#my butt is hurting and i am hungry so those are good signs to leave the new queen here and take a break

[dreamrecorder]

Ok so- idk if you’ve seen demon slayer;; but there’s this episode (it was during the spider fambam arc) aNywaYs- so like. Rui yeets ties* (i guess-) Nezuko like. Up in the air. With his weird spider thread jazz— and like. It’s sHarP weird spider thread jazz— so she’s like. Yknow. Being sliced and diced with string— but it kindaaa reminds me of like. Xiao. And his like.... weird... sad.... uh. Karma. Thing. Like y’know where he’s like hanging from his arms- red stuff. Yeah. So like. Now for the actual request

Xiao’s s/o (female if you don’t mind;;) gets kidnapped by like— the fatui or smth. And they tie her up like Nezuko :D to be like “lol haha Xiao be all like-” and she’s just. Like. Dying. Slowly. Dripping b l o o d and yknow. All the tea. And Xiao comes to rescue her— and he’s like 0-0 “wait...” and he realizes that’s like- exactly what happens to him- and so. He beats the fatui’s butts saves his s/o, anddddd she like.

Idk. This is where I need your angst expertise ❤️ like- she could d i e. In his arms. And poor Xiao would be so scarred omg poor thing- BUT THE ANGST- but at the same time;;;; the f l u f f of him being able to save her just in time and she was like fighting for him the whole time or whatever and ended up needing him to save her anyways- and then Xiao feeding her almond tofu until she gets better ❤️❤️❤️

IM SORRY THAT WAS SO LONG- im probably going crazy from lack of sleep from reading fics for too long sndndnsnsj

But if you do this,,, BLESS YOUR SOUL I HOPE TO EITHER BALL MY EYES OUT OR SQUEAL FROM THE WHOLESOMENESS-

Anyways.... thank you! Have a stellar day~ ✨❤️

The heart yearns and the wind heard

lmao this ask is so adorable i hope you’d enjoy this ksks

anyway, full Angst train up ahead but there are moments of Fluff too. There are mentions of blood and violence if those are not your thing- dont worry guys, this goes with a happy ending cos you and Xiao deserve one~ on a final note- non canon compliant and suuuuuuper long- like- legit this is very long

The Yaksha sighs.

He’s here again. His mind and heart has returned his being into this crimson world his demons have created within him.

He feels it. He feels the corruption binding him tighter again for every death he brings by his tainted hands.

He looks at his bindings. And ever so slowly, the red and black coiling around his person will eventually reach his heart.

One day, he thinks, all this crimson and black in this world will swallow him whole and he will see the light no more.

Xiao sighs again.

This is his karmic debt.

~

The moment you stepped foot within Wangshu Inn, you knew he was in his prison again. After giving a quick greeting to the inn keeper, you hastily went to Xiao’s room. The closer you got, the heavier the atmosphere became.

You reached his door and knocked softly. As expected, no reply as he continues to struggle to take back his control over himself. Without hesitation, you stepped in. To anyone else, they would have instantly met his spear at their throats, but with you, this doesn’t happen. Instead, you see him crouched on the wooden floor with a hand on his chest. His knuckles were white and his breathing was ragged. His amber eyes- lost. Observing his form, yes… his moments of corruption are becoming progressively worse.

With swift steps of familiarity to this routine, you went to him and grasped his shoulders.

“Xiao, it’s me…” You whispered with clarity. And oh- how your voice brought a wave of comfort to his soul.

“N-name…” His voice cracked, but him calling to you is always a good sign.

You gave him a small smile and proceeded to grasp his hands together with yours. After which, you then leaned your forehead to his to chant your prayers. As your prayers progressed, slowly but surely, the corruption begins to fade along with the black mist that covered him. However, you took note how this ritual took longer than the last.

Once everything is done, Xiao just slumped onto your shoulders, still breathing deeply. “How are you feeling?” It was a useless question you asked every time this happens, but you always, always, have to make sure.

Usually, he would mutter a small ‘fine,’ but now- words seemed to have left his mind and all he could muster was an almost-unnoticeable shrug.

Truth be told- his response disheartened you, but you did not show it. Instead, you opted to simply encase him in your arms and caress his hair. After all, these are just one of the few, rare moments Xiao would leave himself into your care. Xiao is aware, himself, that his state has been becoming worse and worse. And you both know, that a day would come when he would just attack anyone- friend or foe- without a trace of hesitation. So, just this time- he speaks his feelings.

“Name?”

You answered immediately with a questioning hum.

“What would you do… when I finally lose control over myself?”

It was very subtle, but he felt how your hand stopped caressing his hair for a second, then proceeded to the previous task at hand again. In all honestly, you can never find yourself having an answer to that question. “And why would I ever let that happen to you?” You questioned back, fully aware that you were dodging his question.

Silence surrounded the two of you, unsure on what to do with the sudden heavier atmosphere.

Not wanting to face the cruelty of the world yet, Xiao simply buried himself on the crook of your neck even more. And despite the ghostly sensation of his lips on your skin, you could feel him mouth the words ‘I love you.’

“As long as I’m here,” you whispered, “nothing can hurt you.” And that was the most beautiful lie that the Yaksha has heard, but he was willing to believe all the same.

~

When word about Fatui diplomats starting a bank reached you, there was a nagging feeling in your head that trouble would bring itself present anytime soon. It was like an itch that wouldn’t get away. And the only way to have that itch gone is to scratch it.

“You are absolutely a fool.” Xiao stated darkly with crossed arms, for once disagreeing with the plans of his master.

“We can never know what their intentions are unless we let them start their bank, no?” Zhongli said as he gazed at the marsh spread beneath him.

The Yaksha only scoffed but said no more.

Building up your courage, you deemed it was your turn to voice out your thoughts, “Um… Rex Lapis, I see your point, but wouldn’t it be best to resolve the problem before it persists into something larger? We all know- All of Teyvat knows, that the Fatui are not to be trusted.”

Your archon offered you a kind smile, “I understand your worries, Name. However, as of the moment, they have not presented themselves as such. If they truly are our enemies, then it would be beneficial for us to know their intentions.”

You frowned deeply at his statement. Seeing you do so, somehow, your archon immediately identified your main concern.

“Is this about the Tianquan assigning you to be her representative for the Fatui?”

The moment those words left his mouth, a growl tore from Xiao’s throat, but he held his tongue.

“Did Ganyu tell you?”

The Archon nodded and you sighed.

“I volunteered, actually.”

And at that point, Xiao vanished into thin hair, but you could still his sense his presence around.

“May I know why?” Zhongli questioned gently.

For a moment, you struggled for words. You didn’t know how to describe this ‘itch’ to him. “At first, it was supposed to be Ganyu, since in the Tianquan’s eyes- Ganyu is an adeptus and she does not know that I am, too. Perhaps she didn’t want to put me in harm’s way, a ‘visionless human’ at the side of a harbinger. After some convincing to Ningguang for my volunteering, I spoke to Ganyu next.

“The adepti are divine beings that walk here in Liyue. I had this feeling that putting a divine next to a power-hungry harbinger would become an issue. I told Ganyu that, since I looked ‘harmless’ and ‘ordinary,’ the harbinger’s interest about the divine would never surface.”

A stretch of silence wrapped around them as Zhongli pondered over your words. “Perhaps, are you also planning to dig out the truth of their arrival?”

You nodded, “I knew you would allow them to stay, so I just took it upon myself to unfurl their secrets.”

“Hmmm… I grant you permission on doing this. However, should trouble arise, do not hesitate to tell us.”

~

The glare pointed at you was strong. Even without him saying a single word, you could hear his phantom voice in your head speak with such coldness, What are you thinking?

You simply gave him a reassuring smile, “I’ll be fine, Xiao. I may be a human in mortal eyes, but please do remember that I am also an adeptus, no matter how weak I am.”

Xiao releases a huff, but still sits by your side at the floor of the balcony, letting the moon kiss his skin. “You’re not weak.” He mumbled as he snaked his hand to yours.

To him, you will never be weak. In fact, you were the strongest being he has ever laid his eyes on. Not physically, no. It was you mental and emotional fortitude. Back during the Archon War, he always admired how you kept your head held up high no matter the suffering you have experienced. No matter how much death surrounded you, you still fought. And that strength made you a survivor. During the war, you never failed to help the wounded. Even when someone dies under your care, you held strong for the departed and for those who are left behind. You were a pillar of hope.

He brings your hand to his lips and kisses every knuckle “… Just be careful. If ever you are in trouble do not-“

“Hesitate to call your name.” You finished, beaming at his words.

~

As someone who used to be a healer and a doctor, you were quite familiar with several mild skin diseases that mortals can suffer from.

If there is an itch, you do not scratch it- for you will only aggravate the area even more.

Now that you’re working alongside the Fatui as the Tianquan’s representative, the itch you kept feeling was only irritated more. Especially whenever you spoke with the Harbinger who goes by the name Childe. And since your work requires you to cooperate with him, you also don’t miss the chance to discover what he hides, should the opportunity presents itself.

