#it is what is underneath the Talon he lets other people see

[thenationofzaun]

Underneath the joke here, there is actually something compelling to be explored. The idea of "Jinx" being so notorious that she's mythologized. The myth being a hyper exaggeration of all her infamous traits, until it strays far from what the real Jinx is actually like. A spin on the whole "League of Legends" thing. The show did attempt to play into this theme with the openings. The way Season 1's opening depicts statues carved of stone, showing them as heroes and legendary figures, then Season 2's opening depicts them as human, stripped down to their underclothes. But the show could have done much more with this than a simple joke about an enforcer thinking the real criminal mastermind would never wear circus pants.

Imagine people telling stories of the dangerous criminal Jinx, but exaggerating certain details about her. Saying her nails are long and pointed as talons, her braids drag behind her on the ground, her teeth are sharp as a shark's, her bullets never miss, she is utterly without feeling or mercy, a spectre come to haunt and destroy Piltover. Imagine Piltovians viewing her as a horror story, and Zaunites viewing her as a dark hero, their vengeance against Piltover. Of course, the real Jinx likes painting her nails bright pink, let her father braid her pigtails, has a small tooth gap, misses her shots often, and feels way too much. The idea of both cities taking this girl and turning her into a legend, stripping away all her human qualities and projecting all their own fears and desires onto her is so interesting. Jinx, Piltover's ruin and Jinx, Zaun's revenge. Instead of Jinx the human.

Imagine Jayce meeting her. He never met her in the entire show's run which I feel is a missed opportunity. She was the catalyst of so much of his story in Season 1. It was her who broke into his lab, stole his gemstone and research. She defaced his entire lab, putting her grafitti and monkey symbols everywhere to taunt him. He spent the entirety of Season 1 worried sick that she would find a way to weaponize the gemstone. Her massacre of the enforcers on the bridge traumatized and sickened him. He demanded that she be locked up in exchange for Zaun's independence. I wonder how he imagines her? Does he picture a grown woman? Someone his age or older? Someone devoid of emotion or humanity? Imagine if he finally met her, this person who has caused him so much distress, and he sees an ill teenage girl. Baby fat on her cheeks and chipped nail polish.

Vi's story could have mirrored this too, losing her own identity while her sister sinks herself into her "Jinx" persona. Feeling abandoned and betrayed by Zaun, she rejects it and falls into Caitlyn's (Piltover's) arms. Becoming absorbed and assimilated into the city, losing connection to her real roots. Piltover taking advantage of her strength and exploiting it against Zaun. Turning her into their weapon, one of their enforcers. Using her as a diversity hire, the token trencher to prove how kind and not at all oppressive the enforcers are. Vi losing her own humanity as she makes The Piltover Enforcer her new identity and lets herself be engulfed by it, the way her sister does with her Jinx identity. Both cities taking these sisters and turning them into symbols. The sisters being dehumanized but letting it happen because they feel they have no other path or that they deserve it. But underneath Jinx and Piltover's Enforcer, are two broken young women.

[writerfae]

With three characters that play an instrument, is that relevant in the story at some point? have you got a musician AU? - @vampywriter

Hi @vampywriter! ^^

It is not really relevant for the story, it’s more of a backstory/worldbuilding thing.

Many children of fair fae nobility learn to play an instrument as part of their education. But especially in Talon’s family music has a high value, that’s why every child from the household plays an instrument.

Talon’s mother grew up at the Aspen court, a court where all kinds of art are extremely valued. Her family was pretty musical, her brother for example was a bard at the queen’s court.

So she grew up loving music and she passed that on to her children, it was important to her that they learn to make use of their family’s talent.

And Sera and Talon both are very talented, they used to play a lot together. Talon regularly moved his parents’ visitors to tears with his music.

He loves playing the violin, though he doesn’t do it that often anymore since his sister left to another court.

The main reason for Maya to be taught an instrument was to give Talon another partner to make music with, his mother hoped it would make him play more often again.

Long story short (I excuse the ramble), then playing instruments isn’t relevant to the plot, but it’s a relevant part of Talon’s character at least.

It makes him happy. And if his brother wouldn’t have died, he probably would’ve become a bard like his uncle.

.

I actually have a band au in which the main four have a band together! I like musician too much to not make one xD

Beside the violin, Talon mainly plays guitar (bass?) there and Maya too plays a different instrument. Also Halea plays drums and Aiden is lead singer in this scenario.

I didn’t make a lot of content for it yet, but it’s fun to play around with and I do have some headcanons and a playlist!

I also have an au where Talon is a singer but I never talk about that one cause it’s super angsty and depressing 🙈

[takami-takami]

Accidents.

includes— hawks x reader. minors dni. suggestive.

warnings— daddy kink. predator/prey undertones. keigo being a meanie.

You wish the ground would just swallow you whole before his smug look does.

"Don't let it get to your head! Keigo—" You squeak, covering your own face with one hand and pushing his away with the other. Your palm does nothing to quell the mischievous laughing fit that your boyfriend doesn't seem to have the courtesy nor self control to keep to himself.

Don't let it get to his head? His head couldn't be any bigger in this moment.

He seizes the opening to situate himself on top of you with ease, keeping you caged beneath him so he can bear witness to the full extent of your misery. Your hands lie helpless, locked under his hold and pinned above your head to leave you wide open. He wants nothing obstructing his view of your dreadfully desperate squirms.

He considers locking your legs in place beneath his, too. It wouldn't be difficult at all to overpower you, but the butterfly kicks behind his back that ruffle the sheets beneath are just too delicious to watch.

Your bedroom has become a locked box of your whimpers and flails, and he loves it. What he wouldn't give to cage you here and throw away the key.

"Keigo...? Sorry, dunno who that is." His eyes roll in time with his shoulders, while that wicked grin never falters.

"Could've sworn you were just calling me something else," he sings above you. He purses his lips like he just can't catch his thought. Bastard. You'd be screaming into your hands if you had access to them. "What was it you said... What was it..." he hums a devilish, giddy tune, turning to catch your eye.

"Care to remind me?"

"You're an asshole!"

"No, that's not quite what you called me."

You huff in response, opting to stare at the ceiling behind him. Anywhere but that stupid, god-awful, pretty face of his. Maybe if you try to pull your wrists free, he'd take pity on you and— nope, still not giving an inch of leeway.

He notices your weak attempt. Poor thing, he thinks. You don't actually think there's anywhere to run, do you? Your halfhearted flailing underneath him is cute though, he'll give you that. So cute. Almost as cute as your little slip-up that got you into this fucking mess.

This is your mess, you know. You did start it, after all, and who is Keigo if not a man who finishes the job? It'd be criminal to not keep this game going for as long as it'll take to satisfy his instinct to torment you.

He's not a sadist, he swears.

He just knows prey when he sees it.

"Kei', I didn't— can you please just let this go?" You finally look at him with those puppy dog eyes. In another circumstance, they would get him to do whatever you want; but for once, he decides to be selfish. He's just having too much fun.

"Why should I? Don't tell me you're embarassed," he posits, as if you aren't the picture of shame incarnate beneath him. "Nothin' to be embarassed about, doll." He closes the gap between you, nose barely brushing the line of your jaw before he dares to have a taste. "Plenty of people would jump at the oppurtunity to call me da—"

"Hawks!"

"Oooh, yet another name and you still won't repeat the one from earlier. Gonna hurt my feelings, baby." Raptor eyes zero in on the juncture of your neck. When you strain to turn your head away from him, you leave your jugular completely exposed. He sighs. You're fucking helpless. He supposes that's why he's the pro hero, and you're just the little hare captured betwixt his talons. 

With a finality settling in his gut, he latches on and sinks his canines into you. You go limp below with the hitch of a breath, kicks slowing to a halt.

"You know, I think I like this." When his hands release yours, he's sure your muscles won't even twitch. Frozen under his spell, you are the moth to his proverbial flame; the rabbit in his headlights.

"I think that name is already one of my favorites. You'll say it again for me, won't you? Tell me..."

"Who's your fucking daddy?"

[bluiex]

(x.x Now I'm just brain rotting over monsterfucker Scar with watcher!Grian. (Slight body horror warning? But not much) I might continue this & make it spicier but for now…)

.

"Oh my, it sure is dark outside tonight. I can barely see a thing in this super scary forest!"

Scar pauses for effect, scanning the trees with an eager grin.

"It would be a shame if something attacked me in the dark right about now. I could easily be pinned down by, say, an overgrown bird."

He waits for any sort of sign of life from the forest and lets out a pointed sigh.

And then, out of the corner of his eye, he sees a flash of purple. Anticipation runs up his spine and he takes a sharp breath–

"Scar."

"–You sure took your time," he purrs back, facing Grian with a teasing laugh. The man almost looked mortal right now; he could be mistaken for any old parrot hybrid, if you weren't too knowledgeable in that world. Unthreatening feathers lined his collar and his pretty wings were more stunning than intimidating.

But Scar could taste the pure, unfiltered, violent power emanating from the almost-human shell he barely fit into.

"Because I'm not interested in whatever game you're playing," Grian scoffs. "I don't know why you're so insistent on seeing my you-know-what form. It's not the most flattering thing."

"You could have me on my knees in any form, songbird," Scar replies, tucking his hands behind his back. "Would'ya feel better if I told you it was a Vex thing?"

"No. I know it's not. You feed off enough of my power as is, I'm not trying to ruin you."

Scar nods, solemn. "Hm, real shame, and here I was offering myself to be ruined. Well! I can go visit someone else then."

And the bait finally snags.

"Someone else?" Grian snaps to attention, an odd glow to his eyes. "You stop that, mister. I know your game. There isn't anyone else."

Scar snorts. "Really? 'Cause I was just parading myself around for a good while there. If you're not worth my time I'm not going to drag this out any longer. You're hardly the only other powerful being on this server."

He mutters a couple names and base locations to himself and turns on his heel without a glance back. He can feel Grian's growing possessiveness, and it's exactly what he wants.

"If you're really not interested I'll just be on my way. It's a good thing we live so close to–"

He catches the sound of a twig snapping behind him, and before he's even realized it his back is up against the bark of some nearby tree.

"Don't move," Grian snarls, but there's no real anger behind his words. It's less emotional and more… animalistic. Scar swallows, though his smirk doesn't waver for a second.

"Fine, Scar, fine. You win, okay? You're the worst."

Under the sliver of moonlight as his only light source, Scar sees something shift in his lover. And he can only feel restlessness growing under his own skin.

To put his awe into words would be an impossible task.

Grian's wings… split. It's far from gruesome– or maybe it is, and Scar's just understandably numb to these things– no, it's beautiful. Flesh twists, makes way for more eyes beneath those soft feathers, reds and blues shifting to galaxies contained within plumage, silver freckles for stars. Scar maintains eye contact the entire time, a fond grin on his face, and Grian stares back defiantly, like a challenge.

More feathers sprout along his body, and Grian ditches his jumper. They bloom from underneath that unfair sleeveless shirt he wears and direct his attention to the man's rippling muscles. Grian is so much stronger than most people give him credit for, he thinks, and that only excites him more.

His teeth grow sharp, his usual talons look more like knives. A true bird of prey; he's built to kill.

"Happy?" Grian growls, his voice echoing through Scar's head until it feels like it's the only thing he's ever known. Grian, Grian, Grian.

He whimpers, unable to force down the noise once Grian's hands are back on his wrists.

(It's hardly an issue. He's already prepped himself, and that rare foresight on his part will soon be something to brag about.)

"Gods, Scar. You're impossible."

Scar is like me fr fr.. OKAY BUT THIS IS GOOD. I NEED MORE- I want more-- if you feel so inclined to write the spicy bit... I'd love to read it (and I'm sure everyone else would as well)

[voraciousvore]

Boarding School for Giants (22/25)

------ Chapter 22 ------

My skull was beginning to ache from all my thoughts running around in tightly-wound circles. I needed a break, so I decided to push my dilemma to the side for the time being, and enjoy the moment. We were out in the city again, with gigantic cars rushing past us on the adjacent road, kicking up fallen leaves from the giant trees. I traced the lines of Joey’s expansive palm with my fingers, relishing the feeling of his skin against mine. 

“That tickles!” Joey giggled. His hand twitched underneath me, the skin creasing into soft folds. I was glad Joey was comfortable enough around me now that his hands didn’t sweat anymore when he held me, so he didn’t have to wear his gloves. 

“My bad,” I responded, laughing. “Where’s the movie theater at? Is it far?” 

“Nah, it’s in the shopping center just a few blocks over,” Joey answered. “We’re lucky to live in a place where everything is so close. Well, close for giants at least. Maybe not for you.” Normally I wouldn’t have been especially bothered by his comment, but now it only underscored how out of place I was here. If I stayed, I would never be self-reliant. I would need others to transport me and take care of me. I had never been good at relying on other people. 

I closed my eyes and forced those dismal reflections out of my brain again. I just wanted to enjoy my time with Joey tonight. The universe had other plans. We passed the diner where I had almost been eaten for breakfast with pancakes and I was reminded of the horrors that potentially awaited me if I elected to stay. I shrank down in Joey’s hand, hugging my knees with my arms, and pressed myself against his torso, trying not to shiver at the recollection. Joey sensed my discomfort and folded his hands around me tenderly in a sort of embrace. His heart thudded in my ears and helped my mind go blank. The tension drained out of my body and I was able to relax again.

“Are you okay?” Joey asked in a low, gentle voice. 

“Yeah,” I assured him, “I just had some unsavory memories resurface when I saw the diner is all.” 

“Awww,” Joey cooed, hugging me tighter to his chest. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anything like that happen to you again. I’ll keep you safe.” I curled up within his hands and soaked up his loving warmth. God, he felt so good. I did feel safe with him, like he could protect me from the giant world, with his immense size. I may be a human, and he may be a giant, but such a detail was trivial: Love bridged the gap between us. 

We reached the movie theater, and Joey took me up to the ticket counter. A bored giantess manned the counter, absently twirling a long strand of hair with her finger and rudely chewing a piece of gum while tapping her long fake nails on the countertop. When she saw us, her eyes scrutinized Joey up and down with condescension, stopping briefly to stare at me before trailing up to Joey’s face. Joey pointed out which movie he wanted to see. 

“We only need one seat,” he remarked. “So one ticket.” 

“Um, no. Two tickets,” the giantess demanded with a huff. She pointed at me, her nail like a claw. “Two people, two tickets.” Joey balked. I rolled my eyes. 

“Fine,” Joey grumbled, shelling out the cash. “Two tickets please.” The giantess snatched up the money in her talons and tossed us our tickets. Joey went inside the theater and made a beeline for the concession stand. 

“Why didn’t you fight her?” I asked Joey. “You probably could have convinced her to just sell you one ticket.” 

Joey looked down at me and smiled. “I could have, but she was right. You are a person. I wasn’t going to argue that point.” Realizing what Joey was saying, a burst of love flowed through my heart for him. “I’m going to get some popcorn, do you want anything?” 

“Nah, I’ll share your popcorn. You don’t mind right? I’ll try not to hog it all for myself,” I joked. Joey chuckled and ordered a bucket of popcorn for us to enjoy together, along with a cup of soda. He carefully perched me on his shoulder since his hands were full of snacks and headed to the theater, grabbing some napkins on the way there. I gripped a tuft of his messy hair and leaned on his neck for support so I wouldn’t fall. Even so, he walked slowly and carefully until we made it to our seat. He gradually lowered his huge bulk into the chair, exhaling with relief when we were safely seated with no mishaps. 

“Here you go,” he said as he handed me a piece of popcorn that was absolutely monstrous in size. I bit off a small chunk, savoring the light fluffy goodness. Joey dug into the bucket with one hand, rustled around, and pulled out an entire handful of the giant popcorn pieces, shoving them in his mouth with glee. Since I was right next to his head, the crunching of his teeth as he chewed his food was very loud. 

“JOEY!” a shrill voice blared in my ear, right behind us. Joey started and choked on the big mouthful of popcorn, coughing uncontrollably. I lost my balance and tumbled off his shoulder. I fell with a startled cry into the bucket of popcorn and was promptly buried in a deluge of buttery puffs. 

“Jesus, Stephanie, don’t do that! You made me drop Eren!” Joey shouted with indignation. He fished around in the bucket until he found me with his fingers and rescued me from drowning in butter. I had big splotches of butter on my limbs and face. At least I smelled good. 

“Oops, sorry! I was just SO excited to see you guys, because I didn’t know you’d be here!” Stephanie yelled. She had her posse of giantess friends with her who were all staring at me with undisguised curiosity. I felt a bit self-conscious, disheveled and covered in butter. “Let’s sit together!” 

Joey gritted his teeth in a forced smile. “Stephanie,” he said patiently, suppressing his irritation, “If you don’t mind… Eren and I are on a date. Would it bother you if we enjoy our time together, with just the two of us? We’ll be happy to hang out with you at school tomorrow.” 

“Ooooooh a date!” Stephanie squealed. “That changes things! How romantic! We’ll leave you two lovebirds alone!” She shooed her friends, who looked baffled at the idea of a human and giant dating, off to a distant corner of the theater to give us some privacy. 

Joey sighed. “Sorry about that. You alright?” 

“I’m fine,” I assured him. “Don’t be too harsh on her, she doesn’t mean any harm. I think that’s just the way her personality is.” I squirmed a bit in Joey’s fingers at the uncomfortable sensation of a trail of liquid butter running down my arm. 

“I know,” Joey said. He gazed down at me and a mischievous smirk crossed his lips. “You look tasty.” 

“Wha-” I began, but before I could finish my sentence Joey brought me up to his mouth and licked the dripping butter off my arm with his enormous tongue. I gasped in shock, not sure how to react. 

“Mmmmmm,” he hummed. “I could just eat you up right now.” He licked one of my legs, then slurped on my other arm, sucking it into his lips almost up to my shoulder. I could feel the slippery hot flesh inside his mouth. 

