unlock the door, finally being able to help him inside.

Konoha Akinori:

Not everyone knows this about your boyfriend, but he is very competitive.

He just so happens to have a younger sister, who is also very competitive.

On this particular day you had been over at his house, his sister had been in the living room with you guys when a movie about dancing or whatever came on.

Konoha jokingly scoffed when the ballerina did the splits, stating that “I could do that” while you rolled your eyes, but his sister laughed, “Yeah okay boomer.” 

Glaring Konoha turned towards his sister, who simply narrowed her eyes back at him, “What was that?” She stood her ground, you nervously watching from the sidelines.

“Boomer, and I stand by it. You have the flexibility of an 80 year old man.” He narrowed his eyes at her before he laughed, standing up and walking to the middle of the floor.

Without any warning he, albeit slowly, fell into the splits, cringing when he got like 5 inches away, entire body shaking.

“s-see?” His sister was laughing as he stayed there, high pitched sounds of pain escaping him.

He, finding himself unable to stand or move for that matter, continued to suffer, heavily contemplating every decision he had ever made.

“y/N, hELp”

Kita Shinsuke:

Kita was very responsible, so you never had to worry about him getting himself into silly situations he couldn’t get himself out of.

But, everyone has their moments.

You and Kita were spending the day with his grandmother!

You guys had gone through old photo books, and made some desserts, now she wanted to teach you and Kita how to finger knit!

It seemed easy enough, and in no time you had gotten the hang of it and were on your way.

Kita however, was having a little more trouble.

He had gotten how to wrap it around his fingers and how to pull it but...

Somewhere along with way, he messed up.

And he messed up bad.

He didn’t really know how it happened, but before he was aware of it his fingers were caught in a tangled web of yarn, somehow he managed to knot both of his hands together, eye brows furrowed as he looked down to his hands.

You held in your laughter when you saw him, hopelessly caught in strings, as he tried to figure out how to get out of them.

It took 20 minutes and both you and granny to release him from his self-made prison.

He stuck to a different activity after that.

Suna Rintaro:

You had a big project coming up, but your boyfriend did not, and wanted to hang out with you.

You, who also wanted to hang out with him, let him as long as he let you work.

He promised he would cause no such distraction and be like a fly on the wall.

That doesn’t mean you believed him, but it was nice he made an effort.

Anyway, after just under an hour he got bored just scrolling through instagram.

So, he got up from his position on your bed and sauntered over to your vanity where he sat.

You didn’t pay him much mind, he was 16 so it’s not like you had to babysit him.

Er- you shouldn’t have to babysit him.

Fiddling around with the things on your desk, he stumbled across the small dish you kept your rings in.

There was one ring in particular that really stuck out to him.

It had a silver band and a dark blue gem, it was really pretty. He remembered you saying you didn’t wear it often, but he couldn’t remember why so he just shrugged and slipped it on his left middle finger.

He had been holding his hand up, looking at it, cause it really was a pretty ring.

All was fine, all was nice, until he tried to remove the ring. Then, some problems were presented.

The most prevalent of those problems being the ring was stuck, like really stuck.

And the second being he remembered why you didn’t wear the ring a lot, it was a size too small, for you.

So it was much too small for him.

Claiming defeat he called your name, defeatedly holding up his hand, and cringing as you called his name.

Ushijima Wakatoshi:

The team had finished practice and were fooling around in the locker room, making stupid bets and doing stupid things

Underestimating just how competitive (and curious) their captain was, Tendo and Yamagata bet 25 dollars Ushijima couldn’t get into a locker, Kawanishi and Shirabu each bet 35 dollars saying he could, and Reon bet 45 saying he would get stuck.

Being genuinely curious what would happen, and being heavily encouraged by his teammates, Semi found an empty locker, rigging it open before ushering the ace in.

It was quite small, and not a comfortable experience at all, but he was also never one to turn down a challenge.

So after some major manipulation and hitting his head, he got fully into the locker.

Tendo and Yamagata forked over their 25 dollars, imploring Reon to do the same before Reon shook his head.

“Let’s see if he can get out before I pay my money.”

All eyes were back on the ace, whose eye brows were furrowed in...concern.

He was stuck.

Bad.

Not wanting to face the wrath of the demon coach, they called the next best candidate to deal with this kind of situation, Ushijima’s girlfriend, you.

Your jaw dropped when Semi told you that your boyfriend was stuck in a locker because...hOw?!?!

Reon made a lot of money that day~

Yahaba Shigeru:

He had been over at your house and the two of you were taking a nap in your bed.

You had both since woken up, and were now on your phones.

You, still very sleepy, weren’t paying attention and before you or Yahaba could stop it your phone had slipped down the crack between your bed and the wall.

You groaned as you dragged your hand down your face, Yahaba, being the wonderful boyfriend he is, offered to get it for you.

He laid on his side as you used his phone to shine the flashlight down the side of your bed.

He stuck his arm down, but it was just barely too short.

Without realizing it he had slipped to the very small edge of the bed, inevitably slipping off only to be caught between the wall and your bed.

He groaned as he felt like he had been stuck to a wooden plank, unable to move any parts of his body.

You felt terrible, seeing as he had offered to get your phone for you and had proceeded to get himself stuck.

You grabbed his arm and shifted yourself to the opposite side of your bed, and after lots of tugging and sounds of pain from your boyfriend, you were able to roll him back onto the bed.

You rolled your eyes with a smile as he waved your phone in the air, a dorky smile on his lips as he had, despite being put in a very uncomfortable situation, managed to get your phone.

Iwaizumi Hajime:

Hanamaki had bought this bag of ‘tricks’ from the dollar store, for fun and what not.

One of the things that had been in there was a Chinese finger trap.

He brought a few of the things into his bag, hoping to trick at least one of the members.

But most of all he wanted to trick Iwaizumi, if nothing else he thought it would be funny.