Childe… his azure eyes certainly have their… charm to those unaware. However, you knew better. You know he’s capable of drowning you just by his eyes. While he may be a cheerful man, his eyes lack the lustre of joy. The eyes are the windows of the soul, yes? If so, all you see is an unending ocean that you do not want to swim in. The surface may be calm, but the deep is relentless. However, duty bound you are- deep within the ocean, you shall find the secrets the Fatui hides.

Again, another scratch to the itch, but it only irritates you more.

~ 

The news of Rex Lapis’s death became the catalyst of you confronting the Harbinger. From Yujeng Terrace all the way to Northland Bank, you ran (with Ningguang’s permission of course). Before you can even open the door to his office, something caught your eye.

It’s faint, but you’re an adeptus. You sensed elemental traces, just smack bang at the middle of the door. You carefully scrutinized the tracings, and fortunately you knew Snezhnayan script. And what you read only made your heart sink.

It’s ready.

With the adeptal arts, you managed to uncover the origins of these elemental tracings.

Scratch.

Without hesitation, you followed these tracings until it led you into some ruins.

Scratch.

Following the tracings further, you find yourself in a dimly lit room. Wary, you summoned your weapon imbued with your element.

Scratch.

Searching the room, you came across several antique boxes. You opened them.

Scratch.

What you saw were familiar. Too familiar. Dimming the room more with your element, you find more Sigils of Permission hanging on the walls and on the ceilings. The energy within them were faint, but with enough numbers, it’s enough to kill a-

“Well, well well, I thought you’d be there mourning for your Archon. But here you are, snooping around someone else’s research material.”

The sound of his voice made you sharply turn your head to him, your stance now more offensive. “What are you planning?” You bit coldly.

The Harbinger hummed a small tune, “Nothing much… But! If you’re really curious, I guess I could tell you.” He hummed some more but you knew he’s not finished. Once he finished his tune, he grinned to you menacingly and the depths in his eyes became even deeper and darker, “After all, I won’t let you leave this place with you knowing my secret~”

~

There was this one time, Xiao struggled against himself so much, he scratched himself red so that he could anchor himself back to the real world. You remembered how much you cried as he slept in your arms. You never wanted to see him do that again. Seeing him hurt himself also hurt you, too. It was like a stab in the heart, then a twist, and twist some more. A slap in the reality that you might lose him one day.

As he slept, you solemnly observed the wounds he sustained himself to. They were angry red, just like blood.

Now, you, yourself scratched that itch in your head too much into a wound for blood to seep through. You scratched too much and now you have to bleed from it.

~

You were slipping in and out of consciousness. Sleep was tempting you more and more but you know you have to wake up. You were aware that this is going on for days.

Everything hurts. You remembered how his blades, imbued with the Sigils, weakened you thoroughly. Every slash he brought to your body just drained the energy away from you. But still you had to do something.

He wanted an adeptus- he wanted an adeptus in order for the Sigils to grow stronger both in number and in power.

Now here you are, bound by chains and suspended at the middle of this empty room. These chains were adorned by talismans that drained away your energy. You were bleeding from your wounds of your previous battle.

Drip. Drip. Drip goes the blood and pools on the ground underneath you. The ground, you barely noticed, was lined by Liyuean script which enacts the ritual of the Sigils draining your divine power from your blood.

To the eyes of a sadist- you were a picture perfect in a canvas. A dark room lined by the damned Sigils, glowing an eerie gold. Then there's you with your bloodied clothes and chains. The red pool underneath was casting a red glow on your way, giving you a red shade to your pale skin.

Everything hurts-

And everything was driving you mad.

You can also feel the Overlord of the Vortex feed from your energy through the Sigils. You sensed his lust for power and revenge. You felt his anger and the corruption within him. You felt his hatred and his want to bring death. For days that felt like years, you’ve been battling against that very same god in your head. This battle was not something you shall not lose to and failure is not an option. If you fail here, then Liyue will fall. 

This god- he was driving you mad slowly.

If ever you are in trouble, do not hesitate to call my-

You shut the thought from your head. You are not going to call him. You will not speak of him. You will not think of him. You will not call him. Not to this place where his corruption will grow. No. You Will Not Call Him.

If it means that me not calling you will keep you safe from the corrupted remnant of a god- so be it. 

Please

However, no matter how much you denied yourself to call his name, no matter how much your heart yearns to be with him- the wind does not ignore the pained sob that left your lips.

~

Ever since the news of Rex Lapis's death and the visit of the Traveler with a Sigil in his hand- the corruption within him just bloomed into something feral.

The Sigil- there was something wrong about it but Xiao doesn't know what is it that is wrong. Then there's you- where are you? Surely with the news of their Archon's death- it would send you to bring forth a meeting for the adepti to talk this over. But now- for days- you remain not by his side.

With you missing- the demons inside him are slowly taking control over him, taking advantage of his vulnerability for you. For each passing day, it was slow torture for him- The worry bubbling in him was consuming him. He glared at the Sigil between his fingers and not failing to notice how his dark aura covers him once more. 

“Traveler,” Xiao called sharply, “What is it you intend to do next?” 

To any mere mortal, the look his eyes held were enough to strike fear, but the Traveler stealed themselves- meeting the adeptus’s gaze with an equally serious calm. “I have my suspicions on a certain harbinger and I-”

“Where?” The Yaksha growled.

“In the Golden House.”

Without a word nor warning, Xiao placed a hand on the Traveler’s shoulder and teleported them to the place where the Exuvia is hidden.

To the Traveler, everything happened so quickly as one event led to another. One moment, they were standing among unconscious bodies of the Millelith then the next thing they knew a corrupted and demonic gust of wind flew them away to the side. Regaining back their vision, they could see Alatus’s spear now at Tartaglia’s barrier made of Sigils. 

Alatus narrowed his eyes at the floating talismans and began to calculate the flow of this incoming battle with precision and accuracy despite his losing control over himself. 

It was a tense minute of sizing each other up, but eventually, Tartaglia has broken the silence with his annoying innocent voice. 

“Who would have thought that I’d have the honor of fighting another adeptus of Liyue?” 

The question immediately fed the corruption within him, the dark aura exploding at it. He knew that he should not believe in the Harbinger’s words so easily, but the glint in the latter’s eyes held truth. You could be out there, hurting, scared, alone. You could be out there, bleeding out. You could be out there dyi-

His aura exploded once more at the thoughts spreading in his being. With a burst of unspeakable power, Alatus lifted his weapon and pierced the barrier once more, this time breaking it without failure. At the threat, Tartaglia backed away as he donned his mask.

In a similar fashion, Alatus, too donned his mask. “I will ask you once,” the Conqueror of Demons spoke with a deathly calm, “Where is she?”

~

He should have killed him then and there. But the call of the Overlord of the Vortex must not be ignored as it threatens Liyue. 

In the small opportunity of escape, Childe took it. But he was weak and injured as Alatus swiftly threw his spear to block his way and teleported right in front of him. In a show of power, the Conqueror of Demons lifted the mortal by the neck.

“I will ask you again, where is she?”

In fear, Childe told him everything and at his every word, Xiao listened carefully- never speaking once. But the anger within his heart, it boils- it rages. His amber eyes bored into Childe’s soul- thinking what he should do to this mortal. Oh how killing him would be so nice. However, when the Yaksha’s gaze landed on the regal form of the Exuvia, he merely threw the mortal in its way.

“Killing you would have been easier. However, the crimes you have presented against Liyue are not mine for me to judge.

I leave the Harbinger to you... Rex Lapis.”

Once out of the Golden House, the Overlord roared once more, shaking the lands of the nation. However, along with it, he heard the faintest of voices. I’m so sorry... I couldn’t hold him back anymore. 

Only then did the demons in his heart freely took control of him. Just like the stories of old, where the Yaksha walks, death follows. But they were no stories. In his way towards the ruins where you were held captive, every step he took brought carnage and even more death and blood to taint his hands. No Fatui will leave this place alive. The very being of destruction ended many lives. Each death, the demons were growing stronger.

All he wanted now was to kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill killkillkill killkill kill killkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkill

Then seeing you suspended in the ceiling and bound by chains. Blood was painted on your lifeless skin. Wounds were littered and bruises were blooming on your form. But most of all, your eyes. What were once full of life and hope- now empty and blank. His demons quieted down.

Broken. You were like a broken porcelain doll.

“N-name...” His voice cracked, not believing it all.

With haste, he quickly broke your binds and caught you in his arms. he was fast to check for your pulse and your breathing. And thank the Archons, you were breathing but barely. You were now walking the line between life and death. With all his might yet a gentle caress, he hugged you for dear life. “Name... It’s me...”

But still, your eyes still held no recognition and it shattered his heart to pieces. With further inspection, he sensed the presence within you. A corruption. A certain evil. 