“Joey!” I cried out, laughing. Joey released my arm from his giant lips and laughed heartily in return, giving me a sloppy wet kiss on my body. For good measure he licked my other leg too, then did the gentlemanly thing and handed me a napkin so I could clean off properly. I wiped off the remaining butter and slobber best I could until I was acceptably clean, albeit with some butter stains on my clothes. Oh well. 

The lights dimmed and the movie started. Joey handed me another piece of popcorn to munch on and stuffed more in his own mouth, crunching noisily. I was blown away by the epic sound system and the impossible size of the screen. This giant theater put a human IMAX theater to shame. I settled into the hollow made by Joey’s collarbone and rested on his neck, feeling his pulse on my back. 

I tried to ignore my feelings and focus on the movie. It was a fine production, with decent special effects and a quality storyline, albeit somewhat cliché. An ordinary guy got bitten by a freakish insect that escaped from a top secret lab experiment, and gained superpowers. Besides super strength, he had the ability to grow insectile body parts at will, such as multifaceted eyes, wings, extra limbs, a stinger, and serrated pinchers. The supervillain was a disgruntled scientist who was fired from the same lab for unethical behavior and had also been bitten, but he turned into a beastly and bloodthirsty megalomaniac who needed to be stopped by the hero. The finale culminated in the mad scientist going berserk and rampaging across the city, only to be torn to shreds by the protagonist in a graphic, bloody spectacle. 

The film concluded, and Joey got up and left before Stephanie could intercept us, sucking down the last of the soda and chucking his trash in a bin on the way out. It was nighttime when we exited the theater. The night air was chilly, so I huddled up against Joey’s giant body for warmth, using his shirt as a blanket. His natural scent increased my magnetic attraction to him. I was in heaven. 

Joey’s cavernous stomach growled like a starving animal. “Are you hungry for some dinner?” he asked me. 

I placed my hand on my belly, as if I could gauge how empty it was from feeling the outside. “I could use a meal,” I responded, mostly for Joey’s benefit since he was clearly hungry. We stopped at a fast food joint next to the theater and shared a basket of chicken nuggets and fries, with Joey scarfing down the lion’s share of the meal. Maybe I just got this impression because he was a giant, eating a giant amount of food, but I swear his mouth was like a vacuum cleaner for victuals. A growing giant needed his nutrients, I supposed. I was relieved that for once nothing seemed to go wrong, and I didn’t fall into anybody’s dinner or get eaten. I hated how even mundane outings could become hazardous when everything and everyone around me was so ludicrously gargantuan. 

Even so, I didn’t mind that Joey was so much larger than me. If anything, his gigantic size made him more appealing to me, because I felt safe and protected in his hands. Although I was diminutive by comparison, I didn’t feel so vulnerable when around him. He treated me like a equal, yet at the same time was so gentle and careful with me, as if I were something precious and fragile. I supposed to him I was. 

“Hey, Eren,” Joey stated, snapping me out of my reverie. “I want to ask you something.” 

“What is it, Joey?” I gazed up at him from the platform of his hand, at his handsome countenance hovering over me high above. By now we were back at the giant school, just outside my dorm. 

“Um...” His face flushed. “As I’m sure you know by now, I like you. I mean, I really, really like you.” He glanced away and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. He was correct: By now it was pretty obvious we were both infatuated with each other. His eyes turned back to me, full of emotion. “Do you... would you want to...” He exhaled. “Do you want to be my girlfriend?” 

I should have known such a question was heading my way, yet I was blindsided and stunned. I gaped at him. In a single moment my heart was torn in two. I so badly wanted to say yes, could almost taste the sweet word on the tip of my tongue that would in the moment cement our mutual happiness. I wanted Joey to hold me forever, to shower me with hugs and kisses, to love me unconditionally. I wanted to give myself up to him, my whole heart and body. However, I didn’t know if such a lovely fantasy could ever become reality. If I went back to the humans, I would never see Joey again. 

My indecision stretched out into several long, uncomfortable seconds. With every moment of hesitation, I twisted the knife of rejection deeper into Joey’s heart. His facial expression became strained as he waited for my answer. He realized something was wrong, and his body seemed to deflate, his shoulders crumbling inward. I needed to say something, quickly, before I destroyed him. 

“Joey...” I began. “I want to say yes, I really do. But there’s something important I need to explain to you.” I released a shaky breath. “I might be going back soon to live with other humans. If I do, I will probably never see you again.” 

Joey’s face fell. “W-what?” 

“When I spoke to Mr. Henderson earlier, he gave me a choice. He said I had the option to return to the other side of the wall, or stay here.” I began to tear up. “Joey, I care so much about you, and I’m falling in love with you more every day, but I just don’t know if I can do this.” My lungs spasmed as the tears started to flow. “Living with giants is so dangerous. Look at all the close calls, all the terrible things that have happened to me already! I don’t know if I can survive here!” 

Joey was at a loss for words. He hadn’t been expecting such a bombshell and couldn’t recover from it. His face twisted up with pain and confusion and desperate sorrow. His legs buckled underneath him, and he collapsed to his knees with a crash. He was shocked. He slowly lowered me to the sidewalk, looking straight through me. He placed his hands on his knees to steady himself, arched his back, and took a deep breath, towering over me. His face contorted and twitched as he struggled to hold back his intense emotions. He was overcome. 

Concealing his face with his hand, the giant choked out, “I-I have to go.” He jumped to his feet and stumbled away quickly, not looking back, his clomping footsteps rattling the earth. 

My heart was torn in half, but after seeing Joey’s reaction it dropped to the ground and shattered into a million pieces. 

Next chapter: https://www.tumblr.com/voraciousvore/731609248130351104/boarding-school-for-giants-2325?source=share

1st chapter: https://www.tumblr.com/voraciousvore/731600430392639488/boarding-school-for-giants-125?source=share

[em-writes-stuff]

freezing

day ten of @whumpcember

839 words

warnings: thrown overboard, superstition, nearly freezing to death

~

How Icha secured her place as the last dragon we won’t kill. I know the story, you know the story. Everyone knows the fucking story. But the truth is-not shockingly-unknown to everyone. Let's get started. 

There is a dragon who flies over the oceans, her wings blocking the light over ten ships at once. Her scales are a shimmering white and her eyes a pale blue. With great talons, she dives into the water and comes out with monsters in her claws. When she was first discovered, she was feared by all. No one dared to sail for years unless they had no other choice. 

One day, a princess was fleeing from the new king. A harsh man who had forced himself onto the throne. She bought her way onto one of the few ships setting sail on her harbor and boarded with the few possessions she managed to gather. 

The captain looked at her, fear stuck on his face. For everyone knows that having a woman on board is bad luck. He crossed his fingers over his chest and said a small prayer to his spirits. 

But they didn’t listen. 

Two days after pushing off land, the dragon came into view, her scales reflected into the water, turning it translucent. The ship could see every animal underneath them. From the fish, to the party of marinethings. The captain looked at the princess, and his mind was made up. 

He sent his first mate to throw her overboard. 

She cried, begging them to let her go, to let her stay for just a few days more. Surely the dragon would ignore them. Surely she didn’t care about one ship filled with no more than ten people. 

They ignored her. 

With her legs and arms bound, the first mate threw the princess overboard into the freezing water. With the water as clear as the dragon made it, they saw her frozen with shock under the surface. Her eyes wide with terror and pain. 

The dragon saw her and set a new course. Her head angled down and she dove into the water. 

The captain closed his eyes, not wanting to watch as the princess’s blood spread through the water. 

Without moving the ship, the dragon floated under it, the princess gently held in her talons. She came out of the water as smoothly as she’d entered it. Then, she turned around to stare at the captain. Her steel gaze bored into him, sending him to his knees. 

He held his hands high above him and he begged the dragon not to hurt them. 

The princess shook her head, coming back to consciousness and the dragon looked at her with a softened expression. Her entire body shook with cold and the captain could hear her teeth chattering from his place. The dragon breathed hot air onto the princess, slowly warming her. 

Then, her head snapped back to the captain and she spoke. 

“What did you intend, throwing her over?” 

The captain’s knees shook and he bowed his head, “I thought you were coming for her.” 

“You will take her back on your ship and send her where she wanted to go. If any more harm comes to her before she sets foot on land, you will meet your doom.” 

The captain bowed deeply and nodded, stepping back so the dragon could set the princess back on board. 

The ship began moving again with the dragon following closely behind, making sure the captain held true to his promise. 

Once land came into view, the dragon flew higher than they could see, but her shimmering scales shone through the clouds, reminding the captain that he was being watched. 

The princess got where she needed to be and found refuge in a small village, never forgetting what the dragon had done for her. 

Even as she took her last breath, she spoke highly of the gentle beast, making sure everyone knew never to hurt her. 

~

I knew most of my childhood stories would be ruined when I took this job, but I never expected this one. 

The story we all grew up with was that the ship nearly flipped. A woman on board had angered the sea spirits and they would do anything to take her life. But the dragon knew she had a bigger purpose than to satisfy the spirits. The dragon dove into the water and fought against the waves to rescue the princess, succeeding in the end. 

But this? I’m not surprised how the story actually goes. I just wish I could tell someone about it. 

The new king who had forced his way onto the throne is likely King Edward and the runaway princess is without a doubt Queen Evelyn’s younger sister, Kinsley, who the king wanted to take as his bride. 

The story won’t be locked, but I will not make it easy to find. The report will go back where it was found, with the Tales of Dragons and the audio recording will be filed under “Dragons-Icha-True Stories” 

[eternivex]

Uhhh not gonna bother with formal intros for this BFBDBSBS I just wanted to write something after. Months. SoD2 group stuff lol

No one really wanted to wake up in the apocalypse, even years into it. However, just staying in bed and sleeping in wasn't an option, everyone needed to pull their weight and get things done. Whether that be around the base, out in town, or just managing communications with other groups of survivors. There was always something to do, and when there wasn't? You found something. That was just how it was.

And if it weren't for the god awful taste in his mouth, and the overwhelming feeling of being a lazy bastard as he heard everyone just outside, Sev would've never gotten up. Figuring it was either doing it by his own choice, or getting dragged out of bed by an annoyed Mac, Sev decided the first option was the far better one.

The old floor creaked underneath his weight as he shifted out of bed, rolling over the still warm spot of where Miles had been laying just an hour before. He'd tried to convince him to stay there, but he was a little more responsible, saying he needed to get a "jump on the day." It was fair, but that didn't mean Sev couldn't still whine a bit when he left.

Sunlight had begun to creep in through the tinted windows of the packed bunker, and Sev found himself raising a hand to cover his eyes as he shuffled over to where he'd lazily thrown his day clothes the night before. His free hand lazily reached forward and grasped around the chair, before taking a fistful of fiber, courtesy of his coat. He leaned back, opening his eyes a little wider to get a proper look.

Sev was quick to dress himself, buttoning up his coat and buckling his belt before walking out, his shoes thumping against the wood before halting at the door. He stood there for a moment, his hand already on the doorknob. Day by day, minute by minute, that's what everyone always said when someone didn't feel like doing... Life. It was fair, no one was berated for it. Living in an apocalyptic world, which had been transformed into a husk of itself, it wasn't easy. Some days were tiring, some days made people want to let themselves get their throats ripped out by ferals, but some days were good.

With a deep breath, Sev opened the door, stepping out into the world once more. His hues scanned the surrounding base, quickly getting an idea for what the others were doing.

At the garden, Warburton sat on his knees, his green thumb only growing dark with dirt as he planted the next box of seeds. For a gruff sniper who'd likely taken more lives than anyone else there, he was a pretty peaceful guy. Although, Sev supposed that no one could just always be what they were best at.

Just ahead of the garden, the workshop stood proudly, with Denis and Quique inside. Although Sev couldn't quite make out what Denis was saying, he seemed to be rambling about some kind of creation with how his hands travelled through the air. Plus, the smile that had broken across his face as he did so. Quique leaned back against the bench, fiddling with a wrench in his hands as he nodded intently with each sentence.

Moving his gaze to the barred windows of the house, Sev could see Mac through it, wrapping bandages from the clinic around his bloody knuckles. Likely broken, if he had to take a wild guess. A part of him wondered what Mac had done this time to earn the wound, but chalking it up to punching a zombie on instinct would likely be the right choice.

Finally, he looked down next to the garden, the field hospital. Rose and Keg stood together, carefully managing plague samples into strainers. Having cures for the blood plague stocked up was never a bad idea, and Roses knowledge of creating them from her time in Red Talon had left her with the skills necessary to help the group with it. Keg had shown a particular interest in how the plague worked in general as of late, so utilizing the plague samples from the dead zeds gave her something to do.

Moving his legs, Sev began to walk over to the communications center, giving a small wave to Warburton along the way as his head turned upon hearing the footsteps behind him.

He was quick to move up the ladder to the small tower, hands gripping the recently fixed up wooden bars to hold himself as he scaled it. Once reaching the top, he was quick to grab onto the headset that laid on the table, along with the small radio which it was attached to. Sev put the headset on, and quickly changed the frequency. He'd memorized the exact one he'd needed, it was a daily ritual by now.

Sev pulled back a chair from the side, and sat down, leaning into the microphone as he pressed down on the button to speak through. "You still kickin' out there, cielo?" He purred out with a grin, listening intently for the voice he knew would be responding quickly. A few seconds went by, before static crackled from the other end.

"You're awake. Morning."

He could practically see the smile Miles had in his head, the same one he'd heard about from Keg whenever she went out with him for scavenging runs. The one she always described him speaking with whenever they talked over the radio, the one he couldn't get out of his goddamn mind. Clearing his throat, Sev spoke once more. "Got tired of layin' around, here I am... What're you doin' out there this time?"

Each talk like this soothed Sevs mind, although he wouldn't say it, there was always a fear of something happening when the guy went out. He didn't know that fear went both ways, sure, but still.

"Well, Charlie spotted a car out when he made a trip up to our power station, in working condition. Can you believe that?" Miles laughed softly, "So, I'm headin' back there with him to grab it and drive it back. Too far to just walk there safely, y'know? ..say hi, Charlie." It went quiet, for a moment. Sev could hear the radio shifting over. "Hey, Sev!" Then, it shifted back. "He says hi."

"I heard." Sev couldn't help but snicker at that, before speaking. "When do you think you'll be back?" He asked, pressing his elbows against the table. "Ehh... 30... 45 minutes, maybe? Might check around the area, see if there's anything useful. I'll let you know."

He nodded, although Miles obviously couldn't see that. "Alright, well, don't die on me out there. Same goes for Charlie." Sev sighed, looking out from the tower to the base around. "You know I'll be safe... We'll talk when I get back, okay?" Miles spoke gently, "Love you."

"Love you too, see you when you're back, doll."

And then, silence. Sev pulled the headset off and set it back down, before standing up. His morning routine was pretty much done right then and there, now he actually had to get on with his day and get something done. So, he went back to the ladder and made his way back down.

There was always something to do, he just had to find it.

[talesofmetalandmagic]

During their ride to Nazumah, Azir’s entourage is caught by a fierce sandstorm and has to stop.

The set up they expect to happen involves Azir sitting nice and cozy in his coach while the lowly retainers that can only bow to their emperor and should be grateful he acknowledged they exist have to brave the sand by huddling behind it.

They park the coach atop a dune – it’s best to get to the high ground when a sandstorm hits, to avoid the risk of being buried alive – loose the sand horses, who instantly vanish, and open up the bags with the tents. But before they can do that, the coach doors open and Azir, clad in his finest dressing gown, signs them to come in.

And come in they do, of course. They huddle around the wooden floors, sitting on cushions and spread out blankets, and Azir sits on his bed like it’s a throne.

-Well... thanks, my lord,- Akshan speaks for everybody. They truly didn’t expect that from him, which says a lot both about what Azir has been acting like before his downfall and their opinion on him.

Once they're safe, all they can do is wait for the sandstorm to end. Azir doesn't like feeling this cramped up, but he keeps quiet because it's not a good look – an emperor must be brave and cold – and tries his best to relax and let it pass.

They have a little slumber party of sorts, lighting candles and eating in a circle. They have dry meat, nuts, grains, all the good stuff. As it's traditional for travelers, they trade stories and tall tales about themselves and the people they've met.

Get to know your party, Nasus said. Treat them as friends, not as retainers. But he's never even had friends, aside from his now enemy Xerath. He spends most of his time silent, skipping his turn whenever the time comes for him to tell stories.

Akshan has stories about the Shadow Isles, the tragic romance between Lucian and Senna, Viego's obsession (which includes a jab at Azir himself when he says "some monarchs just cannot see beyond their beak... I meant nose" – but the perspective of becoming another Viego frightens Azir even more than any jab) and all the brave people that came together from all over the lands underneath a common cause. Samira talks about Noxus, the mysterious and beautiful LeBlanc, and jokes at the expense to every powerful jerk she knows to cheer Taliyah up when she shows signs of distress. The girl herself tells stories about her family (which includes the infamous moment where Azir asks about what she does when her parents cane her) and the culture of the weavers. Her words dripping with so much love, affection and complex beauty Azir averts his eyes, burning in shame.

I could have destroyed all this.

He always considered someone who fancied beauty, but all this… he was horrible, wasn’t he?

It’s only a bit later that everybody notices Taliyah is agitated.

-What is it?- Sivir asks.

-I’m just not used to this.- she lives in the rockier side of the desert, where sandstorms aren’t nearly as common. -Don’t worry about me. I need a distraction.-

-What would you usually do.-

-I would weave, but it's not safe now. I'll let it pass.-

But there's other forms of art elsewhere. And Azir, sweating cold for the uneasy situation, shifts closer and removes the blanket from his feet.

-You can paint my talons, child. If it helps.-

Taliyah watches him, stunned.

-That's... nice of you, my lord. I think I can.-

And help it does: as Sivir, Akshan and Samira snuggle on the floor for a nice rest and (dad) Nasus brews a warm tea for the ones that are still awake, Taliyah paints Azir’s talons and he watches her work, focused and removes from the outer world.