So, when the Seijoh 3rd years met for lunch in the club room, and you, Iwiazumi’s girlfriend had of course joined them, he decided then was the perfect time to try.

“Yo, Iwaizumi! C’mere!” Iwaizumi, recognizing the teasing tone in Hanamaki’s voice, was instantly on guard, expecting something crazy to be suggested.

“What?” Hanamaki smiled, pulling the finger trap out of his bag, Iwaizumi looked at it, raising an eyebrow at the wing spiker.

“I heard no one has ever been able to put two fingers in this at the same time without getting trapped.” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, grabbing the trap from Hanamaki and mindlessly stuck on finger in each end of the trap.

Just a few seconds prior, you had looked over Hanamaki’s shoulder, recognizing the trap, but before you could warn your dear boyfriend, he had already stuck his fingers in the trap, and pulled it, tight.

“Hajime...do you know what that is?” He shook his head, eyebrows furrowing when he tried to pull his fingers out, only to have the trap get tighter. 

“Hajime, it’s a Chinese finger trap!!” Iwaizumi’s eyes widened before he turned his head to glare at Hanamaki, curses ready on his tongue as Hanamaki and Matsukawa just about died of laughter, Kunimi snickering in the background.

It took 4 people and approximately 7 minutes to free him from the trap.

Futakuchi Kenji: **in tribute to my dear sister who locked herself out of her bathroom today🥰**

You and Futakuchi had gone to the beach with your family for the weekend, and the two of you were relaxing on the beach.

The beach had these lounge chairs, the ones that fold?

Well, you and Futakuchi were getting everything set up, he had just finished setting up the umbrella and you had laid out a large towel and set the bags down.

You guys both sat down and enjoyed the warm sun, and relaxed to the sound of the waves crashing on the shore.

About an hour later, Futakuchi decided he wanted a drink, and after asking what you wanted he left on his way.

Unknown to him, these chairs were really tricky.

They were good chairs and really comfortable, but you had to be careful how you sat in them.

After about 10 minutes he returned with the drinks, setting them down on the small cooler.

He went to sit on the lounge chair, expect that he more like flopped onto it, and before he could react the thing had snapped in two, you sitting up after hearing your boyfriend yelp.

You turned your head to see your boyfriend, squished in half by the lounge chair, with no signs of being freed.

After recruiting the help of your dad and a few kind passerby's, you were eventually able to free him of the lounge chair...

but that was after you took a picture and sent it to Aone.

Daishou Suguru:

You and Daishou had been on a date, nothing too fancy, just strolling around the city and what not.

You were just talking about random things when your eye spotted an empty park nearby.

You smirked as you nodded towards it, dragging your boyfriend towards it, you knew he couldn’t resist you if he tried.

You two were just fooling around, him chasing you around and you evading him like you both were 5 and it was ‘boys vs girls’ tag.

You had ran away from him when you spotted the set of toddler swings, y’know, those ones with the leg holes?

Yeah, those ones~

Anyway, you decided not to get in one because ✨danger✨

But your boyfriend took that as a challenge.

Without warning he grabbed the chains and jumped, sliding his legs through the very small holes and sinking into the seat.

You slapped his arm as you laughed, hand on your hip as you judgmentally looked at him.

“You’re gonna get stuck, there’s no way you’re getting out of that by yourself.”

He rolled his eyes, smirk still present on his face as he started to slowly swing back and forth.

You shook your head, shifting your weight to one leg as your arms crossed in front of your chest.

“Okay then, now try to get out.”

He rolled his eyes at your tone, grabbing the chains as he tried to pull himself up.

Only to bring the seat with him.

Your eyes widened as it set in, his smirk disappearing and his own eyes widening when he realized it as well.

He was stuck.

And at that moment, some of the Nekoma boys volleyball team members just happened to be passing by.

Kuroo’s laugh rang throughout the park as you desperately tried to free your boyfriend.

Numai Kazuma:

You and Numai were hanging out at your house, it was Halloween night and you guys were just gonna chill out and watch some movies and eat candy.

But before that, you guys were going to take your younger brother out trick or treating!

Your little brother decided he wanted to be a cowboy, and his outfit came with a pair of plastic handcuffs.

You were helping your little brother get his costume on while Numai messed around with the handcuffs.

He had latched one side onto the table leg, mindlessly scrolling through his phone as he fiddled with the cuffs.

He doesn’t know what came over him, but without thinking he latched the empty side of the handcuffs onto his wrist, tightly onto his wrist.

He didn’t think much of it, until it sunk in.

Had he really just done that??

You were fixing your brother’s costume when you heard your boyfriend call your name.

“Uh, Y/n?” You hummed, continuing to work on his costume.

“Where’s the key to the handcuffs?” 

“Oh, they got thrown away with the package, that’s why I set them..over...there..Kazuma.”

You turned around to see him nervously smiling while his hand was indeed handcuffed to the coffee table.

You blanched as you remembered the trash had already been taken out, so they key was gone.

Glaring at your boyfriend you sighed, shaking your head before you started to laugh, hiding your mouth as you continued to laugh at his misfortune.

Eventually you did help him.

It took 3 tries and 4 different tools, but with the help of your dad you were able to get his wrist free of the handcuffs.

Iizuna Tsukasa:

Iizuna has 2 sisters.

1 older sister, and 1 younger sister (ayyyee middle children let’s go-)

You just so happened to be very good friends with your boyfriends sisters, and you guys often had a lot of fun together~

One of the wats you guys had fun was messing with your boyfriend.

Todays scheme: Dress Tsukasa up as a girl. Simply because you could.

And seeing as he lost a bet to you the other day, he couldn’t refuse it.

Luckily, his older sister had a dress she accidentally ordered in a size too big, it would still be snug on him, but it would do the job.

His older sister did his make up, you worked on his outfit as the youngest fixed his hair, him sitting through the whole ordeal trying not to take away too much trauma from it.