“Name, stay with me please,” Xiao begged with desperation as he fought back tears. “It’s me who supposed to be the corrupted one between us, not you... I’m not allowing you to leave me, you hear me-”

With a ritual of the adeptal arts, he started purging and purifying the evil left by the god who fed from you. He is not letting you stay alone in your prison, not for a second longer. 

Xiao prays and he never prayed before. Even to his master. But just this once, He prays with desperation. You are the light in his darkness. You are the moon in his night. 

The ritual was a delicate process. For every word he spoke, he was rewarded by your screams of pain and the writhing of your fragile body. He wanted to stop, but he can’t. He had to physically restrain you from trying to escape from his embrace and from hurting yourself. And for every cry you released, Xiao merely shuts his eyes clos just for him not to see your pained eyes. Every now and then, Xiao speaks gentle apologies and words of encouragement for you. You were coming back. But still, the evil persists.

You writhed and scratched against him, until you were creating more wounds for blood to seep through. When it came to a point, you began pleading and begging for him to stop, that was when Xiao had shed a tear. So he continues the ritual, his prayers, and his apologies. They were arriving to a point where the ritual is reaching its conclusion but your screams only grew louder.

Please, just a little more...

Please, just stop...

Please...

The corruption disintegrated away from you in a forceful release of dark energy. He was breathing deeply, attempting to calm his loud heart. When he placed his gaze on you, you were breathing rapidly and your eyes were searching blindly and your hands were desperately holding onto him.

“X-Xiao...” You whispered, “Where am I? Where are you?”

With a sigh of relief, the Yaksha hugged you again closer and his forehead to yours, fearing you would go away again. The action made you lift your hands to his face, still searching blindly.

“I’m here, Name... I’m here.” At his voice, the dam in your eyes broke as you cried silently. Xiao was not adept in emotions, but for you, he will face them gladly. He lets you cry as he gives you soft whispers of assurance, safety, love, and promises. However, you were not crying because of what had happened to you. You were crying for him. After experiencing such corruption-

You sobbed some more- you were this close to him losing you and you could not bring yourself to imagine if your roles were reversed.

“P-please,” you said with a broken voice, “please don’t go to the place where I can’t follow...’

The words, at first puzzled him, but after a few moments, he realized and once more it broke his heart. Bringing you closer, Xiao let loose the tears he was holding back. With a gentleness unexpected of the Conqueror, he simply littered your face with kisses. “I promise if only you would do the same.”

With your smile that he loved dearly for so long you too spoke your promise, “I do.” They were simply two words, but the comfort they bring into the Yaksha’s heart was in volumes.

After that, you shared a few tender moments in each other’s arms. Simply relishing the feeling of their familiar warmth. A little later, Xiao spoke, “Would you like to eat some Almond Tofu once we get home?”

The question made you giggle at his innocence, so you agreed. Despite you needing physical medical attention. But Almond Tofu with him? Yes, you two definitely need some emotional healing.

A/N: fINALLY dONE lmao this was supposed to be short but angst really makes me want to write longer everytime haha~ anyway this request really made me ponder bout genshin stuff with all the corruption this and corruption that but then a question popped up like-

how did childe replicate the sigil of permission? since sigils are imbued with divine energy, i just thought how did this guy accumulate so much sigils to the point of freeing Osial- a god!!! soooo i just played with the idea for a bit then figured out maybe these pieces of paper get the divine energy from a divine source right? and the adepti are divine beings of liyue and another thing- you guys might have noticed the change of names in some scenes- i dont know but i think somehow different names represents different side of a person like- we have childe the cheerful harbinger then tartaglia the power hungry harbinger- there’s Alatus who’s calculating and cold, there’s the Conqueror of Demons who’s ruthless and unforgiving, then Xiao who is calm and humane- lastlyyyyy i might post this in ao3 ksks

[tarteausuga]

The Bubble Tea Chronicles - Renjun

CW: a bit of angst, mostly just sibling things ft. Younger brother! Renjun

WC: 1287 (why am I writing more and more with each one of these lol)

Summary: in which Renjun is a bit too overbearing as a little brother and you hurt his feelings.

A little brother was what you've always wanted. Teaching him everything you knew, playing and running around with him but most importantly, protecting him. But you never anticipated the roles reversing with him protecting you. Renjun always seemed to stand up and speak up for you. He'd managed to overtake you in height by the time he turned 16 and despite his soft appearance, he never hesitated to fight.

He was especially particular about your choice in boyfriends. You had a tendency to fall for guys who went on to break your heart. At this point, you weren't sure if it was a you problem or a them problem but usually, it was easier to just blame yourself to reach some type of closure.

A knock came on your door, trailed by the quiet voice of your brother, "mom said to call you for dinner."

"I'm not hungry!" You yelled, trying not to break down into tears.

"What's wrong? You're never not hungry." He said and he was right. You had a healthy appetite, especially when you were upset so it was very rare for you to not want to eat anything at all.

"I'm fine." You lied.

"You're not, I'm coming in!" Renjun said and entered before you could protest further.

"I didn't say you could come in!" You shouted but he ignored you.

"I told you that guy was no good!" He yelled at you.

"That's what you say about all of them." You retreated into the ball you had formed yourself into.

"And have I ever been wrong?" He gawked at you but you didn't have a come back for him. There was just something so odd about your younger brother being your protector. He was always right and you hated that.

"Can you just leave me alone? Tell mom I'm busy with an assignment. I'll eat later." He tried to protest before you glared up at him through tearful eyes. "Please Renjun."

It seemed like he was born this way. From the moment he opened his eyes as a baby, he was ready to protect you. When your parents scolded you, he would scream until they stopped. When you were both in school, he would stand up to the bullies who picked on you. He had a fire in him that honestly made you quite jealous. Not only in defending you but in defending his friends, doing well in school, dance, and everything else in between.

How could you let your baby brother be so much better than you? You often asked yourself. He was always praised by your parents before turning around to scold you for not being as good as Renjun. It was infuriating. So when he tries to insert himself into areas of your personal life, your blood boiled.

"Are you okay?" Your best friend asked when you answered their call.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" You lied. You didn't want them to know that they were right about your ex as well.

"Your brother texted me and he said you've locked yourself in your room for almost 2 days."

"He what?" You yelled.

"Yeah he told me what happened and said he was worried. He asked if I could try cheering you up." They continued.

"That little piece of… let me call you back." You hung up before throwing your phone on your bed and storming out of your room. Thankfully, your parents weren't home so they wouldn't stop you from potentially killing their precious son. "HUANG RENJUN." You yelled.

"Oh hey, you're out of your room!" He smiled but his expression changed instantly when he saw the rage in your eyes.

"You don't know when to mind your own business, do you? Stay out of my life!" You screamed at your brother. It was the first time you've truly blown up at him and it shocked both of you.

"I'm your brother, I care about you." He said quietly.

"Sometimes I wish I never asked for a brother." You said. "If I had known that you would be so overbearing and suffocating, I wouldn't have asked." The regret instantly washed over you as you looked up and saw the pain that caused him.

"Alright then." He said simply and retreated to his room.

"Renjun! I-" you followed him but he slammed the door in your face and you heard the click of the door lock.

You've only made him upset a handful of times in your life. All of them were when he was a toddler and for a few years, you were the overbearing sibling. Maybe he always knew his duty was to look out for you from day one and that's why he cried when you fussed too much over him. You asked for him so maybe he was meant to be your guardian for life.

The guilt of hurting him overrode the pain you were feeling from your recent breakup. Strangely, nothing hurt more than the pain of knowing you hurt the person who would always care about you the most. You didn't want to admit he was right multiple times in the past but�� He was. All of those people you dated in the past were low hanging fruit and you deserved better. You knew deserved better but you also just wanted to feel wanted.

There was only one thing that would get him to consider forgiving you. Just barely but if you knew anything about your little brother, this would be the thing to get him to drop a grudge.

After getting what you needed, you came home and made a beeline to Renjun's room, completely ignoring your parents' greetings as nothing was more important than this. To be honest with yourself, getting out of the house was a relief. It helped you get out of your own mind and cycle of being angry then missing your ex before restraining yourself from messaging them.

You placed a gentle knock on his door and you waited. He would either ignore you and let you wait there all night or there would be the very slight chance that he opens the door, takes your peace offering and retreats into his room. Hoping for the latter, you hear his steps approach his door and the lock clicks, signaling to you that he wasn't angry anymore.

"Baby brother…" you coo as you open the door and stick your head in. His headphones are over his ears and he's busy clicking away at his hand but you know for a fact that there's no music playing. Your brother is anything if not petty so he would love to hear you admit how wrong you were. And that's exactly what you did. "Look, what I said was way out of line and unnecessary. I'm sorry I said that to you… You're right and I'm glad to have you around to stand up for me." You place the cup of bubble tea next to his mousepad and he silently opened the straw and stabbed the drink, taking a sip before continuing his game.