She reminds him of his own daughter – the one who burned alive, helpless, innocent. The one he’ll never see again. He feels, even though he doesn’t ponder about it, just like when he woke up and rescued the dying Sivir: completely lost in a sweet emotion.

-You seem more serene,- Nasus later tells him as he covers the sleeping Taliyah up. He expected Azir to fret at the sandstorm – Xerath tied him up on the outside whenever one came – and is glad to find him somewhat happy for once.

-Do sit here, my friend. There’s something I want to get off my chest.-

[jaguarhabit]

      the last time he saw a royal talon fighter was back in 1992. other than pressing upon the page in his father's journal that showed the blueprints and contained notes of its construction. that time followed up to where he sat this instant had him feeling some type of way. on one hand, n'jadaka conservatively admired its interior; talented designers laid out impressive intricacies to a hovercraft that reminded him of the spaceships from takehiko itō's outlaw star. on the other hand, this was the same model that held a candle to the dark place in his memories and reluctantly possessed the event that saw his father—nah, i ain't even gonna think about allat right now.

      n'jadaka dismissed the night of the riots off his mind and fell back in tune with the music blasting through his earpods. cozz chorus' singing the headhunters part of the song guided him down a placid mood. the talon was speeding at an amazing velocity, and with this rate, he guessed their trip will end in n o time. as he softly bobs his head to the rhythm, his eyes lifted from his iPad to the back of the head of his pilot. they would be coming upon oakland soon and he maintained a measure of skepticism about this. the pilot being his cousin was the reason why they were on this field trip in the first place.

      during his time as an ancestor, around one of their many disagreements, one of them pertained to their late relative. t'challa, son of king t'chaka. a poor excuse of an afrikan that threw away his nuts and chose to leave the sons and daughters of the continent to damnation. he found the son moved no differently. shuri argued his assessment was wrong, and that t'challa had a change of perspective after his death. supposedly, he started an initiative, outreach centers across impoverished neighborhoods. he began with his cousin's old stomping grounds. none of what shuri told him moved him in the slightest, but he said if he were alive he'd humor her. now that he is, there was a side of him that was curious, but he mostly just wanted to see the old neighborhood again.

      they surfed through the clouds for another ten minutes before the invisible talon began to descend. n'jobu's son observes the clouds melting away and a large building coming into view. it was his own. despite the visible renovations it gone through, despite not being home for a long time, and despite his past attempts even trying to erase this place from memory, he still recognized home. his facial expression showed signs of joy or even the opposite. not a single word rolled off the tip of his tongue as the hovercraft descended until it couldn't and he took his cue to release the buckles that strapped him down.

      n'jadaka stood up from his seat and trekked over to the pilot's area. up ahead, beyond the talon's window, he regards the basketball court across the parking lot they parked in. no young would-be stars were out hooping, but he took notice of the hoop. the crate he grew up scoring some of his greatest points in was gone, replaced with an actual basket. that's change, he thought cynically. the potholes in the streets were fixed, and he spied families filtering into his old building. the building that was remade into the first wakandan international outreach center. nothing particularly stood out to him. from where he was standing, all they managed to do was throw a fresh coat of paint over a wall of shit. his lips curl underneath his thick mustache as he lifted his hand to stroke his beard.

      “ naaaah, ” n'jadaka said, in barely restrained amusement. his eyes danced over the landscape, soaking it all in. then, unable to contain himself, he laughed. “ you people are fun-knee, boy. this really all yall? ” the look in his eyes was incredulous. the derisive grin rode over his face for several seconds more, then it didn't. he'd let a lapse of silence fall over between them, whilst lines crinkled into the center knot of his brows and across his forehead, his face dubious. he worked internally on giving room for doubt on his own premature assumptions, as he recalled the uninspired promise of giving his naive cousin a chance.

      shaking his head over his demurred agreement, he pockets his fists inside his royal blue hoody after tossing the hood over his head. “ aiight then, let's see what great wonders wakanda bought to the neighborhood. ” an insoluble twinkle came to his eye, a cracked grin wearing over his barely concealed features. now he felt a little motivation to get this little family trip underway. he reaches just past her shoulder for the button that releases the walkway that leads to the outside. he said not another word to shuri as he exits the ship, into the cool oakland breeze. if anything else, being home after all these years was definitely going to have an effect on him. he just couldn't guess what.

@ignispanthr

[salvosfinest]

Stardust to Stardust - Ch. 6

Sparring was a fantastic outlet for anger and frustrations.

The tempo of hitting pads, staggering his partner, and picking him back up was familiar. And tiring. He had let up on his partner, until he called for “harder!” Remembering the disaster of a “Christmas party” last year, Darius threw his shin into a lifted glove - and knocking the man to the mat.

“You wanted harder.” He said simply, reaching down to pick the dazed man up onto his feet - in his years, Darius progressively unlearned the names and faces of the people Talon would bring in. It was easier, knowing that they were cannon fodder. This kid would probably be dead in the next mission.

It was easier.

“Doctor Kaiser. Someone’s asking for you,” came from the outside of the ring, and Darius practically swung about to see who it was - it was rare for his sparring to be interrupted.

Oh. Siebren. Siebren with the most bewildered expression on his face.

“So that’s what you look like without a shirt,” he caught just barely over the sounds of his feet hitting the mat. Darius stuck his head between the ropes, practically nose-to-nose with Siebren. They both squinted a moment-- and Siebren was the one to laugh first. He always was. “Fine, fine, I am guilty. They were talking about some Christmas party and I know nothing of it. I was hoping you would come with me, as...” “A date?” “N-No! No, just... to keep company.” Now he was blushing. Finally. Usually Darius was the one to turn scarlet. It was a date. They were both tiptoeing around calling their outings such. “Sure. I do have a gift for you - once I wash up, I’ll give it to you. I’ll meet you in your room.” “Ah-- no, no, I like yours more.” It’s more homey, Siebren said once. But he knew he was constantly being monitored. So, it was a sort of code for “I feel safer there”.

Shaking his head, he waved a wrapped hand as he stood, “An hour. Twenty for this, forty to clean up and relax.” He heard the bench by the ring creak and he tried to brush it off, going back to the steady rhythm of his spar, ending with the kid in pads goading him into another hard hit. Fed up with his attitude - this man was half his age - Darius grabbed the man by the wrist and hoisted him as up as he could. “Stop.” He was dropped back on the mat, entirely confused as to what the past three minutes of his life were about.

He practically ignored everybody on the way out, finding solace later in his shower, letting the water beat against his back and neck, eyes closed. In the darkness behind his lids, he remembered that expression on Siebren’s face. Bewilderment? No. No, that was the gaze of a man that found something he liked. Siebren was attracted to him. Siebren was attracted to him!

The anxiety sat in the pit of his stomach as he dried off, dressed, and put his damp hair up. Stepping out, he stopped when he noticed Siebren was already chilling on his couch, book in hand. He was still so unused to having someone in his space. Want to be in his space. He cleared his throat, then dug underneath his bed to get a little box. He held it close to himself as he plopped next to Siebren, practically forcing it into his lap. “What-- oh! You did say you had a gift for me! What is it?” “Open it, I’m not telling you!” He saw Siebren roll his eyes, undoing the decorative tape on each side. Inside he had carefully folded a Christmas sweater. It was picked up carefully, then unfolded. There were some planets and the old NASA logo printed on it. There was silence and, surprisingly, stillness from Siebren as he gazed at the front of it - the only thing different was the line of tears at the bottom of his eyelids. The sweater was hugged to his face to hide those tears - and the older man’s head was summarily placed in Darius’s lap.

That was new.

“Ah, are you alright?” Furious nodding. “...Alright.” A hand smoothed down the few inches of hair that he had convinced Talon to let Siebren keep, his other hand resting on his arm. Sure, he was surprised that Siebren would do something like this, but he wasn’t heartless. He understood wanting comfort. Just... from him, was the surprising part. After a few minutes of silence, Siebren sat up and set the sweater down in his lap-- then the plain shirt he wore was off.

He hadn’t seen Siebren shirtless since he had to perform surgery. And by the gods did he forget what the man looked like. His frame had filled out, offering protection for his leaner muscles, his pale skin dotted with graying hair. He looked good. It was all hidden a second later by the sweater, which fit him perfectly with plenty of room to get cozy in. That was something he won’t forget.

Darius’s train of thought was immediately interrupted by a tight hug, finding himself relaxing faster and faster these days into the big man’s arms. He could stay here forever.

But, unfortunately, forever was far too short.

[writerfae]

Wow, I wrote something. And it’s even canon!

Well, of course it won’t be in the story word for word, but it’s a scene that somehow like this will be included. Yay!

Takes place after Aiden got freed from the Knights.

The night was full of stars and the surface of the starlight lake, too, was littered with the sparkling reflections of the same bright lights that decorated the dark sky.

Aiden sighed as he lowered himself deeper into the water, the cool sensation a boon for his heated skin.

It felt good to wash off the dirt from the last couple days. And to get a few minutes of quiet to clear his head.

He had always hated to be alone, but after the last few hours he almost found himself missing it.

His head was brimming with all the informations he was confronted with, with thoughts of his mother, his brother, of the insanity he found himself in.

Never would he have expected such a mess when he followed Halea into the other realm to find Henry.

Find him he did, but he also found so much more. It was almost too much to handle.

Aiden wanted to run. He genuinely planned to do so, to leave everything behind and go home to hide from the truth he learned.

And then the Knights had captured him and everything changed yet again.

With what he knew now, he couldn’t possibly leave. He had to warn Henry. To help him and the others.

He lifted his hand and let the water slip through his fingers. The water made his skin sparkle just like the stars above.

Whether he liked it or not, he was now right in the middle of this whole disaster and he had his part to fulfill. People were relying on him to help and stop Morena.

Only he could do it. After all, the sword had chosen him. After all, it was in his blood.

He stared at his fingers, at the starlight on his skin, then he clenched his hand into a fist.

Yes, he would stop this. He’ll warn Henry, stop the madness and when all of this was done, the two of them could talk.

When they survived, whispered a voice in his head, but Aiden decided to ignore it.

He wasn’t alone anymore. He stood a chance. They stood a chance. If only they worked together.

“Aiden,” a voice called to him. As he looked over his shoulder, he could see Talon standing at the lake side.

Moonlight caught itself in his light hair and made it shine almost like a saint’s halo, which was an irony Aiden didn’t miss out on.

He slowly rose from the water, making his way over to the other boy.

When the water barely reached his navel, he stopped, suddenly realizing that he was very much naked underneath the water surface.

Not that Talon would have noticed it if Aiden had broken the rules of modesty, since he still refused to look at him.

Aiden wondered when he’ll ever have the courage to meet him eye to eye.

“You should come,” Talon said, eyes lowered, his voice barely loud enough so Aiden could hear.

“Get some rest before we make our way back to court. Nyx says we are safe here, but we should make sure to leave before sunrise if we want to be there before them.”

Aiden nodded. “I will. Give me a second to uh…” he looked down at himself. “get dressed.”

Talon didn’t say anything to that. He just nodded quickly, before turning around a bit too fast and making his way back to the bonfire.

Did Aiden only imagine it, or did the fae’s ears seem a little red in the light of the moon?

He shook that thought off and made his way to the water’s edge to gather his clothes.

Talon was right, he’d need some rest. They had a long day ahead.

*

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[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Life Is Strange

Chapter 1 - The First Task

(Part 1, or read as a stand alone)

Steven Grant x (f)reader

Summery: You've been hunting beasts all over the world for hundred's of years since a deity unknown to you at the time gave pity on your lion-heart of a soul. Bringing you back from the dead with incredible gifts, tasking you with protecting humanity and others with your sort of condition. But what happens when you're tasked with protecting Khonshu's special servant from his more vulnerable self?

Warning: blood, fighting, fluff, steven being cute as heck

Word count: 9681

Masterlist - Life Is Strange masterlist here

You stand in the shadows of Rome under the overhang of an old building with crumbling walls of stone, a restaurant now to the human eye in this ancient city. Chattering of many loud voices emit from within the establishment's open windows and door on this late evening. You can smell the familiar scent of bread on the air and something warm and delicious floating through the gentle early summer breeze.

The sky is turning into night changing from soft oranges and pinks into dark blue as you stand under a sign reading Margo's Best in Italian. From here can you catch a glimpse of the coliseum top with its wide curving rim where birds like to sit and rest. But in this part of the country are you no simple tourist or civilian minding their business going about their lives. You have far greater business to attend to.

You were sent summoned here to kill a few beasts lurking the streets, silent and deadly, creatures no damn Avenger could try to slay if they even dare gave it a go. Elusive and stealthy these being are, mysterious and volatile with a naturally annoying tendency to consume blood in the most inconvenient of places.

You close your eyes and listen intently, people speaking in many languages to one another, laughter and yelling, plates moving against each other. Cars passing and motorbikes rumming down the cobblestone streets with riders holding on tight. You listen closer to the wind and the sounds of Rome, things that should and things that should not.

Faintly, so quietly, a man's choked voice is heard. Raspy and faint like he's been taken by surprise and his breath caught in his lungs with a violent gasp. Your eyes open again and you retreat back into the shadows of the dark alley next to the bustling restaurant as a couple passes by holding hands unaware to your aloof behavior.

You press your hands to the brick wall and draw your gaze to the sky of dark blue, specks of stars blemish the darkness with silver as the night awakens. You take a breath and turn to face the deep alleyway, you take off on swift steps until you're racing on swift legs, then all at once are you no longer in the body of a woman. Your physical vessel shifts into that of a falcon with mighty wings and sharp talons.

You burst forth from the alley and into the night, following where that man's gasp was last heard. Over buildings with lights giving the streets a soft glow, past people and vehicles alike until you dive for a side street where no cars are permitted to travel. You fly under an arch of stone covered in green vines and transform back into your normal self by the time your feet land upon the street.

You take a step beneath the arch of stone and vines trailing down from both sides, into the shadow of the beautiful alley made of stone and bricks. All along are windows scattered here and there, showing you people reside in this place. You must be careful not to let them see you do what you're about to do. That's the last thing you need to be concerned for, gifting a poor Italian some trauma on a fine night as this one.

You give this side of the alley one last glance before turning to walk in the opposite direction, past the arch and the vines you walk in shadow and clouded light from inside windows up above. Your jacket is open, dark armor underneath catching with the smooth obsidian in a door lantern as you walk by.

You hear someones hunger in the night from around a corner to your right where the path cuts, your steps are light as a ghost while you stalk to this edge. Slurping and sucking is audible in your sensitive ears, you smell blood as you approach, slowly inch closer and closer to the corner. A blood smear coats the stone leading into this new alley, shiny in the light of another lantern out of sight.

You hold your opened palm to the side as a Khopesh materializes in your closing grasp, a weapon of your respected deity, a beautiful curved sword of deadly prowess in your otherworldly provident hand. You peak over the corner to witness as a woman is hunched over the limp pale body of a man, the flesh of his hand visible, white as snow.

She feeds on his corpse as you take a step into the open, she sucks and drinks unaware to your silent approach upon the stones of Rome. Your boots tracking blood as you walk from the messy splotches of her carelessness, then just as you arrive within a few feet of her does she stand and quickly whip around to face you. Her blood stained cheeks on tan flesh and eyes of glowing pale blue meet your face and she screams a wicked screech.

Then your Khopesh meets the skin of her neck and muscle and bone and out the other side again, her head falls with a meaty thud to the earth as her vessel lapses to its knees. She tumbles to the side where her body disintegrates into ash and dust as she hits the hard stone. You look at her decapitated head though nothing is present except for more ash.

You kneel down to pick up a necklace of gold and diamond with a single golden bead hanging from it with a shimmering crystal attached. You pocket this and stand, walking over to the dead man with a pool of blood around his head. Body pale as the moon with eyes glassy and absent. You kneel down to close them.

Your hand presses two fingers to his temple, "Find peace into the afterlife, young one." You whisper to the dead man who looks to be around thirty-one with brown hair, he was handsome enough in life as far as you can tell.

You stand and take a step back to look him over, "Didn't your mother ever tell you not to walk around alone at night?" You shake your head at him before turning your head up to the sky, "Anubis will take care of you."

---- Walking casually down the side of a street in the wee hours of the morning with the last of a Italian pastry in your hand, do you run your fingertips along the side of a stone wall reaching just above your head. A man on a motorbike races by from your left without giving you a second thought as you eat the final piece of your sweet.

With that gone are you turning into the opening in the stone wall and through the arch reading the name of some cemetery in Rome. The area is surrounded in the wall of thick stone, holding many grave markers in the grass and under some tree's that stand as big green giants overlooking the graves.

You walk on the path past the sleeping dead until you've reached a tall grave with a pillar reaching into the sky a short ways. You admire the fading white until a sliver of sunrise catches the side of your eye and you hear the call of a falcon on the air. At last does the creature land upon the pillar edge, looking down at you. Only you.

You wiggle your brows at the bird of prey, "Out of all the places in Rome, and you make us meet here?"

The bird tilts his head at you, then a man walks out from behind the large grave. Olive skin and thick brown hair falling down his shoulders with eyes of crystal blue. His face is royal and wise, speaking with a voice like that of an ancient tone, sultry and sweet, "No human would be in the dark with the dead at this hour my dear Y/N."

You snort, "Sometimes I wish I was still human."

The handsome man does not laugh, "Without my pity you would have been rotting with them centuries ago." He says, folding his hands together at his front.

"Yes, yes." You wave off, "You always enjoy reminding me of that."

"It is because my care for your life.."

"Care I never asked for." You point with a finger before crossing your arms over your chest, "All I did was exist and find myself in a not so wonderful situation, wrong place wrong time sort of deal. That's it, then oh right, you came down to turn me into this beautiful bastard that I am. You know I haven't had a date in seventeen years cause of you!"

The man gives a slow nod, almost appearing remorseful, "Which I am sorry for. But you could have since then." He reasons much to your annoyance.