Leaving the room so he could change, you all patiently waited as he got changed into the dress, laughing at the pained noises he made as he slipped on the dress and shoes.

You couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of you as your boyfriend stumbled out of the room, heels way too small and dress uncomfortably tight.

You all snapped the pictures you needed and he sacrificed what was left of his dignity.

Waving off you three, he hobbled back into his room, kicking off the heels and attempting to pull the dress over his head.

I say attempting because as he tried to move his arms to grab it he made a very disturbing realization.

He couldn’t grab the hem of the dress...

he couldn’t even reach behind him.

He was stuck.

And the only ‘help’ he had was his sisters and his girlfriend. 

[lubdubsworld]

Change of Heart ( Taehyungx OC)

Chapter 1   Chapter 2    Chapter 3     Chapter 4     Chapter 5   Chapter 6  Chapter 7

Summary : Times are changing. After years of being oppressed, werewolves are taking a stand against humans , demanding equal rights and fair treatment. Heading the movement is Kim Taehyung, the breathtaking heir to the Kim fortune and one of the few remaining Alpha werewolves in the country. His disdain for the human race is well known and well warranted. They killed his family after all….. He wants to change the world , to put humans in their place but when his five year old daughter takes a shine to their very human neighbor , maybe he has to start with a change of heart , first.

: Pairing : Taehyung x OC / Werewolf AU!!

Genre : Romance, Explicit Content.

Warnings : story gets a little serious from now on out... there's a lot of sexism, misogyny, degradation of women , and well morally untoward actions by people ......the oc gets roped into something exploitative and wrong. She is consenting but she's also pressured. So , please remember that this is just fiction.

Chapter 8

“Rae, calm down... i didn’t mean i want you to  leave right now..” Taehyung gripped both my wrists with his hands , tugging me away from my things . When I didn’t move, he gave me a gentle nudge toward to bed, prompting me to sit down.

“You’re just-” I began angrily but he cut me off. 

“Just sit down for a second and we can talk about this.” He begged, grip gentle as he held my hands . I tried to pull my hands away but he merely linked our fingers together, squeezing gently. 

I glared at him but sat down nonetheless. He stared down at me for a second before carefully, kneeling down in front of me.

My throat went dry at that. I doubted Kim Taehyung had ever kneeled , anywhere, in his entire life. 

“I’m sorry, Rae. “ He whispered, thumb tracing circles on the back of my palm. “ I was out of line talking to you like that. I would like to think, after everything we’ve been through, we’re at least friends.”

 Someone put me out of my misery,  I closed my eyes in dejection. 

“Please don’t give me a , ‘ we’re better off as friends’ speech... Please, I absolutely cannot handle that from you right now.” I whispered. 

“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that I was out of my head when I came here just now, things were going south in the office and I was stressed out.... I swear I didn’t come here intending to talk to you about Eun Woo..... I came here to check up on you.....I just, I saw you with Jungkook and then you told me you were going to leave with him and I panicked and told you about Eun Woo. I’m sorry and I know I shouldn’t have sprung that on you. Not now, when you’re clearly still hurting.” 

I stared at him.

“You know just the right things to say, don’t you?” I shook my head.

Taehyung made a noise of impatience, scooting forward on his knees and his hands dropping to grip my waist through the thick towel wrapped around me. Suddenly aware of being just in my towel, I stopped breathing when he pressed closer, kissing the edge of my jaw. 

“I wasn’t trying to manipulate you into sleeping with me. Trust me...when I was talking to Seokjin about not wanting to mate you... I didn’t mean that I didn’t want you because I wasn’t attracted to you....I meant that I didn’t want to forcefully bring you into a world that is going to be cruel to you.” 

“I don’t know if I can believe anything you tell me anymore.” I said softly and his arms came around me, tugging me closer till he pressed his face into the curve of my breasts. 

“I’m not just anybody, Rae....You know that. Being with me isn’t the same as being anyone on the street. I.. I’m a public figure. Someone who has made his disdain for humans pretty clear.... “ He pulled back to stare at me.  He looked devastated and I felt my heart lurch treacherously again . He pressed another kiss, this time to my lips, before drawing back. 

“I know I hurt you.....but my cause is bigger than me, than anything I could want or desire. There are people out there...my people... people who have spent hundreds of years being punished for something they can’t control. And until , I o my part , until I use my wealth and power to bring some change in their lives, I don’t belong to myself.” He looked haggard , pressing his palms to his face, rubbing the exhaustion out of his eyes and I couldn’t harden my heart against the pang of sympathy that bloomed inside me. 

“I’ve never asked you to give up on your cause. Isn’t that the whole reason i came with you last night?” I reminded him and he nodded.

“Yes...and look how that left you. “ He shook his head, “ I wasn’t even rough , Rae. I felt like a bull in a fucking china shop, touching you. So scared of breaking something, so fucking terrified I was going to hurt you ....It drove me fucking crazy...”

I stared at him in disbelief , reaching out and cupping his cheeks, forcing him to stare at me. .

“ Stop that. You did not hurt me. I’m not as fragile as you think... You’re hardly the first alpha wolf I’ve had sex with...” I said sharply and he groaned. 

“I know... Fuck, I know that... It’s just....My instincts get so jumbled with you. I want to make love to you, to make you feel good …But I also want to protect you and keep you safe and it feels like i can’t do both...” 

“You and I...we aren’t that different. What feels good for you feels good for me too...” I protested. 

Taehyung gave me a helpless look. 

“I was raised this way. I haven’t ever seen my friends and family treat humans with anything but wariness and fear. My family ..... My father and mother, they ....” He hesitated. “ They turned a five year old human child, because she was dying. She was dying and her mother begged them to save their daughter. My dad gave her the bite ..... The girl survived and she was a wolf, yes but she lived. Do you know what your kind did? They said what he did was illegal , and they put my dad on trial and sent my parents to prison for it. “

I stared at him, wide eyed. 