Accepting that as a sign of forgiveness, you turned to leave before he finally broke his silent treatment. “So you admit I’m right?”

“Yes Renjun, you’re right.” You rolled your eyes.

“And I’m your favourite brother.”

“You’re my only brother but yes, by default that makes you my favourite.”

“I’ll try not to butt into your life too much anymore.” He said seriously.

“It’s not that I don’t want you to but it’s kind of embarrassing to have my younger brother standing up for me all of the time.” You explain, “But I am grateful that you do.”

“I know.” He smiles before returning to his game.

[noire-pandora]

Continuing with the prompts from this list. Also on ao3.

Edit: I decided to also submit this to genuary 2021 event.

Picnic.

Words: 1804

Warnings: Elluin will go hunting in this piece. While there aren’t graphic descriptions, keep in mind to avoid reading if the idea bothers you. Thanks! 

The sun shone above the Hinterlands, no cloud on the bright blue sky. The birds trilled their song, and Elluin found herself smiling at their joy. 

She travelled at a slow, steady pace, her horse strolling proudly, as she and three companions made their way back to Haven. Master Dennet offered to the Inquisition the best horses, and now they could travel faster and safer. She enjoyed riding, feeling the muscles of the horse move under her, and appreciated the bond between a rider and a horse. 

Slowly, Elluin got lost in her thoughts, mesmerized by the beauty of the nature, rocked by the calm movement of the horse. She found herself at peace, after weeks of worry and running around. 

“Can we stop already? I’m hungry!”

Sera’s voice woke Elluin from her reverie, and she sighed. She almost forgot about them. 

“We cannot,” Cassandra quickly retorted. “We need to get back to Haven as fast as possible and tell the others we will get the horses, we don’t have time to waste.”

“But we already sent a raven to Leliana, she already knows! We’ve been riding for four hours, my butt hurts and I’m hungry!”

Cassandra scoffed and opened her mouth to reply, but Varric chimed in. “She is right, Seeker. I doubt we can ride faster than a raven can fly. We’re hurrying for no reason. And my butt is starting to get sore too.”

“No!”

“But--!”

“ We should ask the Herald” Solas calmly intervened, pointing towards Elluin as she rode a few meters ahead of them. “You do listen to her judgment, Seeker.”

Cassandra glared at Solas for a second but she cued her horse to move closer to Elluin’s.

“You do believe I am right, no?”

Elluin smiled and tugged on the reins to stop the horse. She jumped on the ground and looked around, scratching her head.

“I think Sera and Varric are right. It’s midday and we have five hours until we reach Haven. If we take a break now, we will reach it in time for dinner.”

“But, Herald, the task--“

“We finished our task, Cassandra. We got the horses and the stable master. The raven already reached Leliana. All we have to do is to get back and I see no rush with that. Plus, the horses need a break. Master Dennet will kill us if we overwork them."

Cassandra pinched the bridge of her nose and nodded, defeated. “As you wish.”

“Finally,” Sera exclaimed. “I need to pee so bad.”

Elluin giggled and shook her head. She turned towards her horse to tend it. The horse’s mane felt soft to the touch, and she ran her fingers through it.

“What are we going to eat, Sparks?” Varric asked as he looked around the meadow, the sun forcing him to squint his eyes.

“I’ve seen a few rabbits in those bushes up ahead. I think there are a few rabbit nests there. I’m quick enough to try to catch a few of them.”

“Rabbit stew sounds good to me”, Varric smiled, patting his belly as it grumbled.

“Then you could set up a small camp while we are away. Is that ok with you?”

“Sure, Sparks, on it.”

Elluin looked around for Solas. He tended to his horse, removing its saddle, and spoke with it in Elvhen.

“Since you’re already doing it, Solas, could you take care of the other horses, please? Make sure they are fed?”

“Of course, Herald,” he confirmed and bowed his head.

“Ah, wait! When Sera comes back, can you tell her to gather some wood?”

He nodded again, too concentrated with feeding the horse.

“You and me, Cassandra, we’re going hunting!"

Cassandra just nodded, and Elluin noticed the irritation written on her face. In this short time span she spent with the Seeker, she learned  the warrior didn’t like to be contradicted.

They walked in silence, Cassandra’s scabbard clinking against her hip as she stepped. Elluin hummed, loving the stroll in the grass, eyes focused at the rabbit's nest ahead, waiting for any signs of rabbits running around. They hid in the bushes next to the nest and waited.

“Are you all right there, Cass?” she asked in a low voice, careful not to alert the will-be lunch.

“Yes.”

“You know, you’re a tough person, Cassandra and I admire that.You learned how to control yourself and pushed your body to withstand any pain. You are a mighty warrior, you have fought dragons and saved the Divine. You have travelled all around Thedas and I’m sure your butt won’t get sore anymore, travelling for hours and hours on a horse."

She squinted as a rabbit left the burrow, sniffing the air, looking around for any predators. Elluin’s body tensed, ready to jump at the first opportunity. The rabbit suddenly retreated to the safety of its den.

“The thing is,” Elluin continued, her body relaxing once again but her eyes never leaving the burrow. “Varric and Sera aren’t warriors. They can’t do the things you do. They can’t ride for hours and hours without stopping and eating.”

“You’re not a warrior and I didn’t hear you complain,” Cassandra whispered back, annoyance in her voice.

“That’s because I’ve been travelling since I was nineteen years old. The dirty road has been my home for so many years, I got used with being uncomfortable. But Varric and Sera are the usual people, used with taking it easy. They aren’t ready to push themselves right now. In a few months, they won’t have any problems with sore butts. We need to be patient with them. Being on the road so often isn’t easy for someone who rarely left their cities. You know Varric loves Kirkwall, he told us how much he hated leaving it.”

Cassandra sighed but said nothing. They stayed in silence, hidden in the bushes, still looking ahead for any movement. After ten more minutes, Elluin tsked and shook her head. “Right, time to do this the hard way!”

She rolled up her sleeves above her elbows and left the bush. She strolled towards the rabbit's nest and crammed her arm inside, her chin touching the ground. After a few grunts and grimaces of pain, she withdrew her arm, a small rabbit struggling to escape her grip.

“Aha! Here, hold this one, Cassandra! Hold it by its ears so it won’t bite you! Gotta find another one.”

Cassandra watched with wide eyes as Elluin went in for another one. A few minutes more and her hand emerged once again, another rabbit yelling and struggling to run away.

“Right, I think this will do. Let’s get back to camp and ready our meal,” Elluin said, her hands and clothes soiled with mud and leaves.

“How did you do that? I have never seen anyone do it!” Cassandra asked, amazement colouring her voice.

They strolled back to the camp, Elluin proudly smirking. “Every Dalish knows how to do this. We’re taught how to hunt since childhood, in case we end up lost from the Clan. The priority of the Hahren is to make sure any child can fend from themselves as they grow up. I’m not that good at it, but at least I won’t die of hunger.”

“I see. Impressive.”

They walked in silence again, Elluin not daring to bother Cassandra, visibly deep in thought. When Cassandra frowned, it was safer to let her be.

“Thank you, Herald. Sometimes I forget how hard it was for me at the beginning.”

“No harm done,” Elluin replied, relief washing over her. Cassandra wasn’t mad anymore. She could breathe in peace.

Cassandra and Elluin took care of the lunch, the stew steaming and spreading a delicious smell. Even Solas, who rarely cared about food, seemed eager to taste it.

They sat on the ground, around the fire, eating and slurping the food, none of them talking.

“Hey, Chuckles, do you wanna hear a joke?” Varric asked, breaking the silence.

“Do I have a choice, Master Tethras?”

“Nope, not really. How about this one: how do you get a squirrel to like you?”

“I do not have the faintest idea,” Solas said, sarcasm in his voice.

“Act like a nut.”

Silence. Only a small snort escaped Elluin’s lips.

“Oh, c’mon, that was funny!” Varric said, throwing his hands in the air. “Fine, here’s another one: What do you call a row of rabbits hopping away? A receding hare line!”

“Ugh, Varric, this is even worse than the first one. You have bad jokes,” Cassandra chimed in, rolling her eyes. “No one likes your jokes.”

“I liked this one. It was funny because we’re eating rabbits. Get it? Rabbits,” Sera replied, laughing with her mouth full, a few droplets flying in the air.

“Please don’t encourage him, Sera!”

Elluin watched their exchange, a small smile tugging at her lips. It has been a while since she could just sit and enjoy the company of others. She slowly learned to appreciate her companions even if at first she didn’t trust them. They were loud, had bad jokes, but they were there to help her. She wasn’t alone anymore.

“Jolly crowd, eh?,” Sera asked, conspicuously leaning towards her. “It’s almost like a picnic. We’re missing the fancy blanket and the expensive glasses, but this is nice.”

“Yes, it is. Never had a better picnic than this one.”