"Not worth it." You sourly mutter, taking a step to give a glance over the cemetery, "So what do you want now? I killed the rest of Rome's vampire problem. Could I at least get a break? An all expenses paid cruise trip getaway to the Caribbean, oh yes I'd like that. I think I even deserve it, don't you think?" He's not amused by the wink you give him, the charm in itself thats never phased him.

The falcon above him looks at you curiously before flying down to land on another grave slightly less taller then before, though you still crane your neck to face him. His eyes of enchantment lock onto yours when the man next to you speaks, "The task I give next is more important then any cruise the humans could conjure. There is a man who is in dire need of your protection my dear Y/N, huntress of the beasts and the dead. Will you accept my ask?" Tone serious and held with deeper purpose.

You give the blue eyed man a small respectful bow of your head as you hold a hand over your chest, "I accept your task, Horus. As warrior, friend, and champion."

He nods his head of flowing brown hair, "Good. This man holds the spirit of one of my own, Khonshu, though lesser then I and you, he is important to a degree. He remains in the vessel of a man named Marc Spector who is his avatar though he is not who you must protect."

"Oh, the plot thickens."

Horus still does not laugh, nor even smile if his avatar's handsome face could, "Within this Marc Spector is another personality split from the born one who's name is Steven Grant, he alone is powerless and weak."

"That's a little harsh." You muse.

"He is the cowardly, uncertain part of Marc Spector who remains at the front more often then not. He must be protected for the survival of this vessel when Marc is not in control. I ask of this because I need Khonshu's avatar to keep his life for as long as possible. This keeps Khonshu in a place where he cannot be as disruptive. You understand this my champion?"

Your smile grows as Horus rolls his eyes, "My champion? Oh? Are you flirting with me?"

"Y/N."

"Fine. Yes, I understand oh great god of sky and birds and being a permanent pain in my ass and not in a good way."

"War and sky." He mutters.

"Birds and pain."

"Y/N." Sighs Horus, "You will find him in London England where the old is guarded by the new."

Your brows furrow as he turns to leave, "Wait! Don't you fly off and leave me with very minimal information again!"

He keeps walking towards the exit of the cemetery, "You will figure it out, you alway do."

"What if I don't!"

"Then why would I have come all this way?" He stops near the entrance, giving you an almost flirtatious look over his shoulder, "My champion."

Mouth slightly parted, you say not a word as he smiles and exits the cemetery through the opened gates. Breaking from your trance, your shoulders slump as you shake your head before resting your hands upon your hips, "Fucker." You whisper just as your eyes catch movement off to the right, you freeze and turn to face a man with a sweeper in his hand. "oh, hello there."

"Cosa stai facendo qui?" Says the man, wanting to know what you're doing here.

"Visitando mia madre." You answer as he looks at you skeptically, he pulls out a walkie-talkie just as you point behind him, appearing frightened, "Guarda un fantasma!" You yell, telling him there's a ghost behind him like the improvisor you are.

The weirded out man quickly turns around to see nothing but the big tree and a bunch of graves, he grumbles something unintelligible in Italian before returning his attention to a falcon perched upon a grave head where you just where. His brows furrow as you, this random falcon, squawks at him before flying off into the sky.

---- After a long plane ride and a bus later have you found yourself on the streets of London England with a small backpack slung over your shoulder and Starbucks smoothie in your right hand. You take a sip of the garden green liquid before pulling out your phone, "Hmm, too bad they don't have an app for cryptic Egyptian deities who like to talk in riddles just to fuck with you." A woman on your right gives you a strange look as you start walking across the street when the light turns green.

On the other side do you pass a couple shops and a large fountain as you head down the block, unsure where to actually go in search of this Steven Grant of London. You start to round the side of a large stone building when a woman bumps into you almost causing you to drop your drink and phone, "Whoa who forgot how to walk today?" You quip as a dark skinned woman looks at you with wide eyes when you turn around to face your cause of unbalance.

"Oh shit I'm so so sorry, love. I wasn't trying to..."

"Nah, it's alright." You wave off, choosing to be nice today, "Though I do have a riddle for you if you're willing?"

She gives you an inquiring look, "oh?" You nod, giving her a half grin.

"What is old that's guarded by the new?"

The woman's brows furrow as you await an answer, "I'm....I'm too sure about that one. What is guarded by the new?"

You purse your lips together as you give a clueless shrug, "No idea. Good day." And with that, turn around to leave the woman alone on the busy sidewalk to think about the strangest interaction she's had all day.

You walk down the street past more Londoners and tourists alike as your mind reels over what the hell Horus was on about when you round another bend and stop as your eyes land upon it. The British Museum, well, at least one of them located around this bustling city. One that happens to be across the busy street, your lips curl into a proud grin as you stare at the statue of a man on a horse out front.

"What is old guarded by the new. Horus you sly fucker." A museum, of course.

You wait for the light and cross with the rest of the group of Asian tourists and their guide trying to usher them quickly across. You silently follow them as the man with a tour guide jacket on holding up a neon orange flag leads at the front, "This way everyone!" He shouts in a notable British accent though you cannot place from where, "This way, yes keep moving, keep moving, almost to the museum. Very nice, teamwork alright, almost there."

You follow them up the steps and to the front glass doors leading into the cavernous interior holding, what would you know it, a vast array of this months special exhibitions. Egyptian relics and other such ancient memorabilia of the likes, from small to large and in between. This feels almost ironically poetic of Horus to send you here, or for this Steven Grant to work here of all places.

Hmm, now since you think about it upon entering, Steven probably has not a damn clue an actual ancient Egyptian deity calls home to his human vessel. Nor is he most certainly aware that another personality is within him as well. Oh this poor oblivious man, lets hope you can keep him safe and in the dark about this for a bit longer.

A little Chinese boy brushes past you as you wander into the opened space with floor of tiled white, you follow the tourist group as their leader with the orange flag brings them in further into the huge room. You break from the pack who are now surrounding a statue of a broken half-headed Anubis to wander over to a clear glass case of old artifacts.

The thin glass protects grubby hands from a couple ancient weapons that have long been from any sort of battle. Your eyes linger over the intricate markings and hieroglyphics of an axe handle as a woman's voice, also accompanied by a British accent, is heard reprimanding someone from a small ways behind you.

"Oi little lady, we don't be touching none of that now." She says as you turn around to catch a small girl with blonde hair removing her outstretched hand from touching a mummies coffin protected by some damn red velvet divider. It doesn't look to be real though the sign clearly states do not touch. The child's cheeks dust pink as she smiles shyly from getting caught.

This kid runs off as the woman huffs and begins hastily walking after her like a famous power-walker, "Hey there, where ya parents? Come back here I need to talk to you!" She says loudly while trailing after the child as you start walking over towards a pyramid on some white table. Paired with a card of information on it.

Your gaze trails over the words and then the ancient hieroglyphics that you can read as easily as your native language over a piece of paper. While you're interpreting within your own inner dialogue does a mans presence find itself close by to your right. He's soon a few feet off to your side, lingering like a nervous teenager as you feel his intrigued gaze looking at you.

He takes a step closer, head turning from the pyramid to you, "The Pyramid of Giza, the largest of all of them in fact, one of the seven wonders of the world." Says the man with an accent you could listen to all day as you turn your head up to give him your attention at last. You're a bit taken aback at what you find admiring your face with his two big beautiful dark eyes, so gentle and warm like a puppy staring at a pretty butterfly flying just out of reach.

His lips pull into a shy smile as he blinks, "One of the interesting things we have 'round here in fact, though not as interesting as the statue of our almost headless Anubis." Adds the handsome tired looking man with a small chuckle while he points a finger to your left, "Right over here."

You break from your staring to give him a nod, lips curling into a mellow smile, "Right, right, yeah. I haven't seen him yet. Haven't ever been here actually."

The mans eyes light up, "Oh wonderful, that's good cause I uh, I work here." He chirps before taking a step around you, "Here I'll tell you about him, he's pretty neat I think. You might like him." You let out a breathy laugh as you turn to follow the man over to the tall statue of Anubis that sits on a throne of stone with a golden scale in his right hand. The other one missing.

The dark haired man with soft waves of messy black turns from you to the statue, "He's a bit rusty lookin' at the moment, but don't let that fool ya. He's quite the powerful god, he's a protector of graves and cemeteries so you betta' be watching out when it's Halloween." Chuckles the man, "Well, guess if they believe in that sort of holiday like we do. Maybe you don't even like it I dunno, shouldn't be one to assume huh?"

You smile as he looks at you almost shyly, "I love Halloween."

The man grins brightly, "Oh cool, cool, yeah, I love Halloween too. Fun day for spooks and wearing whateva you want right. Good times, eh." If you didn't know any better the museum worker might be flirting with you.

"Good times indeed. I especially enjoy taking my favorite candy from children." You muse, "What are they gonna do about it huh?"

His smile falters for a brief moment before he starts laughing when your lips turn into a mischievous grin, "Oh, mans, you had me there for a second I'm not gunna lie. Almost got me."

"Almost had you."

"Almost had me." He says before the two of you fall into a semi-awkward silence until he points back to the statue once again, "So Anubis. God of.."

"Steven!"

Your attention snaps over to the miffed face of a blonde haired woman as she waves her hand over from where she stands behind a counter, "You're not a tour guide so get over here. We got things to do!" You're able to recognize her at the lady who ran after that girl earlier.

The cute man runs a nervous hand through his thick dark hair, "Sorry Donna! I was just telling.."

"I don't give a monkey's uncle what you were telling her, stop fiddling around and get back to work." She affirms, "Well come on will ya."

"Yes, sorry Donna. I'm coming." Replies Steven as he turns to meet you with an apologetic face, "I'm sorry about that....I gotta, I gotta go." He turns to leave, taking a couple steps away before stopping and turning around to face you again, "Uh, it was nice having a chat with you. See you around, yeah. I gotta go now...so uh, yeah." He mutters before gifting you the ghost of a smile. Leaving you by the statue of Anubis.

You watch as he dutifully walks on over to the front desk where the blonde is waiting for him with a frustrated look upon her face. You move from Anubis over to a pillar where you slyly sneak behind while eve's dropping on their conversation. One that you can tell they've had before.

"So why this time? What's the reason?" She presses.

"Oh uh, been sleeping bad lately, it's just my sleep walking again. Acting up." Says Steven, "I dunno why."

"You get it checked?"

"Well uh.."

"You haven't got it checked yet?"

"Well....no."

You can hear the woman sigh, "Steven Grant what are we gonna do with you huh? Start putting you on the night shift I think."

Steven Grant.

Your breath catches in your throat as you suppress your laughter, this man right here, this absolutely adorable dork of a man. He's the one you're supposed to protect, he's the one who Khonshu chose as his vessel. This man practically stuttering as his boss tells him off for being late again, apparently something he does regularly.

Oh lord what has Horus got you into now? ——

After your brief encounter with Steven in the museum did you choose to hang around for a little while longer until the hour grew late and the security guard told you ten more minutes till closing. Your stealthy 'protect Steven task' turned into you creepily staring at him from the shadows where he couldn't see you the whole rest of your time there. Not strange at all.

You couldn't help it if you tried, he's just the cutest thing ever. Such a dorky man, such a handsome dorky man that you still can't get over the fact that his alter is Khonshu's Moon Knight. This Marc Spector or something...must be a decent enough guy if he lets this odd Egyptian loving man take the lead most of the time. Enough of the time that you need to be here in the first place.

Now you lean against a stone pillar on the outside of the museum as casual as ever, watching as people mind their business going about to wherever they're needed. Taxis, buses, and cars roll on past, their lights flashing across the sidewalk as they go. You observe as a two women wander past you, walking by the stairs leading up into the glass doors marking the entrance of the museum.

They talk and smile, linking arms together as they chat about something amusing and you get an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach. A sort of empty feeling you haven't minded in a long while, a sense in your vessel you've ignored, shoved to the side and left forgotten. A feeling of abandonment? That's not it, never is.

Your brows furrow as you think hard about it, what this feeling is, what it truly is. You watch as the women smile brightly at one another, gazes soft and warm like sunshine on a spring day, the one on the right presses a kiss to her lovers cheek and a spark ignites in your head. You feel this strange ache whenever you see people like that, whenever two individuals are enjoying each others company in that way.

You yearn for it in a sense, miss that feeling of being wanted and held and loved. It's been so very long since you've had the chance to feel that way at all. Such a long time since anyone has taken your interest, since someone has found you in the same way as you have found them. When a mutual bond is formed, a good one that draws you in like birds on a windy day floating high on the strong breeze.

You may be able to transform into a falcon at will, yet you haven't found anyone to join you on the wind. The women continue walking past the tall statue of the man on a horse, arms still linked together and you have to look down. You shake your head and let out a breathy laugh, "Stupid." You whisper, chastising yourself for dipping into these feelings again. Feelings that were the death of your last relationship.

He was too good for the world. Never deserved his fate. Your fault too. All your fault. Drew him into a life he was never built for, never meant or prepared for....just a human man. A wonderful man you truly did love and he you, but your life then as it is now was never crafted for anything good like that to happen to you. Well, at least anything that could last.

A blonde woman walks a few feet past you and you turn your head down as she hastily walks by, it's Donna, Steven's boss or manager or something of that nature. She jogs down the steps and past the statue until she reaches the edge of the busy street where she waves for a cab, her chariot arrives in no time and soon is she gone from your sight. Into the night and away.

You wait another forty-five minutes until the opening of the doors on your left sound, you shift out of sight behind the pillar and wait. Steven walks past, pushing the thin fabric of his bag handle further up his shoulder so it doesn't fall off. He wanders by, walking down the steps and turning left to make his way down the sidewalk. Disappearing behind a street corner, oblivious to you following him from a safe distance.

And he won't know that you followed him home, the next night, and the next, and the next. Nor would he be aware of the fact that you follow him around London when he's not working, or look through his window in the form of a falcon when he's home and when he's not. For a month will Steven have not a clue that you've been following him, studying his habits and routines, keeping a watchful eye on his whereabouts. Making sure nothing strange or unusual happens to him.

And the weirdest part in all of this nonsense that should be boring you to death, you've begun to enjoy it. In fact, you might even love it. Especially when he catches you snooping around the exhibits at random, something he holds out for since the day you started to regularly do this. Of course you explained that you're doing a research paper on ancient Egyptian mummies and their deities as a front for why you're actually here.

But what he doesn't know won't hurt him, right?

Steven seems to like this, it's almost as though he may have grown quite fond of you in the past month. But you never say too much, never talk about much else but the exhibits and how the weather's looking that day. You can't tell him why you're really here, he'd probably freak out or laugh it off as some silly joke like all the others you've ever told. You can't freak him out, you just need to be able to protect him. That's it.

You walk through the doors of the museum with two coffees in your hands as you nod to the security guard who still hasn't ever caught your name, though you've caught his wandering eye. He smiles, giving a small wave as you saunter on past him heading for the front desk on the right when you walk into the cavernous room. The tiny stand of pamphlets and overpriced souvenirs relating to the exhibit at hand.

Donna immediately looks up when the familiar sound of your boots against the tiled white flooring reaches her ears, "No, no, no, no. Y/N you get out of here, away will you, you menace."

"Why's that?" You muse while approaching the desk with a smile upon your face.

She huffs, leaning her elbows into the smooth surface, "You know why. You coy little vixen, you'll be distracting Steven from his duties. And he's already on thin ice for dropping one of the pots."

You raise a brow, "He dropped a pot?"

"A replica." Mutters Donna as she pushes herself up from the desk, "Now scoot it unless you're gonna buy someth'in. I've got someone actually interested in the limited time plushies of one of those crocodiles." She says while nodding for you to move out of the front of the line you hadn't realized was even forming. She may be annoying, but she's at least somewhat chill about it.....to a degree.

You step aside as a child with her arms full of three crocodiles throws them onto the desk as her father pulls out his wallet, beginning some uninteresting small talk with Donna. Something you could care less to be apart of at the moment, so instead of sticking around do you slip past them and head off in the direction of the broken canoe in the other room. A large room with many other things involved with boats and fishing.

You walk past a group of children on a tour as you walk further into the room with the child sized protective glass on your right surrounding the ancient boat. You stop at the midway point in the old boat where a large hole is present making it easy to see anyone on the other side through the broken wood planks. You peak through the gap where you spot a young woman admiring the inside of the hull.

As you turn to keep walking does the voice of Steven pull you to the end where you walk around to find him on the other side explaining something about nets to a little boy. A smile instantly tugs at the corner of your lips as you approach on his left, you look down at the little kid who looks about ready to pack it up and bolt. You give him a wink before dramatically knocking your shoulder into Steven's.

"Oh my goodness I'm so sorry." You quickly apologize as he whips around. The little boy making a run for it when Steven's attention is drawn elsewhere.

His dark eyes are large and frantic until they land upon you and your sweet laughter, his expression turning into a relived and joyful one, "Y/N! What'r you doin' here?"

You give a casual shrug, "Thought you could use the company and oh what's this I have here?" You hold up a cup of coffee, "For you my good sir, it's made with love and the fuel to keep you awake for another six hours."

He quickly grabs it out of your hand, admiring the plain warm cup in his grasp before returning his gaze to you again, "You didn't have to get me anything you know. You should be working on your paper, not, not gettin' me a coffee."

You wave him off, "What no. I wanted to." You pause a moment, "I like, I like coming here."

Steven's smile doesn't falter as he forgets to speak for a second until he blinks, "Right, well...uh, yeah. Thank you for this." He holds up the cup, "Very kind of you. I definitely need it, won't go to waste I can tell you that much." He adds with a bit of nervous laughter to calm his tenseness around you. Gosh why must you be so pretty, he thinks, and so nice too.

Picking up on his anxiety and the way that he holds the coffee cup close to himself are you able to tell that he's scared to say something wrong. You've only known him a couple weeks now yet you can always tell when he's nervous about something weather that be Donna or with you. Its adorable really, you've never met anyone else like him.

"So, uh, heard you broke a pot."

Stevens eyes shut as he smiles, shaking his head, "That was.."