“My parents didn’t last a month. They died in a fucking dungeon because humans think its better for a five year old girl to die than be one of us. I lost my parents when I was eight years old because humans cannot fathom the idea of someone being different.....” 

“Taehyung, I am so sorry... i didn’t know..... “ I said quietly.

“I’m not saying that has anything to do with you. I’m not ignorant enough to blame every human I meet for something that happened a whole two decades ago. I know things have changed....that the world today is vastly different from how it was back then... but can you imagine what would happen if I started this thing with you? “ He sighed, shaking his head.

“Taehyung, what are you saying?” I asked , too tired to process what he was saying.   I could feel a headache coming on, strong and almost debilitating in its intensity .                                                                                                             

“ I  like you.... I would love to get to know you better.... Watching you with my daughter...fuck... I’ve never seen her so happy..... I would like nothing more than to give her a family.... but the people I live with. The friends I meet for dinners, the guys I hang out with for drinks....they don’t trust humans. They’re powerful men who have seen first hand how cruel humans can be and they’re not going to give up years of conditioning, just because my wolf chose to imprint on a human.”

I stared at him, not even sure what to say. 

“Taehyung, I haven’t hidden how I feel about you. I’m not ignorant about what its like between your kind and mine. I live in the preserve. You think I don’t know what it’s like to be a human in a community of werwolves? I know how people look at me, how they see humans in general. If we did this....I would never blame  you  for the way others treat me.” I told him, heart breaking because he had clearly  thought  about this. Thought about this enough for him to feel bad about the mere possibility of me being hurt. 

Taehyung shook his head in protest. 

“How do you think I would feel, if I had to watch my friends treat you with anything but respect? It would drive me insane. And if you think the werewolves in the preserve are cruel to humans, you don’t even know how bad the upper class weres are... They don’t see human women as anything but a sick fetish for them to indulge themselves in. I’m not going to bring you into a world like that.....” He gave me look that was steady and unyielding, his tone brooking no argument. 

I sighed.

“Okay. “ I said softly.

He stared at me. 

“Do you hate me?”

I rolled my eyes.

“I think we can safely establish that I am incapable of hating you.” I said tiredly.

He smiled. I hesitated just a bit, before reaching out to touch his shoulders. I curled my fingers a bit, tugging him closer for a hug and he indulged me, palms stroking my back as I breathed in the alluring scent of him. 

“ When this is over.... “ Taehyung said softly, “ I hope you and i could get dinner together. I want you in my life... even if just as a friend.”

 Isn’t that just the perfect recipe for disaster,  I thought miserably. 

“I’m not going to be your friend, Kim Taehyung ssi.... I don’t hate myself that much.” I pressed a kiss to his ear. 

He hesitated. 

“What do you want to be then?” He whispered.

I shrugged, pulling back to stare at him. 

There really was no point talking in circles, was there? 

“The woman you love.” I said , holding his gaze steadily. 

His lips parted, clearly unprepared for my bluntness. 

To spare him the embarrassment of replying, I went on. 

“But i know that’s not in the cards...so i would rather we be passing acquaintances.” I shrugged. 

Taehyung gripped my knees, squeezing. 

“I’ve not been with a woman in years. My wife, “ He grimaced , a flash of hurt and betrayal in his eyes, “ She... I didn’t even like her let alone care for her. I’ve forgotten what It means to love a woman...to worry about how my actions affect her...to act in a way that makes her feel how much I care for her.....”

I bit my lips, not sure what he was implying or  if  he was even implying anything. 

" Well then,   once my dad goes to prison... You can go back to that blissful time in your life when you didn’t know that I existed. .” 

I grabbed my clothes off the bed and made to move to the bathroom 

.“Rae.... wait.” 

I stopped,  staring at him. 

I felt his fingers on my wrist, tugging me gently and I watched the way his fingers looked, so large and warm over mine. 

I could feel him staring at me but .I stayed quiet. 

There really was nothing more for me to say to him. 

“I’ve forgotten how to love a woman but...” He bit his lips.” It doesn’t mean I can’t learn again.”

I choked out a laugh. God, I hated him. 

“Don’t you dare-”

“When this is over.” He continued firmly, “ When your father is in prison, I’m not going to walk away. I don’t understand humans, I don’t relate to your kind....I can’t feel the things you do but I can learn. I can and I will. After everything you’ve done for me, it’s the least i can do for you. ”

I shook my head. 

“ Do it for yourself. Do it to be a better person. Because sometimes the greater good isn’t enough to justify hurting people who are on your side of the battlefield. “ 

He lowered his head and I pulled away gently, moving away to get dressed, 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Is he going to come pick me up? “ I asked casually, swallowing down another couple of pills. I wasn’t even in a lot of pain anymore. More a pleasant soreness all over . 

Taehyung exhaled, nodding.

“He’s ...a good guy but I still want you to tell me if he tries something....”

I turned to stare at him, eyebrows raised. 

“And what will you do? Antagonize the man who’s your only hope to bring my father down? Don’t be absurd Taehyung.. i can handle men like Eun Woo.” I turned back to the mirror. 

 I ran the brush through my hair, carefully examining my face for any stray marks or bruises. It had taken a bit of time an an extra layer of concealer but i looked relatively unmarred. 

“I just want to make sure you’re safe and-” 

“I can take care of myself.... I’m a big girl.” I smiled at him through the reflection in the mirror. . 

Although, just the fact that I was here, having this conversation with him was a fine example of how  bad  I was at taking care of myself. How I had a knack for making the worst possible choices, the kind of choices that ended with me with my heart broken over and over again because of the same damn man.  

God, I wanted to get out of this apartment. Wanted to get away from Kim Taehyung. Never wanted to see his gorgeous face again. 

“Eun Woo knows you’re my mate... He won’t....” 

My eyes snapped up to him.  