“You did well back then, you know. When you told Cassandra what you told,” Sera continued, as she bit from the meat, the juice dripping down on her chin and spoke again, mouth full with meat. “She forgot not everyone is like her.”

“Where you spying on us??”

“Nah," she stopped for a second to swallow "I was close and I have good hearing. I thought you aren’t made to be a leader, but now I’m doubting that.”

“I’m not cut to be a leader, Sera, I have no idea what I’m doing!”

“Your no idea is working well. Look at them, how happy they look. Even that sour face Solas is smiling. You did well.”

Sera slapped Elluin on her back, but she retreated fast, her voice going up a notch. “Why are you looking at me like that, eh? Please don’t tell me you’re going to start crying!”

Elluin laughed, wiping the corner of her eye. “That means a lot to me, Sera. Especially coming from you. You’re leading a secret organisation. It’s almost like my mother praised me.”

“I’m not your mother, you’re older than me, you weirdo!” she yelled as she smacked her shoulder. “ Don’t you try to hug me or I’ll cut your fingers!”

“ But I want a hug now!”

Sera yelled and got up, running around them to dodge Elluin as she chased her for a hug. The others laughed and shook their heads, not bothering to yell at them to stop. And all this time, Elluin’s smile grew bigger and bigger.

[thescannerdarkly]

you can tell who’s homeless by looking at their feet: my past 48 hours after a bottle of whiskey

it's three am and i'm tired but i can't sleep because of the shaking, so i'm going to stand in the bathroom and smoke a cigarette out the window. listening to the superbestfriendcast, texting a friend, experiencing that rare moment of feeling like your life is under control, like you can make a change. feeling pretty okay. then she knocks and she comes in. and she's yelling about you smoking. and she's yelling about you being up all night long, yelling about you not sleeping like a normal person. she's yelling at me and i've dropped the smoke and i've dropped the phone and i'm yelling back. and suddenly fuck it, i don't need any of this shit. i mean, here i am, trying to get my shit together, trying to get myself back into a happy person, back into a person i can be good in, and she's fucking yelling at me for having a goddamn cigarette. i don't fucking need her, i don't fucking need any of this. grab my immediate shit and get the fuck out, streetwalker mode, only thing i'm taking is my cigarettes and my music player, a little personal time with me, john darnielle, and the asphalt. get out twenty feet from the door, stop, and turn back around. walk back in, because i know that i'm better than that. because i know that i can face up to my own mistakes, because i know that i can make these things work. i don't need to run from this shit, because i've handled this shit before, and i can handle it again, and i can make this work, because i really do want my life to get back to normal, to get back to being less shit. we sit outside and talk. we sit outside and i tell her, these days it feels like i can't change anything. these days it feels like i can't get anything done. shit job, shit friends, shit personal life. tell her it feels like i can't even change things with her. but also tell her, i live for the little things. tell her i look forward to my friends, to my hobbies, to my job, tell her i look forward to changing this stuff in the future. tell her that i can make a change, that i just need to find something to fill my time with, that i just need something i can put all my life into. and she's nodding, she's talking back, she's smiling, she brings the dog outside so i can pet it, everything's going to be alright. and then the cruisers show up, the officers with their flashlights. i look at her and i say, what the fuck is this? are you fucking serious? and she just looks down at her feet. ask the officer, can i at least have a cigarette while i wait? yeah, he says, just move your hands slowly. tells me about how he went up north when he turned eighteen, about how he got a job whitewater rafting, got out and found a bit of himself in the wild. i tell him how i'm trying to find a bit of myself in my music, how i'm trying to find a bit of myself in art, how i'm trying to find a bit of myself outside a bottle so i can exist without the monkey on my back. he nods and he talks and he lets me smoke, so right now he's my best friend. the pat-down, and they take away my smokes. they put me in the back of the car, tell me i'm being baker acted, due to some alarming things i said. i say, i'm sick of this shit, just take me away so i can get this over with. cruising down the street, five'o'clock in the morning, early risers commuting to work, me looking at all this shit through the bars in the back. shaking, shivering, tired, half-dead, wishing for a smoke but they told me they don't allow smokes in the ward. out past the airport, they have the strip churches, all those evangelicals selling a shot into heaven; and past that, they have the beauty salons and the strip clubs, promising a little bit of heaven on earth; and past that, they've got the MHC, they've got central processing, they've got bond sellers, they've got a little bit of hell. in through the back in the new sunlight and they're telling me that it's all going to be all right; fuck, i know it's going to be alright, i just want to go home, but of course i can't say that to the nurses, they're just doing their job. three hours. the freshly raped bipolarette sobbing in the chair next to me, screaming, you're ruining my life, i have to see my children. the nurses laughing about it in the room over, mocking her. the guy in the long jeans with the blanket over his head, junkie brewster DT'ing, shaking on the cot in the corner. three hours before they get my fucking information down, tell me i'm going to talk to somebody to get me out of here, and don't you want something to eat. no, i say, it's too much effort just to throw it up, but i just tell them i'm not hungry, i'm not in the mood, i just ate. shaking in the lobby, last seat in a row of crazies, wrapped up in blankets watching the thirtieth re-run of Full House on the TV. talk to the insurance lady, talk to the nurse, talk to the counselor, sit outside and wait. get up and check the board, walk back, sit down, get up and check the board, walk back, sit down. a change. underneath dispo, next to daniel p, it says, AES. fuck, that's new, what the hell does it mean? flag down a passing nurse, ask him, hey man, what does AES mean? he has no idea, of course not. flag down the motherfucker who made the decision, hey man, what does AES mean? he turns to me and says, you're admitted, and walks away. shaking. sobbing. crying. snot dripping from my nose, head between my knees, arms wrapped around myself, screaming to myself, no, no no. saying, i need to go, i want to go, i can't go. i can't leave. somebody lied about me, so i need to stay here, and i can't shit without permission, i can't sleep without permission, i need somebody to come in and wipe my fucking ass, i can't leave. i can't go. and i'm sobbing and i'm fucking wondering, why? why? why? i haven't seen a doctor, i want to see a doctor. tell one of the nurses, i want to see the doctor. she says, if you want to see a doctor, you have to sign this. i say, what does this do? she says, it allows us to release your medical information to her. well, alright then, if it lets me see a doctor, if it lets me explain that i don't want to fucking kill myself, if it lets me get out of this place. i sign it, i go outside, i sit, i wait. three hours go by. no doctor. and the shakes are getting worse and i'm barely hanging on and my head hurts and there's nothing to eat. smoke break. no smokes. we go outside, nobody has any smokes, not junkie brewster, not David who keeps calling me Ty and asking if I got his daughter anything nice, not the bipolarette, not the chubby hispanic teen who tried to kill her boyfriend, nobody has any smokes. we sit in the fenced-off corner of a tiny yard and we wait. and then we go back inside. go to the board. now it says West, instead of F2F. i ask a nurse, what does West mean? she says it means the west ward. i ask, why didn't i see a doctor? i was told i'd see a doctor? she says, the doctor looked at your baker act, and decided to admit you. i say, she didn't even see me? she couldn't take five minutes out of her fucking day of getting paid too much fucking money to sit on her fat ass and drink coffee and sentence motherfuckers to life imprisonment to check with me and see that i wasn't actually crazy? i'm not fucking good enough for her five minutes? i'm not a human being, worthy of respect? i'm not somebody with my own complex emotions and desires and ups and downs? i'm just a fucking piece of trash, apparently, i'm just a fucking number, i'm just a fucking slave in the goddamn system, so that i don't deserve to be talked to, i don't deserve to be seen, i'm just some motherfucker who deserves to be locked up and told what to do, because i'm not a human being after all. i'm a fucking number. sobbing. shaking. arguing. sobbing. they take me down a hall. they lock me in a room. they tell me, strip down. they tell me, wait here. i ask when my doctor will be in. nobody knows. i ask when i can leave. nobody knows. i ask why i'm here. nobody knows. i ask if i can leave. no. it's smoke break on the west ward. sit outside. people have smokes, but they're hiding it. if people know you have a pack, they're gonna swarm you asking for a spare cigarette. so they hide it. people go around making deals. hey buddy, can i get your short? can i butt with you? hey man, can i share that? we're all desperate for the little highs we can get. i try, but i can't. talk to Keith. Keith's feet are dirty and cracked; Keith's homeless. Keith says, that pastor down at New Beginnings, he's crooked. He says, my mom works for Urban Development, she knows he's under federal investigation for taking food stamps from parolees. He says, a homeboy of his, Pastor Ted made advances on. He says, known him a long time, and he's all in it for the money. Richard says, his family has known Pastor for years and years. says he knows the pastor's first wife, his current wife. Says he's heard the rumors about Ted being homosexual. Says that all the programs ask for your EBT stamps, he says that it's not against the law, says that it's voluntary. Keith asks, can you be in the program and keep your Metro card? Answer me that, can you keep your stamps and still be in the program? Keith talks to me, he says, what kind of pastor carries a 9 in the church? when you're a man of God and you've got a 9 in the church, when you're smoking cigarettes in the church, you're not on the better side of things. i've gotta agree. we both share our fond curses for Judge Keats, the parole judge. we both share our grumblings. Dinner time. I've been here twelve hours. can't move my hands too well. can't feel my face. can't believe i'm here. don't know why i'm here. i don't want to hurt myself, i don't want to hurt anyone else. where the hell is my doctor? nobody knows. microwaved dinners in the box, two cartons of milk. hey man, you can have my butter. guy's got Hard Life tattooed on his knuckles. bitches about the food, me and Keith agree. Richard chimes in, says it's usually better. watch shitty movie on the TV. go back to the ward. smoke break. dad manages to send me a pack of smokes in here. nurses sneak it to me over the counter, make sure nobody else knows. stand outside, and Keith knows. he asks me, man, can i get a smoke? i say, you gotta find happiness where you can. I hand out smokes like the Candyman. I give one to Keith, one to Hard Life, one to Richard. Frederick walks up to me and asks for one, I give him one. Give one to Junkie Brewster. We stand in communion. I give one to the carnie, the man with the tattooes on his face. we talk. we talk about smuggling in microdots in the lining of your briefcase. we talk about Fantasy Ranch and the DJs who used to play there. we talk about the pure crystal they used to have on the streets, back in the mid-90's. we talk about the shit-grade molly they've got now, all the kids thinking they've got gold when they've got meth. we talk about Amsterdam, we talk about buying bags of heroin. Frederick talks to me about the gospel, talks to me about King Crimson, talks to me about the music scene in Detroit. he says to me, i slept with a Glock next to my head a couple of nights, i'm a little fucked in the head. he's fifty-seven, been to forty-seven states, been out in the desert, been down the streets. he talks to me about the ministry that calls to him, talks to me about the good we find in all people, about how we're only human. talks to me about the little hand-crank radio he has, about how he listens to old sci-fi on the AM channels, about his old days as a trucker, about the way he talks to the wind, the music he makes. smoke break over. go inside. ask if i can shit. snacks. Cereal bars and decaf instant coffee in lukewarm water. talk to keith, talk to carnie, talk to richard, talk to hard life. bitch about the food. Immortals on the TV, bad movie, doesn't matter. go back to the ward. line up. blood pressure time. sleep time. lie down on the mattress. sweat. cry. sweat. shake. wake up. blood pressure time. breakfast time. smoke break time. share away the last of my pack. talk about heroin addiction. talk about the carnie, twenty-four years of working there. talk about richard's dad dying of cancer, him coming in one day and the doctors telling him he's fine, coming in the next and having to take him off ventilators, having to watch him die. how his wife killed his dogs when he came down to florida to put down his dad, how the only reason she's still breathing is because of his daughter, because of his little girl. he talks about how he's not a perfect man, about how he's only human, about how he got himself a record because of all this shit in his life, and now he's getting straight. i believe in richard. shoot the shit. wait. read the Bible, book of Job. my clothing is rendered, my hair is sprinkled with ash. and none of these wise men can convince me to believe in god. wait. talk to the doctor. five minutes, she says five words. i spend five minutes explaining the situation, and she discharges me. you couldn't have spared the time last night? you couldn't have spared the time yesterday morning, sitting in your office five feet from me? you fucking shit. you fucking piece of shit. you don't decide where i go. you don't decide when i live. YOU CAN NOT MAKE ME A FUCKING SLAVE. I AM A GODDAMN HUMAN BEING, YOU STUPID, INCOHERENT, IDIOTIC FUCKING IDIOT. I DESERVE RESPECT, YOU MOTHERFUCKER. I AM NOT YOUR FUCKING SLAVE waiting. leaving. sobbing on my dad's shoulder. mcdonald's. never tasted so good. riding home in the work truck, windows down, my face out the window, my tongue in the wind. i can taste the exhaust pipe smog, and it tastes good. go by her place. get all my shit in the boxes. leave. come back in. tell her, i want nothing to do with you. don't text me, don't call me. don't think you can ever make up for this. don't think you can ever excuse this. don't think you'll ever hear from me. head back. Pacific Rim. Fireball whiskey. Memories with my dad. Telling me, he loves me no matter what. telling me, i don't need her to make my life. telling me he'll advise me, he'll tell me what he thinks is right, but he'll never tell me what to do. he'll never tell me when i can fucking smoke. nobody will ever take away my shoes again. happiness.