"You can tell me if it was on purpose. I won't snitch." His eyes open to look at you and your smirking face he's grown fond of seeing every other day.

"I didn't try to drop it I swear, I was uh...uh...a bit tired."

"Tired? Alright Mr. Butterfingers sure, it's really fine if it was out of protest for these late nights Donna's got you roped into." You chuckle, "I'd never tell her."

"It was an accident, and, I'm not trying to sabotage anything." Points Steven with a small smile as he leans from one foot to the other, "You're gonna get me in trouble if you say that any louder."

"I can say it louder if you want."

"Oh god please don't." Nervously laughs Steven, "Last thing I need is her on my tail again, I thought I was getting fire for that one."

"Fired. What would you do if you were released from the souvenir prison?"

Steven snorts as you bite your lip, "I dunno really." He mutters thoughtfully, "Probably find a new job I suppose, though I do like the museum."

"You could work at an art museum. Oh, or better yet, find a new museum somewhere else. There's got to be a few across the city right?"

"Hmm. Could be." He purses his lips together, "I do like this one though....and then, then I wouldn't see you around." His cheeks turn the lightest shade of pink, "No more free coffee either."

"Tragedy would that be, huh?"

"It would be." He nods, "Like a play gone south."

"A play gone south." You repeat, "Yeah, something like that I guess." You trail off as the two of you fall into a semi-awkward silence, your eyes darting from each other to the current surroundings of the room until you take a step to the side, "So, uh...I gotta go."

"Oh yeah, yeah, right. Of course."

You take another step away, "Paper to do."

"Right, yeah, paper."

"Lot of things to type." You take another step away, "Typing, as you do."

"Typing, yeah. See you then." Mutters Steven as you smile and turn around, walking past the large ancient boat until he gains a single ounce of courage, "Y/N!" He calls as you stop and twist around on the flat of your foot.

"Yeah?"

He gingerly holds up the coffee, lips quirked into a timid grin, "Thanks again. Uh, um...see you."

Your smile is soft and gentle as you take him in, "See you." Voice sounding sweet as honey to Steven's ears.

"Cheers." Adds Steven with a small wave like a young nervous boy with his crush's attention for the first time.

You wave back, a short quick and confident movement of your hand, "Bye." And with that do you turn around and continue walking out of the room, into the main one and on out the door you go. Wishing with every fiber of your entire being that nothing terrible ever happens to him because if something does you might tear all of London apart.

—— Three days later can you not help but return to the museum, slipping past Donna and yet another tour of high schoolers standing restless near the statue of Anubis. You take the left and wander down the shadowed part of the hall leading into another cavernous room with statues of Egyptian figures and other large art pieces standing here and there on pure white tile. A fair contrast to the ancient relics positioned upon them.

You spot a smooth pillar cracked and broken at the top where it once reached much higher, on the surface are hieroglyphics reading praises and prayers to the deity Horus. You chuckle at the depictions of the artists adoration and devotion to the being who gave you a second chance at life when you were at your lowest. They draw their words so beautifully you cannot stop yourself from approaching this pillar.

Your neck cranes upwards, letting your gaze study the carved image of a bare chested man in a white loin cloth seated upon a throne with the head of a falcon. Women and men bow at his feet, their lips just about kissing the floor. And you've thrown a rock at this god of theirs before, more then once.

Someone taps you on your right shoulder causing you to jump to the side with your arms balled up into fists, white knuckled, prepared to send your 'attacker' into the afterlife. Your hard set gaze grows soft and flustered as you release your tight fists, "Shit I'm so sorry." You gasp, embarrassed.

Steven, with his hands held up in defense, lets out a soft chuckle, "You box in your free time?" He jokes, bringing his hands back down to his side, "That was mad quick. Remind me never to become a thief trying to snatch your bag."

You rub the back of your neck, nervous laughter emitting from you as you give him an apologetic smile, "Yeah....uh....something like that." You mutter, eyes darting from him to the pillar and back to him again, "Just uh, admiring the art. It's neat." It's neat? It's NEAT?

Steven breaks out into a smile, turning his attention to the pillar, "Yeah, it is, isn't it? Horus, such a fascinating thing the Egyptians chose to have their gods and goddesses with heads of animals." Chuckles Steven, "A falcon for the god of the sky, makes sense right?"

"Makes total sense. A mouse would have looked stupid."

"Huh, a mouse. Could be for the god of cheese I suppose, if that was even a thing."

"You know, I'm not sure. Not sure about that one." You mutter, short for words, leading the two of you into not saying anything for a long moment until he glances down at his shoes, a bit more fidgety then usual which intrigues you. To lighten his tension within himself from you staring at him does your gaze return to the pillar marked all around with hieroglyphics.

"So uh, Y/N." Mumbles Steven as your eyes flicker over to meet his.

"Yeah?"

He swallows hard, adjusting his shirt's collar as he steps from one foot to the next, "Uh....so, so I was wondering if maybe, uh, possibly you'd have a free night where you're not writing for that paper. And maybe, maybe you could, we could I mean....we could have dinner. Dinner with some, with some steaks, yeah." Isn't he vegetarian?

Your lips part only slightly as you process what he's just said to you, a date it would seem, so be it. You slowly begin to nod, still a bit surprised, "Yeah, yeah, a date." You smile, "Okay yeah we can do that, I'd really like that actually."

Steven lets out a sigh of relief, "Brilliant. Great, so, uh...I know this place downtown, real nice."

"Real nice?" You repeat, "Real real nice or.."

"Sort of real nice and a half but not in a bad way or nuthin', oh but its got seatin' outside if you're into that."

"I like sitting outside."

"Me too. Sittin' outside is the best."

"Really is." You chuckle as he bites his lip, nervous and excited all in one.

"So, Friday seven-thirty at The Briar Grille? That work?"

You stuff your hands into your pockets, "That works. Seven-thirty at The Briar Grille, downtown. Got it." You nod, "Better not be late." You teasingly threaten before taking a step to walk away.

Steven takes a step to follow, "Oh not to worry, I'll be there." He says as the two of you start walking across the museum towards the main hall, "Steak, we're outside, and you're there. I'd be a real twat to miss that."

"You would, I might never come back here again." You add with a mischievous grin, "Or maybe I'd get back at you by snatching up that one cool lance over there by that old mummy."

"Oh dears. Donna would ban you for life."

"Hell with whatever Donna says, not like she owns any of this stuff anyhow." You playfully counter as the two of you approach the front desk, "However, you wanna snatch me this crocodile plushie, he's been staring at me for weeks. I think he wants me to take him home." Steven laughs as you hold up the crocodile plushie against your cheek, pouting like a little kid, "He calls to me, Steven. I can hear him."

"Will you put that down." Whispers Steven as he reaches for the crocodile that you swiftly pull away from him, he holds in his chuckles as you wander around him with the plushie held like a little baby over your shoulder.

"Look at him, he needs me." You hold it up to his face, your shoulders touching when you do this, "His eyes have seen things, Steven, things only the crocodile plushie from this museum will ever know. I think he'd tell me his secrets if you snatched him for me."

Steven tilts his head at you, "Give him here and I might think about it." You scrunch your nose at him before breaking out into a beaming smile the longer he studies your face. God you're so beautiful, thinks Steven as you move away to set the plushie back onto the surface of the desk.

You twirl around to face him again, elbows rested behind you on the desk as you take a moment to silently observe him before your lip quirks into a smirk, "So, come here often?"

His cheeks dust pink at your sly comment gave in a playful manner, Steven hugs his sides, shaking his head at you, "Well uh, as it would happen I do." He replies, attempting to match your energy and play along.

You tilt your head at him, your presence closer to a gangster then a woman in dark jeans and a t-shirt that has a red panda on it. He likes it though, a lot. You push yourself off of the desk, "See you around, Steven. Friday, seven-thirty, The Briar Grille. Downtown with the steaks."

"Outside." He adds as you begin walking backwards as casually as ever.

"Outside, of course." You muse, cheeks hurting from how much you've been smiling today, god he just can't help but do that to you whenever you're near him. You give him one last look before turning around, heading for the entrance, "Later." You call from over your shoulder, passing the small pyramid on it's table where two kids are stood reading about it.

Steven watches you go, fiddling with his hands as you walk out the door, gone in seconds when your form retreats down the stairs, "Laters gators." He whispers with a love-struck grin plastered across his face. Heart swelling with nervous excitement.

---- You wander down the street, hours away from your date with Steven, a date you're admittedly looking quite forward to. You pass by people going about their business as your sights catch the top of a church's tall steeple where a cross is planted overlooking all under it, saints and sinners alike. You wander by on your way and in no time are walking side by side with a tall fence on your left and the street on your right.

You check the time on your phone that now reads 5:52pm and continue onward, you pass by a couple holding hands and soon stop yourself near a single medium sized tree where there's a plot of grass in between the sidewalk and the road. You look down the sidewalk left and then right and both sides across the vacant opposite.

A single grey car rolls by as you take a step backwards, you glance around for any security cameras only to see none in the nearest vicinity. You turn to the fence of black metal with it's thick hedge on the other side preventing anyone from peering into what's on the other end. "Well Y/N lets hope there's no grumpy guard dogs on the other end." You mutter to yourself before taking a couple steps back and running for it.

You bend your knees, hauling your arms up as you jump straight over the tall fence of metal points and thick hedge before landing gracefully onto the green grass of the other side. Crouched, you survey your surroundings to that of a grand garden in the middle of London laden with trees and bushes and flowers of all kinds. A fountain in the dead center with a mermaid in the midst of the pool.

You stand to your full height, dusting off your knees of any stray dirt as you begin cautiously wandering to the right where a pillar wrapped in vines is placed. When you come within seven feet of it does the voice of a young woman startle you, causing you to whip around with your Khopesh materialized in your right hand. Held firmly in front of you, your gaze hooded and dark.

The caramel skinned woman with hair a beautiful dark rosey pink gives you a warm smile, you take notice of her canines that are much sharper then they should be. She waves, "Hello warrior of Horus, I am peace and only peace resides in my home. Stay your weapon, demigod of Egypt. I mean no harm." She affirms with a voice as calm as the tide.

You sense no falseness in her speech and with that do you lower your weapon, "Apologies, can never be too careful these days."

She smiles, "A fair thing to say." Her fingers fold together as she studies your face, "You know why you are here?"

"Because I was summoned." You deadpan.

The woman snickers, "As I intended. I am Morana Belcalyes, you will kill a beast for me that should not be here. Can I count on you to fulfill my request?"

You tilt your head at her, "Depends."

Her smile tightens, a bit irked now, "I want a creature killed by the name of Tala. The dead man of the sea who has tracked me here to London to steal my heart."

"Hmm, an admirer gone insane." You muse, Morana does not laugh.

"He means to eat my heart to gain life, with that he is free to have blood flowing in his veins and breath in his lungs. This cannot happen." She ends with, eyes glowing brighter with her heated words.

"Alright..." Your eyes narrow as you study her irises of blue that shimmer with flecks of gold until your lips curl into a knowing half-grin, "Ah, I get it. You're a siren who killed a man, who's now after you for drowning him."

Her jaw tightens, the muscle visibly moving underneath her skin, "As that may be so, you must kill him so I am free of him forever."

"Maybe make sure you have nice big shark to rip the rest of his body to shreds first, save yourself the creepy cursed dead guy."

"Will you do it or not!" She shouts causing some pigeons to fly out of the garden and the fountain to burst higher before returning back to its normal sprinkling stream.

"Yes." You take a single step closer, "Where was he last spotted and what's the payment?"

"Downtown. Near Pelham street, that's what I've been told."

"You haven't seen him?"

"I can smell him outside my damn hedge every night."

"You've got a ward keeping him from coming in don't you." She purses her lips together, crossing her arms, clearly agitated with you. Your annoyance lightens up as you study her face, she's scared underneath her harder exterior, you sigh, "Fine, fine. I'll give your chew toy a proper send off." You turn to leave before halting in your tracks, "Payment first."

She fishes something out of her pocket, taking a couple steps forward as she pulls it out, "This should be enough." You open your hand when she drops a closed seashell into your palm. You glance from the shell to her and she smiles, "It's inside."

"Right. Inside." You mutter, taking another step before stopping once more, "Do I have to meet you here again?"

"Not unless you die and your ghost comes to give me a visit." She says, smiling as sweetly as a summer peach.

You nod, taking a step to leave, "Uh huh. Well....bye."

---- Hustling down the street are you able to dodge out of the way of a group of rowdy teenagers coming in the opposite direction, you slide by them and race onward. Past more people, a couple many streetlamps, shops, and a few restaurants until you're across the street from The Briar Grill. You halt in your steps, "oh fuck he's already there." You mutter, eyes catching Steven seated alone at a table for two.

You pull your phone out of your jacket's pocket reading the time, 7:43, you bite your lip anxiously, feeling a bit terrible for being late. You were busy tracking down this cursed half-dead drowned sailor man when the thought of your date with Steven dawned on you. Then you did what any rational woman would do and found a secluded alley, turned into a falcon, flew close to the restaurant, found another vacant alley, and booked it here.

You pocket your phone, straighten your clothing out a bit and adjust your somewhat unruly hair. Gaze trailing over yourself, "Shit." You seethe, spotting a dirt smudge on the left upper thigh of your dark pants, you stare at it a second before looking back up at Steven, "Fuck it." And with that said are you walking across the street when the light turns green to cross.

You sneakily wander to the back right of the corner restaurant so his back is to you, you watch as the kind waiter giving him a pitiful look asks if he needs a minute. Your soul feels quashed and ground up into a hundred tiny pieces when Steven quietly replies back you'll be here in no time. Though his voice sounds unconvinced.

The waiter nods, choosing to let another lonely stood up man be, and with that he turns to leave and head inside to attend to someone else.

You pass the couple on your right, table seated upon a raised platform where a small metal fence is held between the sidewalk and where they sit. You ignore them conversing with one another to stealthily jump over the short knee high fence and up onto the cement platform, as silent as a mouse, they don't even notice you do this.

Your eyes never leave the back of Steven's dark wavy hair as you slowly approach him until you tap him on the opposite shoulder and sneakily take a seat when he's turned away from you. "Looking for something?" You ask when he returns his attention over to you, expression pleasantly surprised.

"Y/N." He says, letting out a nervous breath.

"Sorry I'm late. Traffic."

"No, no. It's fine." He waves off, "It's good to see you again, you look.." His dark chocolate irises trail over your top, it's far from anything fancy yet you still clean up nice for someone who was hunting a monster about ten minutes ago, "...wonderful." He finishes, beaming as he admires your face, trying to take in all that he can in the off chance this date goes ary and you never want to see him again.

You lean back in your seat, studying him as he does with you, "You look handsome-er."

Steven turns almost shy as he shrugs, "I try." He mutters, still not being able to stop grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

"Your hair isn't as messy as usual."

He chuckles, absentmindedly running a hand over his dark locks to smooth it out as you look at him, "Yeah?"

"I'm joking. Your hair is always nice."

The corners of his eyes crinkle as he snickers, "Right, right, that's good. That's good." He nods, pausing for a short moment as he glances from the window of the restaurant then back to you again, "I heard they got steak here." He quips.

Your laughter is pure music to his ears as you cover your mouth, eyes rising into little moons at your burst of amusement. You don't even know where this came from he just said something hilariously on par for the night and you lost it. After a few long moments trying to catch your breath again are you able to calm down and meet his gaze.

"Yeah, I think someone told me about that." You muse, "Some really cute guy I met at the museum."

Steven falls at a loss for words when you say that, he can't help when his cheeks turn the lightest shade of pink as your soft gaze lingers over him. He fiddles with his fingers as he looks into your alluring ones, "Well, uh...some beauty I met at a museum told me she liked steak."

"You think she came for the steak?"

His smile slowly fades as he realizes what you're saying, he swallows, "I'd hope not just for the steak." Says Steven quietly, obsidian eyes flickering from your lips for just a brief moment.

You gift him a gentle smile, "Well I'll tell him this." You lean into the table, "She never came for the steak."

---- There may be a chance, a strong possibility, a great doubtless feeling in your heart that you may have fallen deeply for Steven Grant, the man you met in a museum. The man you've been tasked with protecting. Now you never meant for this to happen, it's not as though you purposefully tried to let this come to be, no, not at all. It just sort of....happened.

You stand at the corner of a side street with Steven at your side, he's looking away at some fair in the park with lights glowing brightly all over the place. Music in the air and the scent of fair foods on the breeze but you don't care to look at any of that at all, just him. His dark hair of soft waves, his prominent facial features like his nose and his lips. Those lips...

He turns his head towards you, locking eyes as he catches your unabashed staring, "Hi." Tone soft and gentle.

You give him an affectionate grin, "Hi."

He nods towards the fair, "You wanna check it out?"

Your eyes glance from the fair then back to him, "You plan on winning me something?" You ask with a tilt of your head.

He shrugs, "I can try." Looking a bit unsure of himself, "I did manage not to spill anything on my shirt tonight. Guess I could give it a go."

You hold out your hand which he gladly accepts, you give it a playful squeeze, "Good enough for me. Come on then, you win me something and dinner's on me next time. Alright."

The two of you start walking though his expression appears stunned, "Next time?" Mutters Steven, like he can't believe it.

You glance over at him, "Yeah, next time. What you thought I just did this for a free meal?"

"No, no....I just....I don't know." He adds, flustered, "Ignore me I'm just being a twat."

You give his hand a reassuring squeeze, "Twat or not, I like you either way so come on and let's win something cool." You add while pulling him across the street with you, Steven following diligently right at your side the whole way across.

When you finally reach the other side of the street where the sidewalk meets the grass of the park does he stop and give you an uncertain look, "What is it?" You ask, suddenly nervous that maybe he's seen something he shouldn't have.

"I forgot to tell you somethin."

"What?"

"I'm vegetarian."

The tension in your chest immediately lessens as a relieved smile finds itself upon your lips, "I figured that out already."

He stares at you with hopeful eyes, "You did? How?"