Just hearing that word made something leap inside me, something sharp and hurtful. Something that felt unbearable, an emotion that made me pulse with regret and pain and filled me with a need to sob out loud. 

i turned around and his eyes immediately flitted to mine. I knew they were a little damp. 

“Can you just...not call me that?  “ I whispered , my fingers beginning to tremble. 

Taehyung froze, staring at me with wide eyes.

“Rae...”

i closed my eyes , breathing deeply. I’d never felt so frustrated, so desperate to end things with someone and yet so incapable of doing just that  and i hated him, hated him for turning me into something so pathetic.

“Don’t call me your mate. That is not what I am and that is not how you see me. So just don’t. “ 

I tried to calm myself down. 

Taehyung didn’t reply so I went on. 

“I’m going to do this...not just for you , but for the people in that preserve. For Luna because I want her to grow up in a world where she has the chance to experience the same happiness that the rest of us do. “

“Yes, And I’m grateful..” Taehyung began but i held my hand up. 

“I’m going to do this but I’m not going to give you more than what I absolutely have to. I’m not going to let you play the besotted lover when we both know there’s no future for us that way. I need to protect my heart and I can’t do that if you keep confusing me. And that means you talk to me like you would talk to any of your friends.  ”

Taehyung just stared at me for a second before nodding sharply.

“Point taken.” He said gruffly , looking just a little annoyed.. 

 Good, I thought viciously. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We’re gonna have to get you more clothes like this, if we’re going to be together for real... ... You know the kind of life I lead...” Eun Woo commented mildly, shooting me a glance as he maneuvered the car out into traffic. He was pointing at the teal blue sheath dress I had on.  

It was pretty, spaghetti straps holding up the satiny material and molding to my body like a second skin. Taehyung had rented it out for me, and it had given me some satisfaction, watching him go slack jawed when I put it on. I was half tempted to tell him that I had won a lot of beauty pageants at my dad’s Country Club , back when I had still lived with him as a teenager. 

Over the years, I’d always dressed down, avoided make up and just not bothered too much. not because I didn’t enjoy dressing up but because it served no purpose. . Running up and down the ferry meant a lot of salty air on my hair and face and so, I had probably always looked like a drowned rat to Taehyung. 

“I have a whole closet full of branded clothes at my brother’s apartment. You don’t have to worry about me embarrassing you in public. I grew up as Jae hyun’s daughter .I know how the bougie class dresses, so please, just drive .” I was so tired, my eyes swollen although I hadn’t even cried. My heart felt like it had been wrung out . 

Eun Woo whistled.

“So you’re.... technically rich. Very rich.” There was a hint of interest there, laced with barely concerned excitement and it made my skin crawl.

I rolled my eyes. 

“I’m rich if i do exactly what my father asks me to. Which I won’t.”

Eun Woo chuckled. 

“So...this thing with Taehyung...it’s nothing huh? I mean, he’s clearly okay with you doing stuff with me.....” 

I glared at him.

“The only thing we’re going to be doing is finding out what my father’s upto.” 

He held both his hands up .

“Hey, I’m just wondering if he’ll tear my throat off if I shoot my shot.” 

I sighed, too exhausted to even entertain this conversation. 

“Don’t make this difficult.” I said tiredly and he grunted.

“He did a number on you last night, huh?” the lecherous glance he tossed my way was nauseating. 

I didn’t reply.

“Thought you were used to werewolves though...could smell that wolf on you...in the preserve.,.. Jungkook was it?”

I closed my eyes . 

Eun Woo looked handsome and elegant in his pin striped white suit and perfectly polished shoes but there was no mistaking the sheer unadulterated lust on his face when he looked at me. And the way he talked to me, like I was a hooker he had hired for the night. I suddenly understood what Taehyung had meant, when he said that wolves only looked at human women as a fetish. 

I glanced at my phone. It was a little past five. My father generally spent his evenings in his Yacht club, lounging about with his friends and scantily clad women. Eun Woo was a member too and the idea was to casually run into my father there. 

“I’m just saying...you have a thing for wolves...I’ll be more than willing to scratch that itch for you....” He was leering now and I willed myself not to scream when his fingers reached out, lightly stroking my cheek. I pulled away, bile rising in my throat. 

Feeling cheap and dirty, I dug my fingers into my thighs. 

“Thank you for the kind offer. I’ll let you know if I ever want to take you up on that.” I muttered. 

I watched as he pulled into the Yacht Club.

The Marina Yacht club was my father’s castle. It was where he held court thrice a week, all his rich and powerful bosom buddies flooding the place to get and stay in his good graces. 

Wine, Women, drugs and alcohol all topped with a healthy dose of anonymity and discretion. I stepped out into the lobby, surprised when a man called out my name.

“Mi Rae?? Is that you?” 

I felt my eyes widen when I recognized my dad’s old butler. 

“Mr. Gwan... Oh, I didn’t know you worked here?” I smiled despite myself, happily letting his wrap his hands around me in a warm hug. 

“Your father has been so kind to me.... He misses you.” The old man said softly.

I managed to return the gesture, bowing lightly.

“Is he here?”

“Out on the back terrace. A lot of his friends are here today.... Would you like to meet him?”

I nodded.

“Certainly. Could you tell him I’m here with ... Mr. Cha Eun Woo?” I smiled and looped my arm around Eun Woo’s , the latter pulling out his membership card and handing it over to Mr. Gwan with a winning smile. 

Mr Gwan bowed, leading us into the foyer which was milling with Seoul’s elite, men in polo t shirts and fitted pants and women in short summer dresses or flowery jumpsuits with huge hats. The crème de la crème of society, I thought , rolling my eyes internally. 

“Stop looking like that, doll. “ Eun Woo’s lips brushed my ear and I straightened my features, pasting a small smile as we followed Mr. Gwan, past the milling crowd and to the back, where the club opened into a beautiful terrace with a pool and a dance floor. 