[zach-the-fox]

Frostfur Episode 4: Guardian

My eyes flutter open to the light against my face as it creeps in through the cervices of the boards in the window, yet the wind still howls outside and the snow falls lighter than it did last night. Pushing myself into a sitting position, I look around to see the girls are lying in their bedrolls, eyes shut and not a single movement of any limbs. They still sleep peacefully, dreaming perhaps, but I am the first one up. It’s best if I check our supplies and see how much food we’ve got left. Searching the rations, I count just enough for a day. There’s really not much left, so I must go out and scavenge or hunt. Knowing the girls will be alone when they wake, I’m slow to my feet and make it out the door, closing it behind to avoid waking them. I promise, I’ll be back soon.

I ready my rifle and wander around the frozen grove, scanning for potential sources of food. We won’t survive on just a day of rations. Our trip to Winterhome could take longer than a day, and starving is not an option. It’s going to be tough, since the winter has forced plants to hibernate, not knowing when they’ll wake, and the poor animals that are hungry, yet have nothing to eat while the cold persists. Nature’s life cycle has frozen to a standstill, literally. However, some are still clinging onto life as the lucky ones, finding food here and there much like the beast from Emmy’s cave. Emmy… I hope she’s doing all right. If I’m lucky, then her cold may subside enough for us to continue our travels. I just hope she and Carly didn’t wake to think I’ve gone to abandon them…

As I’m deep with worry, that’s when my ears twitch. The sounds of gruntled roars catch me off guard and cause me to turn to the source of the sound. Raising my rifle, I sneak over toward the snow-covered brushes. When I peek through, I’m emotionless as to what I’ve found; a large reindeer lies incapacitated on the cold ground. Both its legs are cut badly, and the cold is not helping with its condition. The animal still struggles to move, shouting at the wind, unable to get back on its hooves. It remains lying there as if not having the will or the strength to get back up. This is a perfect opportunity to gain some meat from it. I aim my rifle at the prefect spot. My finger rests on the trigger, ready to fire the blow. It’s been a few seconds, and yet I haven’t made the action that’ll decide this animal’s fate. That’s because another feeling has come over me to combat my excitement for free meat; sorrow. This animal was wandering in the frozen woods not too long ago, and got hurt by something. Now, unfortunate as it is, it lies out in the open, suffering through the cold weather and starving. Letting out a sigh, I lower my rifle and walk over to the creature with ease. Catching a glimpse of me, the mammal only stares up at the stranger that has walked into its view.

“It’s pretty bad, isn’t it?” I say. “And there’s no way to heal from it… All you can feel is pain and suffering… You just want it all to end, don’t you?” The animal remains silent as if knowing what I mean. “I understand what you’re feeling… It’s never good to suffer… I can fix that for you…” I line my shot up to its head. “I’m sorry…” I squeeze the trigger. Bang! The reindeer ceases its movement and lies there motionless. I know what I did was cruel, but it was necessary because we need food, and I didn’t want this poor creature to suffer. I’m wasting time… I put my rifle away and take out my knife, making my way to the side of the dead mammal. Kneeling on my knees and stabbing its belly, I slice my blade across and open the stomach, where I proceed to cut the biggest parts of the animal. Blood pools by my knees, so I’m forced to lift them and bend my back. It’s painful to bend my back, putting stress on it while doing work. Talk about pain and suffering… Just a few more cuts and I’m done. I need as much meat as I can take so none of us end up hungry. Finally, after taking the last bits of the carcass, I stand and slide my knife away. Not too much meat, but it’ll do. And so, I make my way back to where the shack stands.

My mind is still troubled, though. Thinking back about the reindeer makes me think about things that have happened in my own past. In Liverpool’s orphanage, I was always the weak one, pushed by most of the kids who resided there. When you’re small and alone, you are easy prey for those who are bigger. I have not made a single friend from that orphanage, either because everyone thought I was something from the underworld, or they’d leave before you’d get to know them. Yes, I’ve had a sad life in Liverpool. I guess that’s why I’ve joined the royal army. I was sick and tired of being labeled as the “weak one”. I also think it’s unfair how nature picks off the weak and chooses the strong over them without giving them a chance. My destiny is to help those who are helpless and defend them from any harm that comes to them. And with the world now covered in snow and ice, things are much harder for the weaklings. Nonetheless, we’ve always triumphed over nature, and we shall triumph over it again!

I’m back at the shoddy cabin, now. As walk through the door and close it behind me, I’m greeted with yawns. The girls have just woken up and shift their gazes at me. “Rise and shine, Ladies,” I tell them. “Slept peacefully?”