Shaking your head at him is he surprised when you place a gentle kiss upon his slender cheek, "Now you gonna we me something or not?" Steven just smiles, face slightly flushed as you turn to pull him towards the pretty lights of the fair with its music and smells and colors.

"I'll win you the coolest thing. Whateva you see."

"What if it's a huge turtle?"

"You got it."

"A super long toy snake?"

"All yours."

"Hmm, I hope your aim's as dapper as your face. Then there's no way you'll be losing."

Steven smiles proudly as he looks at you, "Dapper, huh? Then dammit, you're gettin a stuffed dragon. How's that sound?"

"Sounds wonderful."

He smirks, irises flickering with something that can't help but pull you in. You're really in for it now.

-

Part 2 coming soon-ish and it gets spicy ;)

Thanks for reading! Hope you all liked it in one way or the other

[amatchinwater]

When Trust is Earned

Warnings: sexual content, blood, violence, blow job, facial,

Ch 12/14 (Ch 11)

A Credible Threat/Apotheosis (ao3)

---

Turns out while Lydia was catatonic, she had a nice little chat with Meredith. The other banshee helped her get a handle on her powers. Learn what it really means to be a banshee and how it can help her. A few days after being home when Lydia felt healed enough, she showed Stiles and Theo that she could hone her scream, project it like a force field. Lydia splintered a very large tree like it was no more than a miniscule twig. It was fucking incredible. 

Honestly, Stiles is just happy that she’s out of Eichen and safe. She’s even going back to school for the one class that she has left to take. The chimera can certainly appreciate her strength and determination. You won’t catch anyone calling Lydia a damsel in distress anymore. Stiles will call them an idiot if they so much as try. 

After saving Lydia, the hurt in Scott’s eyes is more and more evident. The Beta is losing grip on his pack. As if it wasn’t clear before, after what happened to Corey, Mason is with Theo now. Seeing an Alpha who was always so hungry for power and looking out for himself take care of and be worried about another person- let alone six, if Stiles includes himself and his dad- really sealed the deal. And according to Hayden, Liam isn’t that big on Scott anymore either. 

The young wolf is really all Scott has because the Desert Wolf got what she wanted. Malia died that night at Fort Jewitt. Stiles feels bad only for the simple fact that when it came down to it, the coyote probably didn’t deserve that. Fiercely loyal to Scott or not, having your own mother kill you is pretty fucked up. But aside from that, Stiles doesn’t feel much more of anything in regards to Scott. The wolf made his own bed, now it’s time to lie in it.

“Do you really have to play tonight?” Theo brushes his fingers along Stiles’ arm while they’re curled up in Stiles’ bed. 

Right. The charity game against Devenford Prep. The Beast has been a lot more active lately and when has something bad not happened at one of their games? Apparently, Scott even got Finstock back. His goal in mind being to forfeit the game to make sure that no one has to die. Which Stiles can agree with. The Beast is brutal. Having a run in with that thing is a terrible way to go. 

“What if the Beast shows up?” The Alpha presses. “I can’t let you get hurt. Just stay here, please.”

“Theo,” Stiles sighs, they’ve been talking around in circles for well over two hours now. It’s part of why he started to dissociate for a minute there. The chimera can only say the same thing before it gets repetitive and tedious. He understands his mate’s concern, but it doesn’t change the fact that several innocent people could be hurt if not killed should the Beast show up and everyone possible isn’t there to try and stop it. 

“Please.”

Stiles coos, “aww, are you worried about me?” Mostly just to tease his Alpha rather than needing an actual answer. He knows Theo’s protectiveness for him knows no bounds. The feeling is most certainly mutual. There’s nothing Stiles wouldn’t do to ensure his mate’s safety. 

Theo rolls on top of him underneath the sheets, settling himself between the chimera’s hips. “Of course, I am.” The Alpha brushes their noses together, his softness speaking volumes. He really does love when Theo can be incredibly gentle with him, even if he’s trying to use it as a tool. It’s sweet regardless. 

Stiles reaches up to rub the arms encasing his body, “what if you came with the talons?” He knows that Theo was going to come regardless. Something about being a supportive boyfriend and mate. It made the Alpha seem ridiculously sweet and Stiles’ heart swelled a good four sizes. “You could keep an eye on me.” 

“I’d much rather take you, your dad, the pack, and get the fuck out of Beacon Hills.”

He wasn’t expecting that at all. “Wait, really? I-I figured you wanted to get the Beast’s power, kill it, and then finish Scott for good?” Wasn’t that Theo’s plan from the beginning? Being mated and having the power he so badly wanted is really making his Alpha soft. Personable. Balanced. Stiles would like it if he wasn’t so concerned at how different Theo’s acting. Not that there’s anything wrong with those things, people are allowed to change. Theo just seemed like the type to be set in his ways. Make a decision and then stick to it. 

Theo must be really worried about him. 

“I did,” he sighs, “I do. But not if it means losing you. You mean too much to me, Stiles. If there’s something that I can do to ensure you won’t be in danger, I have to try. You’re my mate, Stiles, that’s for life. I can’t let anything happen to you.” Theo’s eyes darken and he smirks, “as much as I’d love to see McCall’s blood on my hands,” he nods his head to the side with a cocky flick of his brows, “again.” 

“There he is,” Stiles teases, dropping a hand to poke at his mate’s ribs. “Thought I lost you there for a second. That was an awful lot of caring and emotion,” he laughs. Though, it is pretty nice if he’s honest. Balanced Theo, that is. 

“You’re the only one who gets to see it, Kitten,” Theo puts a light hold around his throat, grinning when Stiles’ pulse spikes. “You should be grateful,” he licks the chimera’s bottom lip before pulling at it with his teeth.

Stiles moans, staring at stormy blue eyes, “I am,” he says when Theo releases his mouth. 

“Prove it,” his Alpha challenges. He knows just the thing. Theo may be stronger, but at times like this, he has no problem letting Stiles use his own strength and win. Flipping them over, the Alpha lets out a laugh. “What did you have in mind, Kitten?” 

“You’re a smart boy, Daddy,” Stiles purrs, hooking his fingers into the Alpha’s waistband of his sweats. “I’m sure you can figure it out,” he says, pulling them down his ankles before crawling back up, hooded amber eyes never leaving Theo’s blues. Not even slightly worried about repercussions for what he’s said. 

Theo just smiles at him, “take what you want.” 

Stiles plans on doing just that. Trailing kisses along Theo’s clavicle, the chimera flattens his tongue, gliding down to one of his nipples before biting it. He’s given a sharp hiss of breath and the Alpha’s back arching off the bed. Stiles gives the other the same treatment, staving the burn of the bite with swirling licks before continuing his way down. Blunt teeth raking across his mate’s abs. Theo has to be painfully hard the way he’s fisting the sheets as his cock is digging into Stiles’ chest. 

Mouthing at the dampening spot from Theo’s precum, Stiles rumbles in his chest at the taste, desperate to make more of it come out. Licking the wet spot he’d created, Theo moans, his hands trying so hard to stay on the bed and let Stiles do as he pleases. The chimera can’t take it anymore. The taste of him through his underwear isn’t enough. Stiles needs Theo’s dick in his mouth yesterday. 

But he’s also torn with wanting to tease the living hell out of his mate. Deciding to meet halfway, Stiles oh, so slowly pulls the restricting fabric down the Alpha’s legs. Ignoring the beautifully hard cock practically standing at attention for him, Stiles locks eyes with Theo, sticks his tongue out, and licks his balls bottom to top. Loving the way the Alpha’s eyes roll back before pinching closed as he moans. Thighs tightening around the chimera for a moment. 

God, Theo’s moans give him fucking life. But when he does this; licks the same pathway as before but doesn’t stop, slides his tongue all the way up Theo’s leaking shaft before taking it in his mouth in its entirety. And Theo practically mewls? That right there. That is the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. Stiles rumbles in his chest with glee, ever so slowly bobbing his head on Theo’s cock. 

When the Alpha hits the back of his throat and the chimera growls, Theo snaps. His hand comes up to grab the short hairs at the back of Stiles’ neck and he bucks his hips. Fucking into Stiles’ mouth like he owns it. Which, he does. It’s amazing. Stiles fucking loves it and he relaxes his throat to make sure he doesn’t gag. Theo likes when he gags, but that just means that his dick would need to leave his mouth and Stiles wants anything but that. 

“Look at you,” Theo coos, his free hand coming up to smear the wetness around his chin. “You’re so pretty with my cock down your throat, Kitten.” 

Flashing his blue eyes at his mate with a smile on his face, saliva drips from the corners of his mouth. Theo’s eyes glow red in response, staying that way. Even when Stiles reaches up to cradle his balls, he hums. Relishing the sweet sounds from Theo in comparison to the rough treatment of his cock. 

The fingers in his hair grip tightly, “I’m close,” Theo pants, trying to hold on. “Am I gonna come in your mouth or will you let me paint that pretty face of yours?” 

A wave of heat curls in his gut, Stiles so badly wants that. So when the Alpha’s thrusts get jagged, the chimera taps his cheek, telling Theo it’s more than okay. With a growled moan, Theo doubles his efforts, grunting and moaning before he’s yanking himself out of Stiles’ mouth. The chimera barely has enough time to lean back on his ankles before the Alpha is on his knees jerking himself off. Hot, pearly ropes of come spray Stiles’ face, his mouth open and eyes closed. “Wait here,” Theo instructs.

Not like Stiles can go anywhere if he wanted to. There’s come in his left eyelashes and some starting to drip from his right eyebrow, forcing him to keep his eyes closed. When he hears Theo come back, Stiles wipes a line off his cheek before sucking it clean. Chills run down his spine when his mate growls at his action. A warm, wet towel is carefully rubbed along his face until Stiles no longer feels sticky. Theo’s lips are on him before Stiles can even muster some sarcastic comment about proving it.

“Thank you for that, Kitten,” Theo says against his mouth. “You sure know how to make a guy feel wanted.” 

“I’m still playing,” Stiles reiterates. Provided Coach isn’t able to forfeit. 

Theo rumbles in his chest, “fine,” though he accepts defeat. “But we’re all coming with you then. Not just me. You can’t concentrate on everything and play your game.” 

“Deal.” 

“Now come here,” Theo smiles as he growls, yanking Stiles back to the bed to return the favor.

---

Regret. Instant fucking regret swirls inside Stiles’ stomach like a virus. He wants to puke, it’s so intense. Why he thought Scott would let it go is beyond him. Foolish hope? Stiles knew they would have to see one another being on the same team and the wolf being captain and all. But he wasn’t prepared to be yanked aside by the Beta after he was wildly unsuccessful at getting Coach to forfeit the game. 

The chimera almost felt bad for the wolf. He wanted the game canceled too, only being here as a precaution if it’s not. Finstock looked Scott right in the eyes with a half crazed grin, saying as long as he’s coach, Beacon Hills High will never forfeit. It was the grin that did it for Stiles. Coach has always seemed a little off, but man, that expression was a bit much.

“Stiles,” Scott grips his arm a little too tightly, pulling him away from the bench and the rest of the team. Had Stiles not been a chimera, the wolf would probably be bruising his arm right now. “Please, listen.” 

The chimera yanks his arm free, “you can talk without touching me.” 

“Sorry,” the Beta mumbles, looking at his feet. “Stiles,” puppy dog brown eyes meet his, “you’re supposed to be my best friend. Things- things aren’t supposed to be like this. We’re a team, always have been. Theo messed with your head,” Scott insists and Stiles scoffs, not bothering to hide his growl. “Whatever he’s forcing you to do, you can still walk away from. You don’t have to be with him. It’s not right. You don’t hurt people like he does.”

Stiles laughs, actually laughs at the stupidity coming out of his once best friend’s mouth. “Oh, but I have hurt people, Scotty,” the chimera deadpans the name. A once term of endearment, now a taunt. 

“I can get over the fact that you had to kill Donovan to-”

“I’m not talking about Donovan,” Stiles shakes his head. “Look at my pack, Scott.” Theo growls happily at his words, the chimera smiles, “yeah, you heard me, Theo. Notice anything, Scott? Maybe something missing? Or rather, someone?”

Scott’s eyes scan the crowd until he finds Theo and the rest of their pack. His brows pinch momentarily before widening and the wolf gasps, “Tracy.” 

“Yeah,” Stiles draws out the word. “She really pissed me off.” 

“But, sh-she’s your pack!” Scott argues. At least he’s willingly admitting that part. A true commodity. “What could she have possibly done to deserve that?” 

Stiles faces Theo then, the Alpha’s shoulders are set as he watches their exchange. “She tried to take what’s mine.” Theo winks at him. The chimera turns back to Scott, flashing his blue eyes as he growls again. The wolf’s eyes grow comically large at the color. “It’s not wise to try and take something from me, Scott.” 

“No one’s taking me from you, Kitten.”

“You were jealous?” Scott looks at him baffled. 

Stiles scoffs, “see, this is one of the reasons why I’m with Theo. I love him, yes. But no matter what I do, good or bad, he won’t judge me for it and will still love me in return. It’s the same for all of us,” he turns to smile at his mate again, who offers him another wink and whispers ‘always’. Looking back at the wolf, he sighs, “so, no Scott. I’m never crawling back to you. When the Beast is dead, we’re done. You’ll back the fuck off and leave me and my pack alone.” 

“But what about Malia? Lydia? Liam?” 

“Malia and I broke up, first of all. Secondly, she made her bed by going after her mom when we told her it was a bad idea and really fucking dangerous. She chose not to listen and got herself killed.” Stiles rolls his eyes, wanting this exchange to be over. “As far as Lydia is concerned, she’s with us. Said so herself. It was an accident that she ended up in Eichen and Theo and I worked really hard to make it right. But she was a willing participant.” Stiles twists the knife a little deeper, “you probably shouldn’t have attacked Corey like that. She and Mason really didn’t like it.” The chimera finds the young wolf talking to Hayden at the bottom of the stands, “Liam is more than capable of making his own choices.” 

“What about me?” Scott asks, sounding incredibly soft, shoulder hauncing to appear small. 

“What about you?” Stiles eyebrows rise, somehow surprised that the once Alpha turned this around on himself. It should be expected by now. 

“You’re-” Scotts shuffles on his feet, wiggling his arm for a moment, “you’re my best friend. We’re-”

“Stop,” Stiles shoots a gloved hand up. “We haven’t been best friends since a fox demon wearing my face killed Allison. I mean,” the chimera sarcastically laughs, “you didn’t even notice that I was a chimera. You didn’t care that I had almost died. That’s how I was turned, Scott. When Parrish flipped my jeep, I was dying.” The chimera points towards the stands, knowing his mate is still listening. “Theo was there. Theo is the one who saved me. The one who keeps saving me!” 

“It was all part of his plan-”

“He’d been looking after and checking on me for weeks! When no one else did! To be honest, Malia and I emotionally broke up long before the words were ever actually said. And it was always Theo who was there when I needed someone. You couldn’t even be bothered to ask me how I was doing when Lydia was attacked. You haven’t paid attention to anyone but yourself! I’m fucking done, Scott. We are done.” 

The whistle blows and Scott looks wounded, even more so than his usual kicked puppy look, “Stiles, please. Tell me how to make this right,” the wolf says, mimicking Stiles’ words from the night the once Alpha kicked him out of the pack. Whether Scott realizes that or not, the chimera couldn’t care less. 

"There's nothing to make right." Shoving his helmet on his head, Stiles heads towards the field, “I choose Theo.” A massive weight lifts off his chest finally having washed his hands of Scott. He said his piece in full. Anything the wolf does from here on out is of his own stupidity and unwillingness to listen to anyone but himself. Stiles is done. 

“That looked fun,” Brett chuckles lightly, kneeling in front of Stiles for the faceoff. “Trouble in paradise?” 

“Scott just can’t seem to take a hint,” Stiles sets his stick near the ball, waiting for the second whistle. “Had to be crystal clear this time.” He’s not sure why he’s explaining himself to the wolf. They shared a few pleasantries after Stiles helped save his life during the deadpool. But regardless of how Liam feels about Brett, Satomi’s Beta has never been unkind to him. He can be friendly.

“Fair enough,” Brett grins behind his helmet. “Watch yourself out there.” It’s not a threat, but an actual concern. With Theo’s approval, Stiles had called the wolf to explain everything that’s been going on with the Beast after Brett searched the woods with Liam. He was assured the information would be passed onto Satomi. They’re more than up to date on what could happen tonight. 

“You too,” Stiles tries not to let worry seep in, “expect anything.” 

The wolf nods curtly. 

The shrill sound of the whistle springs them to action and Stiles narrowly manages to win the face off. Getting the ball before Brett and darting across the field. The chimera dodges a blur of a green jersey, only to throw himself in the path of another. He tries to pivot around the massive guy gunning for him but at the last second, Liam barrels into the other player, knocking him to the grass. Clearing the way for Stiles to get closer to the goal, grip his stick, throw the ball and score the first point of the night. 

Cheers erupt from their side of the stands. But above all else, everyone’s joyful yells, the only one Stiles cares about is Theo’s. Loud and proud, echoing in his ears. It washes over Stiles like a blanket, spreading warmth all around. He wasn’t trying to show off for his mate, but the chimera feels the need to preen at his Alpha’s approval. Sports doesn’t seem like something Theo would care about, so knowing he’s kind of into it because Stiles is playing warms his heart.

With the help from Liam, they’re able to get one more point in before Devenford quits playing around. Brett, unshockingly so, begins to wipe the field with their faces. He’s pissed, Stiles had hoped his chimera abilities would help him out a bit here; guess it’s true what they said about born wolves being stronger. Liam’s pissed; there was an audible crack of his bone breaking and being reset. Hell, even Kira’s pissed and she never gets angry about things. At least not this badly. 

Brett had just knocked her out of his way so hard that she nearly flew before hitting the ground. Hard. Kira is really fucking mad, she hops back up and without a second thought, the kitsune raises her stick and whacks the wolf beside the head. Also very fucking hard. Brett instantly loses his footing and his helmet goes flying as he crashes to the ground. 