Women in skimpy bikinis' lounged around the pool despite the lateness of the hour  and I saw my father, surrounded by four or five men, relaxing in the lounge chairs near the pool. They were all old and fat, my father standing out because he was always particular about staying fit and looking ten whole years younger. 

He looked surprised when he saw me, surprised but clearly pleased.

“Mirae..... And Eun Woo? What an absolute pleasure.” He stood p quickly, eyes glinting with delight when he took in my attire. 

“Good evening father.” I smiled, letting him pull me into a hug. My father turned to the men around, all of whom made no attempt to hide the way they were ogling me. 

“Gentlemen, my beautiful daughter, Mirae. And the man she’s seeing currently, I believe you’re all familiar with him. One of the finest men in the country. ” 

I tilted my head in acknowledgement, bowing lightly while Eun Woo shook hands with the men. 

“Cha Eun Woo at your service.” He drawled easily, holding a couple of fingers up and signalling a waiter to bring a couple more chairs for us. I smiled as he gave me a soft kiss on my cheeks.

“Why don’t we head over to the bar and you can pick a drink, honey?” He said , smile dazzling in its intensity.

I fluttered my lashes for effect.

“I’d love that.” I said , letting him lead me away with a quick, “ Gentlemen, a moment.” 

“That’s Taehyung’s undersecretary . The rest of them i can’t recognize but they’re all wolves. Your father’s been particularly sneaky, i see....” He whispered thoughtfully , the moment we were out of hearing distance and I blinked.

“What?” 

“That guy in the blue trunks, he’s a part of Taehyung’s cabinet. I’m sure of it.”

The bartender tapped the counter to get our attention and I startled. 

I pointed vaguely at one of the drinks and turned back to Eun Woo.

“Really? Oh my God, do you think he’s been telling my father about Taehyung’s plans?” 

Eun Woo nodded.

“That would explain things.... “

“We should tell Taehyung , he needs to fire that guy...” i said desperately and Eun Woo shook his head.

“No... we need to find out what is it that these wolves wants from your father... They’re obviously feeding him information for a price. We need to know what, although I think i have a pretty good idea.” Eun Woo smirked.

“What?” I said, curious but he shook his head, lightly kissing the tip of my nose. 

“Its a wolf thing... I’m just going to go back and lay some groundwork. You wearing a bikini underneath that dress?”

I frowned.

“Yes? Why?”

“Go to the dressing room and take your dress off. Come back and sit on my lap yeah? “

I stared at him.

“This better have something to do with ...”

“Baby, we’re running low on time. Just do as I tell you and you can be back in your TaeTae oppa’s arms in no time.....” He drawled, squeezing my hips hard and I flinched. 

He was so annoying.

But I did as he said and when I walked back to the rest of them, I saw that he was sitting a little ways off from the rest of them but close to the man in the blue trunks. The crowd had left, the gate leading to the terrace was closed and my father was nowhere to be found. 

it was just Eun Woo and the four men and the four or five women still in the pool.. They all looked at me when I got near and Eun Woo stood up waving before sitting back down. 

“Ah...Rae... Come on over!” He waved and I walked over, feeling ridiculously exposed in the electric blue string tied bikini. 

I smiled at him, casually sitting down on his lap, and letting him wrap an arm around my torso. He pressed a kiss to my cheek, my jaw and then whispered against my ear.

“Let’s give them a show.” 

I blinked, confused and then he pulled me closer, tugging me around till I was straddling him. I gripped his shoulders at the obscene position we were in , but he looked incredibly serious as he gave me a slight nod. Smiling, I lightly rolled my hips , letting the crotch of my bikini trace a small circle against the front of his slacks. He had taken off his jacket and it wasn’t that hard to get into the mood. The idiot was beautiful after all. 

“needy little thing....” Eun Woo chuckled. “ Dated a couple of betas but it wasn’t enough for her...Right baby?” 

I gave him a shy little smile, watching the men out of the corner of eyes. I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing but, i followed Eun Woo’s lead and moved when he tugged on my hips, buried my nose in his neck when his palms fluttered against my shoulder.

“Sometimes they need a knot.... can’t settle for anything less....” Eun Woo went on, laughing and i stiffened despite myself. He pinched my thigh lightly, a soft, ‘  focus’  hissed against my ear. 

I swallowed, staying still.

He lightly dipped one finger into the waistline of my bikini and i jumped. 

“There’s something exciting about fucking a human .... so helpless and fragile and yet so thirsty to get dicked down by an animal.” Eun Woo went on and the men chuckled. 

I tamped down on the urge to knee him in the crotch. 

The greater good. 

 the greater fucking good. I reminded myself. 

 i was going to strangle Kim Taehyung. 

 “ Knows when to keep her mouth shut too. It’s a rarity with human women...... Always yip tapping about shit. “ Eun Woo went on. 

“She looks amazing...” The man on the left said...

“She looks even better when I have her wrapped around my knot.” Eun Woo chuckled.

The air seemed to shift around me. 

“Uh...yeah?” One of the men said.

“Of course....gets off on it too... People watching...right baby..? I could make you take my knot, right here on this chair with all these people watching and you’d love it...wouldn’t you baby?” 

“Fuck, that would be so hot...” The man in the blue trunks whined next to me and it made my skin crawl. I couldn’t do this. Not even for Kim fucking Taehyung. 

I dug my nails into Eun Woo’s sides. I’d had enough. 

“I have a resort up the Han River.... Secluded and private. Mr Yoon told me you guys have some sort of deal to finish up? Why not schedule it at my place.... Dinner and a show” Eun Woo squeezed my thighs hard making me yelp, “ My treat.” 

The men whispered excitedly.

“That sounds good. The seventeenth of this month. We have a ... meeting with a few associates. We’d require a lot of privacy . “ 

Eun woo hummed.