“Zach,” Emmy begins, letting out a cough as soon as she speaks. “Where have you gone?”

“Was only out for a few minutes,” I explain. “Just needed to look for extra food for our journey. Can’t make it to Winterhome on empty stomachs now, can we?”  

“We shouldn’t really go out just yet,” protests Carly. “Emmy is still sick, isn’t she?”

“Aye,” I reply. “Perhaps some venison stew may help with that cold.” I approach the woodpile, replenish the stock, and start another fire. Taking an iron pot and cooking set with some spoons and bowls found from the corner, I set up the suspension above the fire before placing the pot on it. Then, I add the venison, and some snow found from outside. As we’re waiting for the stew to cook, I sit back and begin a new conversation. “So, girls, what are your plans for when we reach Winterhome? Aside from hugging your families.”

“Hopefully please the people with good art,” Carly answers. “It’s hard now to be happy in a world full of snow. I want to make everyone happy with whatever I draw, and give them inspiration to never give up and just keep on as if it’s nothing.” Quite a good dream at that. Making people happy with art doesn’t seem like a terrible idea. In fact, I’m sure the citizens of Winterhome wouldn’t mind viewing marvelous works the cat has created. Huh, it really makes me ponder the kind of stuff Carly has drawn. I’ll have to ask her for the sketches of her sketchbook.

“I…” Emmy takes her time to explain her new purpose. “I have no clue… It hasn’t crossed my mind on what I plan to do once we get to Winterhome.” She lets out a cough.

“You hadn’t given any thought to it?” asks Carly. “Well, I’m sure being an engineer, you’ll get to do a lot of technological stuff like building machines for the city.”

“I’m not sure I want to be an engineer anymore… I’m quite interested in in the arts and want to pursue that kind of career in it.”

“Okay,” I add. “That’s fine, if there even is room to be an artist. I wish you both luck on your aspirations.”

“How about you, Zach,” Emmy utters before a cough. “What are your plans for Winterhome?”

I hadn’t given it much thought. I was mostly concern about the safety of both her and Carly, as well as anyone else I had encountered, that I was blind to think of my own future in the new world. So, I muster up something that is understandable. “I look after those who are weak and unable to fend for themselves. If they allow it, I could be assigned to help watch over the people.”

“What does that mean?” Carly butts in. “In what way would you watch over the people?”

“Just as a guard,” I explain. “You’ve seen the riots and the unrest around the world, haven’t you? When crops of the world suddenly died and the imminent cold caused mass panic?” The two girls nod. “Even in an apocalyptic winter, there is bound to be unrest and riot. There needs to be order, especially in a new civilization.”

Emmy continues to nod her head. “Okay, I understand. You’re very kind and protective, Zach. We appreciate everything you’ve done and what you are doing now. If you hadn’t come along, I would’ve been killed in that cave.” She coughs again.

Carly agrees with her. “The same goes with me. Only, if you didn’t stop and encounter me, I would’ve fallen into the springs and froze to death.”

Their words nearly bring tears to my eyes, yet I try hard to hold them back as it shows a sign of weakness. So, my mouth bends into a smile to show my reaction. “Thank you.” The fumes of the venison meat fill my nostrils, bringing me back to reality and reminding me that I’ve got food to dole out to hungry girls, and I. “Oh! I nearly had forgotten!” I stir the pot with a spoon nearby and ready some bowls of the stew. “Fresh venison stew?” After readying a bowl each, I hand each one to the girls before taking one myself. “This will help combat the cold.”

“Couldn’t we have had our rations instead?” Carly queries.

“We could’ve,” I answer. “But, warm rations are not really a pleasant meal. Besides, I’ve got enough meat to last us a few more days from my hunt.”

“This stew is delicious,” comments Emmy, taking the spoon from her mouth and then swallowing. “You learn to make this with the army?”

“I’m not really too good of a cook, but I’ve learned to dish up some simple, yet delicious meals here and there. Perhaps the citizens of Winterhome can cook better than I can when we get there.” That actually reminds me, we have to get back on our travels.

“I’m not to sure it’s all right,” Carly says. “Isn’t Emmy still sick?”

“It’s nothing more than a cold,” protests Emmy. “I don’t feel as ill as I did from last night.”

I face her, concerned for her health. “You sure about that? We can rest for a few more hours until you are ready.”

“I’ll be fine,” she juts. “I just need more of this venison stew.” The warthog continues to slurp on the steaming liquid of mouth-watering meat. Carly and I both follow her motives, taking our time to finish the well-cooked soup I had prepared for us. Though, I would’ve liked for us to have been up and about already, which would have us in Winterhome by this hour. But, nonetheless, we shall wait longer, for food is more important, and we will talk away as we finish the last of our hot meal.

@carlycmarathecat​ @emmy-the-absolute-goof​

[sick-raven]

To Fulfil the Mission - Jill/Nikolai fanfic

To celebrate REmake3 coming soon and destroying the canon we all know and love, I decided we all deserve Jill and Nikolai banging in the train.

That’s all.

You can also read it on AO3.

To Fulfil the Mission

The things weren’t going smoothly at all. The train was still stuck, Carlos was running around the city trying to get the damn thing moving, Mikhail was unconscious most of the time, and as if that wasn’t enough, the target joined their group. Killing Jill Valentine would get him a lot of money, but so will his observation of the Tyrant if it tears the woman apart. That is, if it doesn’t kill Nikolai with her, those things were unpredictable.

Nikolai wanted to get as far away as possible, but to get to the hospital and extraction point, he needs this train to move. He can only pray that the team won’t get killed sooner than he needs or that the bitch won’t go away alerting the hordes of their position.

Jill was in the other carriage trying to fix a radio. She was handy but even her skill cannot get through Umbrella’s jamming. There was no way to get the signal out of city – they were stuck here. Of course, unless you know the place from where to call and a correct frequency, but that was only for his use. Everyone else will be dead at that point.

Not him though. He couldn’t look Grim Reaper in the eyes if he didn’t manage to get out of this hellhole. Nikolai was pretty sure that if HUNK entered this city, he would die behind the first corner.

Nikolai was watching Jill through door window. She was leaning over radio with unhappy look on her face, working with tiny screwdriver. She looked horrible – they all did. Dirty, tired, sweaty and bruised. Her every movement showed that she is professional – there was nothing delicate about Jill Valentine. He’s seen his share of women soldiers; she would be one of the finest. It was almost a shame she was on the other side of the barricade and destined to die. He would love to cooperate with someone so effective.

As if she felt his gaze, she looked up. Their eyes have met – they didn’t like each other at all. The instinct – he felt she is dangerous, and she probably knew there was something shady about him. It was only fair to despise each other, but for now, cooperation was vital. Nikolai nodded and entered the carriage.

“Will you fix it?” he asked.

“I’m trying, but it’s busted,” she answered without snarky tone. They were too tired for any charade. “Have you heard from Carlos?”

“No.”

Radio silence didn’t make him nervous. Carlos can take care of himself and he’s proven it more than once. And if by any chance he was in danger, he would let them know. They all knew waiting for someone who will never come is the worst.

Jill stood up and stretched her back. She had nice body, strong. Painful expression showed the bruises are bothering her. She won’t be able to stand against the Tyrant. Ten seconds of life, and that only if she is fast enough. Nikolai wouldn’t bet on more time.

“I’m going to go get him,” she said.

“Carlos can take care of himself, scattering is not a good idea,” he disagreed.

“He can be hurt or dead, we need those parts.” Jill ensured her gun is loaded and put it back to holster.

“I won’t let you.”

She gave him nasty look. “I am not one of your soldiers.”

Only if she was. But she wasn’t, and she was marked for death. Walking out there was calling the Tyrant to come and wreck this place up and kill everyone. Including him.

“You will leave, Carlos will come back and we will run in the circles. You will stay here.”

Jill wasn’t listening at all. She aimed for the door. Nikolai stood in her way.

“Out of my way,” she demanded.

“No.”

They were measuring each other. Will she pull out her gun? Run for the other door? Attack him? He was waiting for any sign of movement.

Her blue eyes were so cold.

She went after her gun.

Nikolai grabbed her wrist just as she was taking it out. He tried to wrestle the gun away from her, but she was strong. Jill was fast, punched him in the face. The world was full of stars for a moment, but the instinct kicked in and Nikolai grabbed her by the neck before she could follow up on her attack. Much heavier than her, it was easy to force her against the train door. She grumbled, tried to kick him, but it took him almost no effort at all to pacify her.

His whole body was holding her, pressing against her, forcing her to not move. The hatred in her eyes rose. Nikolai took the gun apart and threw it behind himself.

“You stay put or you will get us all killed,” he hissed at her.

“Fuck you,” Jill said back. This close her eyes were pretty, and her body was so soft. It will be a waste, really, when the Tyrant comes. It will squeeze the life out of her, left her broken, pretty skin torn and bleeding. All the warmth gone, just cold carcass.