The referee blows his whistle, “you’re done! Get off the field! Now!”

Yikes. 

“What’s going on with her?” Theo asks him from the stands as Stiles watches the kitsune walk to the edge of the bleachers.

Stiles skids to a halt, watching Liam scoop the ball up from a dazed Brett and carry it across the field for a goal. “I have no fucking idea,” the chimera huffs. “Did she just speak Japanese? I heard that, right?” 

“Yeah,” Scott comes up beside him. “She’s been doing that lately. Her fox is getting out of control. She didn’t need to be in the game anymore. Kira could’ve really hurt someone. We’re lucky it was just Brett.” 

“Just. Brett,” Stiles repeats blankly. Scott purposefully antagonized Kira so she’d get kicked out of the game. Made her set her sights on Brett because he’s a werewolf, so his injury ‘wouldn’t matter’. All because Scott can’t be bothered to figure out how to help his girlfriend. “You’re a fucking idiot,” the chimera chastises the wolf, rushing to the blonde still flat on his back, picking his helmet up along the way. “You good, man?” Stiles crouches beside the wolf, gently patting his shoulder. 

Brett pinches his eyes closed, slowly sitting back up before trying to rapidly shake his head clear. “Yeah,” he blinks hard a few times, rubbing the back of his head, “she hits hard.”

“She’s a pissed off kitsune, did you expect any less?” Stiles huffs his laugh, offering the wolf his helmet. 

“Thanks,” Brett replies as Stiles helps him to his feet. Cautiously holding his arms out to make sure the wolf doesn’t fall back down. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” 

The air shifts. The feeling of fog spilling over a cemetery kind of shift. Anxiety inducing. Dread fueled. What the fuck is going on? Is this his wolf and coyote sensing something close? He takes his helmet off, glancing at Brett. The wolf stands stalk straight, but his nostrils are flared like he’s trying to find a scent. No one has done anything on the field yet. Can everyone feel this?

“Theo,” Stiles’ eyes scan the edge of the woods, trying to find any movement. Even after yanking his helmet off to hear better, the news vans are pretty quiet too. Almost too quiet. “Something’s wrong. Do you feel that?”

“Yeah,” his Alpha’s tone is serious with a dangerous edge to it.

“Brett, do you-” Stiles clamps his mouth shut at the sound of a deep, low growl. Not like any of the weres he’s familiar with. Not even Peter or Deucalion sounded that vicious. “Someone tell me I’m the only one who heard that,” the chimera pleads, the feeling of wanting to throw up coming back to the surface.

“Sorry, Stiles,” Brett’s eyes are glowing gold when he faces the wolf, “I hear it too.” 

Liam and Scott come up beside them, all trying to find the source, the latter saying, “we all do.”

“I don’t see anything,” Theo growls from the bleachers. 

A violent, loud roar rips through the air, causing screams to erupt from the stands. Chaos quickly ensues as people try to flee the lacrosse field quicker than they can. “Get Mason out of here,” Theo says and is next to him in seconds and the only people left in the area are the supernatural creatures. The air once again getting eerily quiet. 

Stiles catches a glimpse of Corey and the human running under the bleachers before they take hands and literally disappear. 

Making a mental note of who’s here, Stiles wants to like their odds. Him, Theo, Hayden, and Josh. Scott and Liam. Kira, who’s still muttering in Japanese, but hey, maybe her rage will be useful. Then Brett and Lori. Nine to one. That’s gotta be something, right? Something good? 

“Do you have them?” Stiles asks. Theo’s knees are bent, eyes glowing red, ready for anything and he simply nods. “I think you’re going to need them.”

As if his words summoned the Beast, one of the news vans flips, crashing into the other one. The Beast leaps, landing onto the field with a massive thud that shakes the earth, letting out a deafening roar. 

“No one said it was that big,” Stiles’ mouth falls open.

Liam shudders beside him, “I did.” 

“I got your back,” Theo’s eyes are still a menacing scarlett when they make contact. 

“Me too,” Stiles agrees, crashing his mouth to his mate’s for a hasty, good luck kiss. The pair Beta shift, Stiles checks his grip on his lacrosse stick. It may not do much, but with added supernatural strength maybe he can stab one of its legs and at the very least slow it down. 

Kira, surprisingly, isn’t the first one to go after the Beast, rather Liam is. The young Beta rushes across the field, earning him a shrill roar from the massive chimera. Everyone is quick to follow, not wanting him to do this alone. Yanking his gloves off along the way, his claws snick out and Liam shoves off the ground, jumping directly on the Beast’s chest. The Beta pierces the smoky flesh before larger claws dig into him and throw him across the field. 

“Liam!” Scott and Hayden cry out. 

The latter runs back towards the wolf and Stiles and Theo absolutely let her. They can smell his blood already. That can’t be a good sign and she should be as far away from this thing as possible. The once Alpha, powered by his anger over the younger wolf, reaches the Beast first, swiping at its legs only to be kicked away. Flying through the air just as far as the blonde had. And landing just as hard. He’s not getting up either. Shit. This thing is brutal. 

Clearly tired of standing around and waiting to be attacked, the Beast moves for them. Kira waves her lacrosse stick around as though it were her kitana, trying to keep the monster’s claws away. She’s successful for half a minute before the Beast has her by the throat and tosses her towards the bleachers. Her body hitting the metal seats echoes the area. Good thing she had her helmet on still. She’s somehow getting on her feet again. 

With a single swipe of its arm, the Beast throws Brett so hard that he crashes into Lori. The siblings knock heads on their way down. Also not getting up. Fantastic.

That leaves Stiles and Theo, side by side, staring at the advancing chimera. Breaking the edge of his lacrosse stick so it’s now pointed, Stiles waits until the Beast is too close to avoid it and tosses it like a javelin. It lands in the meaty part of the Beast’s thigh and it lets out a howl of pain. Not too affected by it, the Beast literally backhands him to the ground, hard enough to knock the wind out of him momentarily. Its claws dig into Theo’s chest, lifting him up and slamming him on the ground, claws still buried. 

“No!” Stiles yells, adrenaline moving his body for him. Wiping the blood from his lip, the chimera lunges, grabbing the stick and twisting it in the Beast’s leg, earning him another pained cry. “Oh shit.” The Beast whips towards him, stalking closer and Stiles stumbles back to keep their distance. Stiles’ back hits the pole on the edge of one of the goals, he’s trapped. He’s going to die. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“Stiles!” Theo yells, rolling onto his side, coughing wetly as he digs in his jacket pocket. A small glass jar flies through the air towards him, which Stiles catches effortlessly. Thank you chimera reflexes or he surely wouldn’t have. It’s clearly taking all of Theo’s strength to be able to keep himself lifted to watch what happens. 

Quick hands yank the cork out, hastily putting the talons over his own claws. With not a second to spare. Because as soon as the talons begin to glow, the Beast is right there and Stiles shoves them into the massive chimera’s heart. It’s vibrant, almost white eyes flicker. Stiles can feel the life draining through the talons. He doesn’t care about the power, Stiles just wants it dead.

“No!” Scott yells. Guess someone came to. Stiles for half a second wishes that it’s because he’s in danger. But even the chimera isn’t that stupid. Of course the wolf’s pissed off about killing it even after this thing could have easily killed all of them. 

The Beast spits up blood and Stiles has half a thought to feel like he’s winning. Until claws dig into his sides and Stiles screams. White hot pain flaring in his ribs and lungs, making him choke. But he refuses to let up, no matter how lightheaded he’s getting. His legs feel like jello. Suddenly, Theo’s head pops up from behind the Beast’s shoulder and his own claws dig into its throat. The crunch of it dislodging is audible to everyone’s ears and Scott shouts again. 

Stiles yanks his hand away and the talons shatter off his fingertips, chunks falling into the bloodied grass. Theo just barely manages to land while the Beast is shrinking. A crumpled body of a teenage girl Stiles doesn’t recognize falls to the ground in a heap. Blood staining the grass from the teenage girl's missing trachea. The Beast is dead. Holy shit, the Beast is fucking dead!

It’s over.

They did it!

Clutching his sides, Stiles is ready to keel over himself. He’s healing, he can feel it, but it’s slower than he’d like and a nap sounds beautiful. The Beast’s claws are pretty huge, these wounds are fucking deep. He can mostly breathe, so if they punctured his lungs, his healing is working overtime to allow air in them. Fuck, this hurts. Stiles’ knees give out, the field spinning wildly.

As expected, Theo catches the chimera just as he begins to stumble, taking some of his pain. It’s not much since he has his own wounds to heal, but it’s enough that Stiles isn’t worried about passing out anymore. “I’ve got you,” the Alpha assures him, helping him stay upright. Hayden limps over with Liam, who’s bleeding profusely from his chest. “Get him out of here,” Theo instructs her. “Take him to Deaton, maybe he’ll still help Scott’s Beta.” 

The wolf in question races over to them looking positively enraged. “What the fuck did you do?” Scott growls at the pair, eyes flashing gold. “You killed her!”

Standing on his own, Stiles growls right back, “we killed the Beast who had taken over her body. We did what needed to be done!”

“This is all your fault!” Scott shoves at Theo. 

Bad fucking move. 

Before Stiles even gets the chance to lunge in his defense, Theo’s claws slash Scott across the chest, spraying blood on the ground. The Beta’s knees fall to the damp grass as he groans. Theo kicks the wolf in his wounds to make sure the once Alpha stays down. “Come on, Kitten,” Theo loops Stiles’ arm over his shoulder, “let’s get you home.” Kissing his temple, the Alpha helps him to the truck. 

When they get to the tunnels, Corey, Mason, and Josh are waiting for them. Theo sets him down in the medical chair and rushes to grab supplies. Part of Stiles wants to tell the Alpha not to worry about it, but something else tells him that his mate needs to do something. Something that’ll make him feel of use and needed. Stiles is all too familiar with the feeling, so he says nothing. 

“You guys look like shit,” the raiju says in way of covering up his worry. 

All of their emotions are drowning the room in dread and relief in equal measure. It’s dizzying. 

“You’re alive,” Mason grins. “Hayden texted, she said Deaton is helping Liam. He’s going to be okay.”

Corey’s face is just as mixed as the scents in the room. “Are you okay?” He asks in a small voice. 

Stiles peels his jersey off, taking in the blood sticking to his skin, the wounds almost healed. “About as okay as I can be,” he says and the Alpha whines, wiping the caked substance with a wet cloth. Stiles hisses in pain, jolting when alcohol replaces the cloth. “Fuck,” his claws pinch into the cushioned arm rests, tearing the material. 

“They’re almost healed,” Theo says quietly, “but you should still clean them when they’re this deep. Internal wounds take longer.” His worry is the most pungent of all as he dutifully cleans the chimera. Letting out a whine when Stiles jolts in pain, rumbling softly in his chest when he passes over a larger hole than the last. 

“Hey,” the chimera cups his mate’s cheeks, making him look up. Though Theo closes his eyes and sighs. “Theo, look at me.” The Alpha only growls again, pinching his brows and trying to drop his head again. “Daddy, please,” Stiles whispers and sad, blue eyes meet him finally. “I’m okay,” he sees no wounds underneath the shreds of Theo’s shirt, “you’re okay. We’re all okay.”

“She got her claws in you and I-” Theo breaks off in a shudder.

Josh pipes up, “she?”

“The Beast was a chick,” Stiles supplies, not looking away from his mate.

“I almost lost you,” Theo’s eyes get a little bloodshot and wet, voice thick. “I saw her claws go in and I was on her back before I even knew what happened.” The Alpha takes a quaky breath, “I- I thought I- I thought-”

Stiles silences him, covering Theo’s mouth with his own. The Alpha whines deeply in his throat, returning the kiss fiercely. Crushing their mouths together and digging his fingers in Stiles’ hair. “You didn’t. It’s going to be okay,” Stiles repeats, resting their foreheads together. “Let’s clean up, get changed and get some fucking food here. Have a normal ending to a wild fucking day. All right?”

“Yeah,” Theo agrees, sealing their mouths together once more.

---

“We have a problem,” Hayden bursts through the doors to the operating theater.

“What’d Liam do now?” Stiles snickers from where he’s curled beside his mate. Not thinking there could be literally any other problem right now. They spent the last two days in the tunnels just to wait until Scott had enough time to cool off. Turns out the reason the Doctors hadn’t disposed of the last body is because when they perfected their Beast, it killed them. They’d found them in a section of the tunnels last night.

“I don’t mean Liam,” she counters, “I mean Scott.” 

Theo and Stiles are on their feet quickly, joining the other chimeras in the main room. 

“What’s going on?” Theo crosses his arms. 

“He’s coming,” Hayden says. “Liam and Kira are with him. Scott is really angry. He’s on his way. Here. Right now.” 

“Stay here,” Theo growls at them, stalking out the doors. 

Yeah, he’s so not letting the Alpha do this himself. He’s more than capable, but Stiles wanted Scott to leave them alone when this was over. Well, it’s fucking over. He ignores Josh’s, “don’t,” and dashes out to meet his mate. 

He catches up with Theo just in time for them to turn the corner and find the three waiting for them. Hayden was right, Scott looks really fucking mad. Liam looks pained, a weird twist to his features like he doesn’t want to be here. “I’m sorry,” the young wolf mutters, barely meeting Stiles’ gaze. Kira is holding her sword beside him. 

Well this can’t be good. 

“You’re too much of a problem, Theo,” Scott seethes. 

What the fuck is that supposed to mean? 

“Your sister wants to talk to you,” Kira says before slamming her sword into the ground.

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

The concrete cracks open, shooting down between the two chimeras and behind them. Turning to follow the break, the cracks glow with a blue light until an actual hole opens in the ground. “What the fuck?” Stiles says in disbelief. 

And if it couldn’t get any fucking weirder, a hand pops out from the ground. Stiles and Theo stare at it dumbly as one becomes two and a mess of dark curls emerges. Stiles remembers her; Tara. Theo’s sister. How in the fuck is she here? 

“T-Tara?” Theo’s eyes widen and her hand wraps around his ankle. 

Stiles’ heart threatens to beat right out of his ribcage watching the sight. He immediately goes to reach for Theo, only to have his arms pulled behind his back by Scott. “No,’ he grinds his teeth, yanking himself free from the former Alpha’s arms. By the time he gets close enough to his mate, Theo’s arms are ready to slip off the edge. Quickly, Stiles grabs his hand before he can fall, “I’ve got you,” he grunts, trying to pull the Alpha back up. 

Tara has a firm hold of him. 

“Stiles, let go,” Theo says, sweat glossing his forehead. “I won’t let you get hurt too,” he grunts, trying to keep his grip. “It’s okay, Kitten, let me go.”

His tone is so soft it’s bringing tears to the chimera’s eyes. “No,” Stiles’ voice is thick with emotion; it's practically a sob. Scott tries to grab his arm again and rage burns inside him. 

“Stiles, this isn’t you,” the wolf grunts with his efforts trying to pull him away. 

The chimera snarls, rearing back with his free hand to claw at Scott’s face. He hits his mark beautifully, watching angry, red slashes break the skin and the now Beta stumbles back. The jerkiness of his action to get Scott away, loosened his grip too much on Theo. His mate’s fingers slip through his and Theo falls in. There isn’t even a shred of hesitation or thought.

Stiles dives in after him.

Ch 13

[devildomimagines]

MC Almost Gets Abducted by a Flying Demon

Hello~

You ever just have an idea that occupies your head and won’t go away until you write it? Yeah this was one of those.

You’re out with your favorite demon brother and some demon thinks it would be a good idea to try to take you away.

Warning for angst, injuries and kidnapping attempts.

Belphegor

The day had passed without event. Belphie and you were relaxing under a tree in the park.

You offered to go buy some drinks. 

Although he was clearly comfortable, he offered to get the drinks instead.

You smiled as you watched him push himself up and trudged to the closest store. Who said he was selfish?

A few leaves had fallen on the blanket while you had been watching Belphie. You brushed them off.

As you waited for his return a couple more leaves fell. Annoyed, you brushed them off and looked up at the tree.

You were not expecting to make eye contact with a demon in the branches that was already watching you.

Before your mind could make a connection, the demon swooped down and grabbed your arm and leg.

“Belphegor!” You hollered as you clung to the branch with your free arm. The demon was strong and it felt like you would either lose your grip or be torn in half if this kept up any longer.

Belphie was back in a flash, he was already in his demon form.

He was looking between you and the demon trying to figure out what he can do when your grip on the branch faltered.

His tail shot out and grabbed your arm. The barbs bit at your skin but the tuft of soft hair at the end of his tail rested gently against your face reassuring as he moved you towards him.

Once close enough, Belphie grabbed your hand and arm and removed his tail.

The demon looked back to see what was happening and why they couldn’t make their escape. They locked eyes with Belphie’s glare and immediately dropped you to run.

Luckily you were closer to the ground now and fell onto the blanket, your arm still in Belphie’s grasp.

You tried to take a few deep breaths but when you looked up at Belphie, you just broke.

He sat down in front of you and hugged you to his body as your cries were released. Belphie whispered, “I’m sorry MC.”

He felt guilty having left you alone and then further hurting you with the spikes on his tail. The places that the demon had been pulling on you were already blooming into bruises. It reminded him of the time in the attic and his emotions are spiraling. 

When he pulls away slightly to double check your injuries, you see his eyes are watery, tears threatening to spill at any second but he was putting on a brave face for you. You tried to do the same in the moment, for him.

Beelzebub

The two of you had been walking down the street when an ice cream stand caught his attention.

You sat on the nearby bench waiting for him to return.

He was on the way back to you, his ice cream already finished and he was eyeing yours, maybe just a lick?

That is until he heard your scream. He dropped the ice cream to run back to where he left you.

You weren’t on the bench and his heart dropped into his stomach as he looked around. 

You saw him from the air and howled, “Beel!!”

He instantly looked up and found you. Beel ran through the streets transforming into his demon form until he was underneath you and the demon. With a powerful jump, he was flying straight up towards you.