“Done. And sweet Rae and I will be there to take care of the entertainment . Now if you’ll excuse me gentlemen, I have a few more pressing engagements.”

He spanked my thigh and I sat up, slowly climbing off him. He wrapped his arm around my waist , and I looked anywhere but at the men, bowing awkwardly as I let him lead me away from the terrace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ow...Ow... Ow.. What the fuck..stop!” Eun Woo grabbed my wrists stopping me from raining more punches on him. 

“That was so fucking embarrassing you fucking pervert!!” I hissed and he gripped my wrists harder, so hard that I winced.

“I know!!!  just calm the fuck down. At least we know when they’re meeting the damn dealers. And it’ll be on our turf. “ He said angrily. 

I glared at him.

“So what , the cops can just walk in and arrest them...??” I stared at him in disbelief. 

it seemed so easy. 

“If they’re caught with the drug, yeah.” Eun Woo shrugged, “ Taehyung already has plenty of evidence linking your father to the drug,....all he needs is the physical record of your father in contact with the dealers. And if your father’s there on seventeenth its going to be a walk in the park. All we need to do is...well... possibly fuck in front of them.” 

I felt my jaw drop.

“I am not fucking you... not even if the survival of the entire human race depended on it.” I hissed.

“Relax, babe... It doesn’t have to be all the way through... beta werewolves don’t have a knot so these bastards get turned on watching alphas knot a woman... that's all it is... We give them that and they’re gonna play right into our hands.....” Eun Woo shrugged. 

“That is so gross...” I fought the urge to retch. 

“ We also feed some sort of nonsense to that undersecretary of his.. maybe a false raid elsewhere so these idiots have their guard down. it’ll be easy. “ Eun Woo shrugged

I groaned.

But I had to admit that Taehyung was right. Cha Eun Woo was a smart bastard. 

“And that's the best way to do this? I need to... pretend to have sex with you...” I tasted bile in my throat.

Eun woo smiled.

“For the greater good , baby.” 

i groaned. 

I hated werewolves. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : Shit’s about to go down in the next chapter !! lemme know what you guys thought :D 

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[the-insomniac-emporium]

Crimson Ties (Bela Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 2

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village

Rating: T for language and mild medical drama

Warnings: Typical Vampire shenanigans

Genre: Hurt + comfort

Summary: Bela is somewhat unprepared to deal with a soulmate who has no clue about her condition, her family, or any of the village's secrets. Thankfully, her sister Cassandra is more than willing to be a bad example. Also there's some fluff.

Notes: For reference, each of my soulmate stories take place in their own contained timeline, since they each involve different types of soulmates. So in this one, Cass doesn't currently have a soulmate.

Previous Chapters: 1: Stem the Flow

2: Tangled Strands

A gentle humming fills the space around you, as fingers slowly run through your hair. As far as you can tell you had fallen back asleep, for several hours, and you were just now waking back up. No longer holding you down, your soulmate is curled up next to you. There’s still a needle in your arm, much to your irritation, but now you can finally see what it’s connected to: An IV for a transfusion. Explains why I’m feeling so much better than before, you think. Then you’re turning your head to the other side, eager to finally get a good look at your soulmate. Instantly you’re blushing, tongue tying itself into a knot, because wow are you lucky.

“Feeling any better?” She asked, as soon as your gaze met hers. You try to stutter out a confirmation, but you’re too distracted by the soft curve of her smile to speak, and barely even manage a nod. That beautiful smile grows wider in response. “Good. I couldn’t stand the thought of you suffering more, after what you’ve already been through.” Now her smile fades, and she looks away for a few moments. Watching it makes your heart ache. So you swallow the lump in your throat, willing yourself to relax, before trying a little comforting of your own.

“I am safe now, am I not? Moreso, we have too much to talk about for us to dwell on the ill circumstances of our introduction. Let us cherish this time, in respite, with our hearts open wide to one another,” you said, donning your softest smile. Somehow your words fulfill their purpose, and your soulmate is once again grinning. Slowly she leans forward to rest her forehead against yours. Then she’s speaking, voice as smooth as the sheets you lay on.

“You are right, of course. I simply wish I could have saved you sooner,” she replied, tone betraying the sadness that her expression otherwise hid. Before you can protest, she continues talking, and you soon forget all about your qualms. “To think I don’t even know your name yet… nor you mine, I suppose. Let’s remedy that, yes? I am Bela Dimitrescu.” Something about her last name feels familiar to you, but not to the point of clear recognition. Instead of inquiring, you return her favor, giving her your own name. She repeats it back a few times, letting the syllables roll off her tongue, and you feel your heart skip a few beats. “A lovely name for a lovely soul, perfectly paired.”

A pause, followed by Bela reaching out to examine your IV. Following her gaze, you turn to the metal hook adjacent to the bed, where a blood bag hangs. Only a few drops remain inside. Just as when you first awoke, Bela gives a soft hum, then rises into a sitting position. Your first instinct is to copy the motion, and you’re relieved when (this time) she doesn’t push you back down. Both of you quietly inch your hands closer until they’re laid on top of each other.

“I wish I knew more about medicine, but unfortunately my family is more experienced in the creation of wounds than the treatment of them,” Bela said, scowling. Confused, you tilt your head at a slight angle, watching her with interest. Am I supposed to know who she’s referring to? My memories of the past couple days are still hazy, you think. “Do… do you remember how you ended up in the dungeon? I know you wanted to speak of happier things, and we can, soon. It’s just… Knowing how you arrived here may help me deal with the consequences of freeing you. Mother will be dreadfully upset that I’ve interrupted a draining, even if we are soulmates.”

“Wait, are you saying…? The intimidating giantess who strung me up and attempted to bleed me dry… is your mother?” You asked, jaw nearly dropping to the floor. This was an unexpected development, for sure.

“You didn’t know?” Bela replied, eyes going wide for a moment. Clearly she wouldn’t have said anything if she realized you weren’t already aware. Suddenly the tension in the room is palpable, with an uncomfortable silence overtaking the two of you. In the moment, you cannot even bring yourself to look at Bela, too stunned by this new knowledge. Eventually she breaks the silence, voice sounding unsure for once. “I realize that this is a lot to take in, if you need time to process it, I… I can go. But you need to understand that our situation is far more complicated than it might appear. We cannot survive without the blood of others- it is what sustains us when nothing else can.”

Now you’re staring at her like she’s crazy, and she’s standing up, moving to the other side of the room. She draws back a curtain, gazing out into the snow covered hills. Every muscle in your body is urging you to run while she’s distracted. Thread of fate be damned, this went far beyond anything you had ever imagined having to deal with. You come so close to ripping the IV right out of your arm. But a gentle tug on your soul string makes you pause, remembering all the times this bond gave you hope in dark times. Had she felt the same way, all these years? What had she gone through, in this absurd castle, on the very edges of civilization? You pull on the red thread, feeling a wave of composure wash over you.

“It appears there is much I need to learn. But is that not the very nature of our connection? We know, simply, that we are bound to each other, though we know not what shapes our souls take so that we might put them together, nor even what roles we must play. I cannot say that I understand your plight, my dear, but I will try, as is my obligation, and my honor,” you said, wishing you could hold her, and cursing your IV. As soon as the first word leaves your mouth, Bela is turning around, watching you with a bittersweet expression. Once you’re done she’s moving closer, as if reading your mind, extending a hand to cup your cheek. Then she leans forward to press a brief kiss to your forehead. “Oh, how I have longed for this- to be with you, to get to know you.”

“As did I,” she murmured. You can’t help but lean into her touch, closing your eyes and enjoying the moment. “Perhaps I should introduce you to my family? I imagine you’ll be needing breakfast anyway, and bringing human food back to my quarters would raise more suspicion than I’d like.” Well, the moment couldn’t last forever, could it?

“Only if you promise that your mother won’t suspend me by my wrists again. Or by any other part of me. Shall we simply put suspension off the table altogether?” You asked, half teasing. To be entirely honest, you were equally worried about Bela’s sisters. Well, the people you had heard other prisoners whispering about, who were the daughters of the giantess, and by connecting a few dots were also, presumably, Bela’s sisters. Apparently they preferred to play with their food. Unless, of course, Bela was one of the daughters you had heard about, and would have easily torn into you if not for your connection. Let’s not dwell on that concept, you think, glad to be distracted by your soulmate.

“I will not let anyone harm you anymore, my beloved. My mother would not stand so firmly in the way of my happiness,” Bela reassured, though you detected a hint of uncertainty in her tone. Still, there wasn’t much you could do other than trust her. “Now, let me take care of your bandages, then we’ll head downstairs…”

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

“Who the fuck is this?” An unfamiliar voice asked, as you meandered down the corridor, arm around Bela for support. As soon as she hears the person speak, your soulmate is freezing in place, casting a worried glance over her shoulder. When you turn as well, you spot someone dressed almost identically to Bela. However, the woman wears a yellow pendant, as opposed to a red one, and her hair is a dark brown. It feels safe to assume that she’s one of the sisters you’ve heard about. Which understandably makes you nervous, to the point where you almost want to hide behind Bela. Instead, you stand tall, attempting to seem unfazed by either her presence or her vulgarity.

“Mind your manners, Cassandra,” Bela hissed, taking more of an aggressive stance than you had anticipated. “This, dear sister, is my soulmate. And if you even think about harming them, or getting in our way, I will tear you apart.” While you’re downright shocked at the intensity of Bela’s statement, her sister doesn’t look at all impressed, and eyes you with minimal interest. Better than looking at you with hatred, right? Apparently not, as Bela moves to stand between the two of you, eyes narrowed. There’s a clear stiffness in her posture that leaves you anxious. Cassandra seems to notice it as well, and laughs, before taking a few steps in your direction. Then your soulmate mimics the movement, forcing you to do so as well.

“They’re human,” Cassandra snapped, pausing to sniff the air and scowl. “Here I thought your soulmate would have to be special, if they’re to compare to your ego. You’re disappointed, aren’t you? Having to settle for this.” With that she shifts, flesh writhing, making your stomach churn as you watch her disintegrate into a cloud of… flies? What the hell is wrong with this family? Can Bela do that too? I hope not, you think. Soon you’re pulled from your thoughts, however, as the swarm circles around you, single insects occasionally surging forward to cut at your skin. But Bela is grabbing you by the sleeve and tugging you to her chest, moving against a wall so that her body shielded your own. Your eyes clamp shut as you shake in her arms. When the buzzing stops, it is quickly replaced with cruel laughter. “That fragile, hmm? I can’t wait to see what mother thinks. See you at breakfast, sister!”

Then the two of you are alone, still pressed against the wall, staying still until the sound of footsteps fade. You’re stunned, unsure of how to react. The fact that a few drops of blood roll down your cheek only makes things worse. Still, Bela managed to prevent you from getting too hurt, and the few wounds on your body are negligible. Ever filled with gratitude, you hold her close as you try to stutter out a few sentences.

“Is she always this hostile, or am I truly not what you had expected? No, pay me no mind, it hardly matters. Thank you for protecting me,” you whispered. In response, Bela gives you a little squeeze, then pulls back enough to wipe the blood from your face. There’s a hint of something odd in her expression, which you interpret to be related to her apparent ‘need for blood’. Thankfully, she is in perfect control, and does not frenzy the same way you had read about fictional vampires doing. But she does hesitate, words dying on her tongue, like there are a thousand things she wants to say, and no words to say them with. “It’s alright, my dear. Let’s just go to breakfast, like we planned, and hope your sister behaves better when supervised.”

Bela nods, quickly, before taking your hand in her own. Whatever awaited you in the dining room, the two of you would be ready. Hopefully.