The demon was surprised at the speed that Beel was approaching. In a desperate attempt to leave with their life, the demon threw you to the side and escaped the other way.

You screamed as you started plummeting towards the ground.

Beel was fast and caught you before you could fall far.

You gripped at his clothes as tightly as you could, with hiccupping sobs you whispered his name over and over, “Beel, Beel.”

He hugged you into his body firmly, “I’ve got you,” he assured as you two lowered to the ground, his wings buffering the descent.

Once on the pavement, he placed you back on your feet gently and only pried you away to assess injuries. “Are you ok? Where does it hurt?”

You rubbed your eyes and face, trying to regain composure to answer but the sensation of Beel pushing you away hurt and made you feel worse.

He promptly pulled you back into a hug, noting your crying was worse than when he held you.

“I want to go home,” you finally requested.

Beel nodded and picked you up to carry you back to the House of Lamentation.

Asmodeus

Asmo was surrounded by a group of his fans.

These encounters usually didn’t take long. They would snap a few pictures, he might sign something he collaborated on, a few more pictures or videos and they would be on their way.

This was one of the times where you weren’t included, sometimes being a human was interesting enough to warrant a picture but today’s group only wanted Asmo’s attention.

This was pretty common so you didn’t mind stepping aside and waiting while he did his thing. You were secure enough to know he’d come back to you once he appeased his fans.

With the free moment, you took out your D.D.D. to check the time. 

You two were still ahead of schedule so another moment for the fans wouldn’t be an issue.

That is until your snatched into the air. You dropped your D.D.D. in surprise and screamed.

Asmo was looking for you and spotted your form struggling in the air.

He was angry and the fans backed up a few steps when he changed into his demon form.

One bold fan tried to hold him in place for a quick picture and he brushed them off.

His attention was completely on you and he jumped into pursuit.

His wings were out of practice but he still gained on the demon.

You cried out for him and he tried to offer you a reassuring smile that you would be safe soon.

The demon looked over its shoulder at Asmo’s chase and when their eyes met, Asmo began charming them. “Release MC~”

The demon slowed and started letting you go.

Asmo swooped in and caught you as the demon completely removed its talons from your clothes.

“It’s ok, it’s ok,” Asmo began soothing as he flew as far away as he could.

“Asmo,” you whimpered into his neck.

“I know MC, I’m so sorry, that must have been really scary.”

He held you close all the way home and for a long time after.

Satan

You had been enjoying your time with Satan at an outdoor cafe.

He went inside briefly to get refills. As he was reminding the barista what you each had, he heard a commotion, broken glassware and chairs scuffing the ground, “another fight?” a tired employee asked.

Then you screamed Satan’s name. His breath stopped as he pushed people out of his way to get back outside.

Your table was on its side and you were fighting the demon that was dragging you along by your hair and an arm.

You happened to look back and found Satan. “Help!”

You didn’t have to ask, he turned to his demon form in a fiery flash. Most other demons vacated, no one wanted to stick around the warpath of Wrath incarnate.

His tail whipped the demon’s leg holding your hair. The demon screeched and released its hold.

The release was enough for you to throw your weight away from the demon, that and another whip of Satan’s tail had you freed.

You stumbled towards Satan and he caught you.

“You’re hurt!” he observed, scandalized and new rage bubbling. If you didn’t need medical attention, he’d be hunting the demon.

You were shaken. Your trembling hand went to the scratches and punctures on your arm and shoulder. Although it came away bloody, you didn’t yet feel the pain, “huh.”

“MC?” Satan asked, now worried about your lack of response. He started smoothing your hair while searching your eyes.

“Hm?” You responded but your eyes were glazed over, not really seeing him.

“You’re in shock,” Satan determined, “Let’s go home, ok?” He took your hand on the less affected side and began leading you.

“Ok,” you repeated.

About halfway home it started to hit you. Your legs got heavy, the pain in your shoulder and arm started throbbing, and tears threatened to escape your eyes.

When you began slowing, Satan turned to check on you. Your watery eyes and uneven breathing were dead giveaways your shock had worn off. “Come here,” he pulled you into his arms.

“Satan,” you whined, him being sweet was pushing you over the edge.

“I know,” He adjusted his grip and you realized he was getting ready to carry you so you jumped slightly to wrap your legs around him. “I was so scared,” Satan admitted, “I can’t even imagine how you felt.”

With his confession of being afraid, you broke down into a hard cry.

He held you tightly as he carried you the rest of the way home.

Leviathan

Levi had ducked into a store to check if they had the new release of a game. You stayed outside sipping your beverage and scrolling through your D.D.D.

You hadn’t even seen the demon until it had you in its grasp.

“Levi!” you yelled. Would he even hear you from inside the shop? “Leviiii!” You poured everything you had into your next, “Leviathan!!”

He rushed out from the store looking around for you in a panic.

“Over here!” you cried. You tried to undo the claws holding onto you.

The demon wasn’t flying very high, maybe to keep a low profile.

Levi ran through the crowd, gaining ground on you and the demon. He was already in his demon form and his eyes never left you.

As soon as he was in range, his tail extended and wrapped around the demon’s ankle holding it in place.

The demon struggled for a minute but decided you were not worth the head-on fight with one of the rulers of the realm.

The demon dropped you and you fell the short distance to the pavement, your legs weren’t ready and you collapsed.

Levi was in front of you in a second. You looked up to see he was flustered, angry, and searching you for injuries.

Your shoulders throbbed and your ankles and knees beat in the same rhythm but that wasn’t why you were crying. No, you were crying because, for maybe the first time in the Devildom, you were scared.

Levi wasn’t sure what to say but he couldn’t stand by and watch you cry. He crouched down and held you for a moment before picking you up off the floor.

You wrapped your hands around his neck seeking comfort in his familiar presence.

Your sobs quieted as he walked you two home. When the roaring in your ears died down, you could hear he was talking, maybe rambling. 

You still weren’t in a mental place to make sense of what he was saying but you could tell his words were filled with love trying to distract you.

Mammon

It was flea market day, which meant the two of you were browsing the selection.

Mammon was fond of the flea market because, “Ya never know what you’ll find and one demon’s trash is another’s treasure.”

The stalls lined the street and Mammon flitted from side to side checking out the vendors.

He was totally in his element, bargaining prices and sifting through piles of goods.

You mainly walked along the middle path, maybe following Mammon up to a vendor if something caught your eye. Right now you were at a separate stall but still close by.

Unfortunately not close enough when a demon decided you were the prize of the flea market.

They swooped down and picked you up into the air by your waist.

The pressure made it hard to take a big gulp of air so your call to Mammon was too weak to hear over the crowd.

You tried to pour all your magic ability into your pact with Mammon to alert him.

It worked! Mammon was in the middle of the street looking around for you.

You tried yelling again, “Mammon!”

He looked up and locked on to you.

You never saw him turn into his demon form so fast. He was airborne in the next second.

The demon grunted when he realized he was being followed. They looked down to see it was Mammon.

When they made eye contact, Mammon growled loud enough, even from a distance, to show how angry he was.

The demon must have decided you weren’t worth the hassle and dropped you.

Finally able to yell at full capacity you wailed for Mammon. You landed in his arms.

“I got you,” he comforted as he watched the demon fly away. He wouldn’t let this go, no one steals his treasure.

At the sound of your crying, Mammon looked down at you holding onto his collar and hiding your face in his neck.

“I’ve got you MC,” he reminded, softer this time. He shifted you so you could properly hug him as he started towards home.

Lucifer

He looked away for only a second when someone called out to him. His grip on you loosened and then he let go as he dealt with the person who had drawn his attention.

It was long enough for the demon to swoop in overhead.

The shock took over at first and you were frozen as the demon’s talons clawed at your shoulders.

When you regained some semblance of recognition, you called “L-Luci-” but the demon wrapped its tail around your mouth to silence you.

You tried to get the tail off to try calling again when you caught his face in the crowd, slowly getting further away.

He saw you hold a hand out for him with the other still desperately trying to pull at the tail from around your head.

Lucifer quickly transformed into his demon form and jumped into the air.

The demon was quick, dodging between other flyers, and through architecture, they clearly had planned their escape to some degree.

The demon had not planned on how fast Lucifer was in the sky. He doesn’t usually fly around to get from one place to another but he had centuries of flight experience under his belt.

He was close, maybe five feet away. He could hear your muffled cries and could see the tears staining your face.

The rage and hurt you found on his face was unlike anything you had seen on his features.

Lucifer had caught up without the demon realizing, you gripped at his arms as he silently gauged how he could free you. 

When you started crying harder, he opted for the straightforward answer, he wrapped an arm around your waist and grabbed the tail that was wrapped around your head. The flesh under his hand sizzled and the demon yelped. Instantly, the tail unwrapped your head and the talons released you.

“Lucifer!” You cried as he adjusted his hold on you, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Shh,” Lucifer tried to calm you and his rage, it wasn’t directed at you but it must have left a bad taste for you to apologize. “It’s not your fault.”

“I, I,” but you couldn’t finish the sentence before breaking down once more.

Lucifer felt the tears fall on his neck and shoulder and it hurt as if his own heart was breaking.

He started towards the House of Lamentation silently. He couldn’t think of anything to soothe so he rubbed your back as he supported you in the air.

Once you had calmed enough to find your voice, you asked, “Can we go home?”

“Of course,” Lucifer smiled softly. His heart warmed to hear anything but your crying but especially that you thought of the HOL as home. “We’re almost there.”

[dark-ambition]

The way the spider’s grin seemed to widen at the sight of his flushing skin, the way those striking pink eyes wandered up and down his face, searching, almost leering, like he had discovered exactly what he had been wanting to find and was reveling in it, it had Pentious’s flush grow just that bit further. He had admitted to himself, privately, that the man’s looks were quite striking and physically attractive, even in the heat of their battle earlier that afternoon, and even now he had to admit, that voice beginning to drip with a low, seductive purr, those sweet honeyed pet names that made his heart flutter and his hood twitch, that his methods at the art of sensual charm seemed to be quite effective. Enough that it was having his heart begin to beat harder in his chest, his scales tingle, his mind becoming attuned to the now absent feeling of that hand on his shoulder, that palm and how he could feel it’s heat through his own suit even though it no longer touched his skin. He didn’t dare look away from where Angel stood, didn’t dare to let his gaze wander elsewhere, a blush still growing over his face, still hot against his cheeks.

When Angel moves to press closer, close enough that he could now see the thick layer of glittering pink gloss that now rested against the other’s lips, his back now pressed up against the cold brick wall of a nearby building, he couldn’t help but thank the hells that the crowds were already beginning to clear out and that the streets were thinning of people, that witnesses were becoming sparse. He couldn’t begin to imagine the horror of letting himself get seen being seduced, be witnessed in such a manner, and even now, his eyes still flickered from left to right to see if a shadow was coming around the corner, even as Angel grew so close he could practically feel the man’s breath on his skin. The sensation of his fingers moving to push underneath his bow tie to touch and caress the skin of his collarbone, to slowly slide up and down the fragile and thin skin of his neck, it had his body shudder, had his own hands curl into soft fists by his side, and as he felt other Angel’s hand slowly slide up the side of his throat to drag gentle talons against his jawline, he couldn’t help but lean into the warmth of the other’s palm, ever so slightly moving to tilt his head downward into the other’s hand, his breathing coming out just a bit heavier from before, his skin tingling with the electricity of the touch, his mind enthralled with how close their faces were now, his eyes never moving from Angel’s soft lips.

“…Perhapss, a little..” It was as close to an admission as his flustered and sober mind would allow him. “…If you..desire to..”

❝   AND  WHO  SAID  I  WAS  BEIN’  CONDESCENDIN’  ?    ❞     the spider - demon’s voice is a sultry whisper, growing lower and hotter as angel neared a little closer.  this was customary , checking the waters before diving in.  the more he untangled the mysteries of the snake’s mind, the more he could have to USE TO HIS ADVANTAGE. and  besides   ⸺   angel might’ve been unapologetic with his flirting, but he wasn’t stupid.  no use wasting time on a man who wasn’t even interested in sex with a dude to begin with.

(   but the snake SHUDDERS underneath angel’s delicate touch, his skin warming, his lips parting.  FUCKING  BINGO,  BABY.  )

❝   maybe  .  .  .    ❞       angel speaks slow and soft as he leans in a little closer. their height difference isn’t much, but it’s enough for angel to let his hand travel up, up, before his fingers are gently wrapping around the skin of pentious’ collarbone. he traces the open flesh of his neck with his fingernails, not scratching hard enough to make the other BLEED, but enough to make his prescence very much known.

❝    maybe i jus’ wanted to talk to ‘ya again, handsome.  ‘ya  ever  think  of  that  ?   nothin condescendin’ about that.    ❞

angel’s other hand reaches up to hold the other side of the snake’s neck, traveling up towards his jaw in a feather - light touch. firm enough to make him aware of who exactly was holding him, but GENTLE ENOUGH to give him breathing room   (  WOULDN’T  WANNA  SCARE  HIM  OFF  TOO  QUICK  ).  the heat radiating from the other man’s skin is so potent that it pulls a chuckle from angel’s mouth, breathy and low.

❝   oh, you’re  INTO  THIS,  aren’t ‘ya,  GORGEOUS? want me 'ta keep goin ?    ❞

[ohnoitstbskyen]

"The 2022 High Noon skins"

(remember: shorts are opinionated hot takes delivered quickly, not vehicles for nuance)

SCRIPT(s)

Part 1: A new crop of High Noon skins just dropped, and beyond being yet another reminder how desperately the old High Noon skins need visual updates, what do they have to offer?

Well it's all structured as a big train heist, with a group of champions trying to rob Mordekaiser's infernal Sulfur Rail train, which ferries his victims and the riches he steals and swindles out of people through the gates of hell.

So far we have Mordekaiser, Varus, Talon, Katarina and Leona for revealed skins, with Leona's voice lines revealing that Twitch, Sion, Viktor, Tahm Kench and Samira will be getting a second round of skins as well.

Underneath the train heist, there's an old prophecy about five legendary "Harbingers" - who as far as I can tell are Leona, Varus, Tahm Kench, Katarina and Viktor - who will strike down Mordekaiser and in so doing will possibly, although not for certain, end the world. So the stakes are high on the train heist, and you know what, if you're gonna have a demon infested heaven-and-hell old west, dripping in southern gothic, western myths and delicious edgelord nonsense, a train heist that heralds the End of Days is exactly the kind of tone you should strike with it.

But what about the skins themselves? Well, subscribe for part two.

Part 2:

Watch part one if you haven't, this part two of our look at the new High Noon skins:

Starting off, we have Varus as a dead angel who was nearly content to let Mordekaiser's Sulfur Rail take him to hell, but who is spurred by... something to take up his bow again and join the train heist. As a skin, he's got sort of a Lone Ranger thing going on visually with the mask, but I just don't feel like there's that much THERE beyond "cowboy with a bow," and I feel like the angels are badly underexplored in the High Noon universe.

In the splash we see him battling Talon who... well, Talon's model being Talon's model he doesn't look great in game, but he did get a KILLER short story setting up his narrative called The Stranger On The Road which you should read (or subscribe to my main channel where I will be doing a read-through of it). He's a Devil who has been infected with Angel blood and as a result has grown a conscience that pains him terribly. It's classic half-angel, half-devil edgelord nonsense, which High Noon has maybe a bit too much of already, and again I feel like the design really doesn't do anything interesting with the cowboy aesthetic, he's more or less dressed like Varus, and, like, people did dress more than one way in the old west, y'know, Riot.

Subscribe for part 3, where we’ll tackle Katarina and Mordekaiser.

Part 3:

Part 3 of the High Noon skins, watch 1 and 2 if you haven't:

And here's Katarina, with her daggers which are also guns. Or at least they have gun chambers on them, which... okay, I mean, High Noon has sillier concepts.

She's out for revenge - her people were swindled, Mordekaiser took the spoils, and she means to collect the bounty on his head to even the score. In this regard she's similar to Leona, although it's not clear what if any dynamic the two of them are going to have with each other in the story.

Her design is pretty good - her incredible hairstyle is the showstopper here, which is probably why the rest of the outfit is relatively underplayed in brown and black, and I do like the look of that choker on her.

Which leaves us with Mordekaiser, the Mechanical Devil, the villain of our piece. He runs the train which ferries damned souls and stolen goods to Hell, and while his visual effects are amazing I don't know about the design if I'm honest. He's supposed to be the demon spirit of a ghost train and I'm really missing the presence of steam funnels, pistons, gears, wheels, y'know, all the mechanical stuff that should define him. It all seems to have been loaded on to his mace, which leaves the man himself looking to me far too much like his medieval suit of armor base form, I dunno, I'm a little let down by it.

Anyway, subscribe for part 4, where we finally get to Leona.

Part 4:

Watch parts 1 through 3 if you haven't, but we left the best for last with High Noon Leona, the legendary of the bunch.

And a fair criticism of the skin is that outside of the big shield, it is hard to recognize Leona here. That's part of the general problem of League of Legends women especially having indistinct faces, which this short isn't about, and isn't really this specific skin's fault.

Looking past that, holee SHIT, I dunno about y'all but I think this one is a banger. A the thing that bugs me about High Noon is the human character designs are pretty conservative about fully exploring Old West fashion and aesthetics - it's cowboy hats and leather chaps all the way down, but Leona brings the full gothic southern belle ensemble to the party: Deadly sharp hoop petticoats, frills, laces, ribbons, embroidery, the whole nine yards, and it so much fun just to look at.

She's a woman scorned, her family was robbed by Mordekaiser, and she's leading the heist on his train to get it all back, for which purpose she has acquired... seemingly demonic powers, which manifest as the brimstone butterflies that follow her particle effects, and one of which also sits in her hair as a decorative ornament, which fucking rules.

Interestingly, though, and I do love this detail, Leona is not wearing dainty high society shoes, but big sturdy, riding boots. There's a practical nature underneath all that fashion, which isn't afraid to get its hands dirty.