Jill’s expression changed from angry to shocked. Nikolai let go of her quickly and took step back. Damn it. Women were his weakness. His intimidation was ruined by fucking hard-on.

“I’m not an animal,” he scoffed as Jill was collecting herself. “Just stay here, Valentine. It’s better for all of us, if you don’t go wander around.”

She better dies soon; this was like keeping an eye on fucking kindergarten.

Jill massaged her neck and begun to pick up parts of her weapon. Unarmed in this city meant certain death. As she was putting her gun back together, Nikolai’s radio crackled.

“This is Carlos. I’m heading back. I will be there at forty.”

“Copy. Move your ass,” Nikolai answered with a smile. See, Valentine? I told you, the goody-two-shoes will be back in no time and they can get this scrap moving. And after that, he can kill them all, he won’t need them anymore. He has a mission to fulfil.

Now, this was interesting. Jill watched him with an expression he hasn’t seen yet. After what happened he would think she will be angry, embarrassed or sorry for acting rushed. Umbrella soldiers probably weren’t company she would expect while in here, but that didn’t excuse stupid behaviour.

However, she looked at him differently. Curiously, spark of expectation. Or maybe he was making it up. It happened to him before.

“Forty minutes,” she repeated and put one hand on her hip. “So?”

He had to be making this up. “So what?”

With a sigh she walked to him and grabbed his crotch. He leaned on the door partially in shock. “Getting it hard in the situation like this, that’s admirable,” Jill smirked. “You have forty minutes, are you gonna fuck me or not?”

He just about saw through the door, Mikhail was in the land of unconscious, still breathing.

“Come on, you hate me, I hate you, but this might be our last chance before we die horribly,” Jill squeezed his balls and he gasped. Her breast pressed against him, making her cleavage prominent, wet with sweat.

She dares to talk to him like that. Nikolai smiled, showing teeth. He found her neck again. One movement and she would be dead. He felt her larynx vibrate as she laughed shortly. The last thought ran through his head – but he stopped it. They were secure, they had eyes on every corner, they missed nothing.

He forced her to change places. Now he was holding her against the door. She massaged his crotch; his dick was hard and pushing against his pants almost painfully. He breathed out, looking into her needy and hungry eyes. Elite operative, strong soldier, fucking whore.

He slid his hand under her shirt and squeezed her boob. She bit her lip.

“I want to hear you, Jill,” he hissed between the tension striking from his crotch.

“You have to try harder for that.”

Making fun of him, huh? He pinched her nipple, twisted it between his fingers, getting a moan out of her, her throat vibrating again under his hand. He smiled victoriously. She wanted to play him; she is the one who will have to play harder.

“That’s what I like.” He stopped teasing her and let go. She breathed in, fighting urge to push unto him. Instead she started to unzip his pants. He grabbed her hand, twisted it and forced her to turn around. He pushed her face against the window, her breath left mist on the glass.

“You jerk,” she hissed, but she didn’t fight him back. He held her strongly, rubbing his crotch against her butt.

“Do you feel it?” he whispered into her ear, found her breast and squeezed it. Her breasts were soft, nipples hard, he would love to play with them all day. He took the time to enjoy how malleable they are. With every squeeze she moaned silently.

“Ah – I feel nothing,” she tried to gather herself, but her face was red, and her body trembled. “Are you even, hnngh, doing something?”

Her teasing got to him. Every mocking word bit him hard. Not enough for her? He will show her what has he got. Fucking S.T.A.R.S. thinking they are better than everyone else. She will get the fuck she won’t ever forget.

He undid her pants and took them off. Before she could react, there he was, pushing against her again. His hand slipped between her legs. She was already dripping, her inner thighs wet, puss running down her legs.

“You feel nothing, hm?” he whispered again and ran fingers around her clit. Jill’s body pushed against him, he held her tight on place. She won’t be able to get away. He will give her everything. He will enjoy every tremble, every moan, he will make her melt in his arms.

“Y-yes,” she managed to get out between the gasps.

Slipping between her lips, in and out, enjoying the warmth, pushing against her inner wall. She started to move with him, hungry for more, to pick up the pace. Nikolai grinned unzipping his pants. He sighed in relief taking his hard dick out. He rubbed it against the perfect skin on her butt.

“Do you feel this?” he asked aiming his member into her hole. His tip touching the gulping, wet lips.

“Yes.”

“Say my name.”

She clenched her teeth and closed her eyes. Her pussy pulsated under his fingers. He slipped them out, teased her clit.

“Come on, Valentine, say my name.”

She whimpered like a puppy when they take away its toy. The trembles got more intense, he felt her body tense, trying to get his fingers to move again.

“My name,” he demanded right into her ear.

“Nikolai!” she almost shouted. He thrusted; her pussy took him all in at once. She screamed again. Warmth surrounded him, sweet cunt took him whole, pulsating with expectation. He didn’t even have to move; Jill was already pulling out and thrusting him back again. She was riding him as if she was in charge here. He squeezed her breast again, pushed strong and immobilized her.

“N-no, don’t stop,” she begged, squirming.

“You still don’t understand,” he chuckled.

She gasped. “Nikolai!”

That was better. That’s how you learn the bitch to listen. He thrusted again, once.

“Come on,” she demanded.

“Hmmm?”

“Nikolai.”

Again. This time she didn’t wait. She said his name, over and over. Her voice was raising, as he fucked her hard, slipping into her pussy, deep, again and again.

“Aaaah, Nikolai, don’t stop, fuck me,” she begged, her body melting under him, matching his pace. Faster and faster. The tension growing higher, the build up getting up and up.

He reached the peak at the same time as Jill screamed his name. She went tense, his balls emptied themselves right into her cunt, spraying the walls. Then she crumbled under him, the limbs couldn’t hold her. She was shaking, and he was the only thing that kept her from falling on the ground. Her pussy still pulsated around his member, pushing his semen out. It dripped out, coursed on her legs down.

Nikolai sighed in relief. This woman will never forget him. Not that she will have much time. It was too bad. He would love to see her after he gets out of the city. He would show her how he is when he is not tired, dirty and stressed.

This wasn’t even his peak form.

Although, looking at her catching her breath and trying to get herself modest again, he would bet she wasn’t either. Maybe he will be the one to remember this forever. You do not meet someone so perfect every day.

Or that was only his wishful thinking.

[sofhyuck]

Cracked Up

Genre: domestic!Mark, fluff, being mean to Mark

Word Count: 2.1k (another lil baby I have no time for long)

Excerpt: “Is it be mean to Mark day or something?”

“Every day is be mean to Mark day.” 

Masterlist

A/N once again an au that stems from a riveting conversation with @cinanamon about how Gross Mark is and yet we still love him

Hair tickled your nose and you brushed it out of your face, bringing your hand back down to rest on Mark’s arm. His chest rose and fell softly with each breath, heat radiating off of his bare skin, warming your own. With each breath he took your head moved up and down, burrowing your nose into his chest. Every once in a while you placed a kiss to his skin, his hands tickling at your sides as he rubbed small circles on your waist. His sweatpants clad legs intertwined with your pant-less ones and you found comfort in the soft fabric of his pants against your legs. Days where Mark had off were one in a million, and the two of you always made sure to make the most of them. For you and Mark, that meant mainly spending your day in bed.  

Suddenly recalling a story Mark had offhandedly told you last week, you spoke up. “Is Doyoung still on your ass for trying to scare the dreamies?”

“It was Halloween and it wasn’t even that scary! Besides, it wasn’t even my idea, I was just forced to participate.” Mark pouted into your hair, still sour that he was the only member feeling the wrath of one Kim Doyoung.

“That’s what you get for being dumb.”

“Can’t we go one day without you being mean to me.”

“It’s out of love Mark. I wouldn’t be mean to you if I didn’t actually like you.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“You know I love you stupid.”

“…I love you too.”

Silence once again settled across the room, Mark’s right hand moving to stroke along your back. Soft kisses were pressed into your hair every few minutes, Mark humming out of happiness. Nuzzling your nose into his neck, you inhaled deeply, prepared for a breath full of his familiar scent.

“Oh, jesus christ Mark are you serious?.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about babe.”

“Yes you fucking do Mark.”

“No clue.”

“Stop farting I swear to god I’m going to kick you!”

Mark reeled back, feigning shock at your accusation.

“How dare you ever assume that I would fart in your wonderful presence.”

“Bro you’re stinking up the room oh my god.”

“They don’t smell that bad!”

“So you admit that you are farting then.”

“Maybe so.” He mumbled, a pout settling across his lips.

“God how are you so disgusting yet incredibly lovable I don’t get it. It’s not fair”

“Hey, my farts prove that I, too, am human, no matter how perfect I may seem.”

“I really don’t know how to feel about that. Couldn’t you choose a less smelly human flaw?”

“They smell lovely, like flowers.”

“Sure buddy, keep telling yourself that.”

“Well what about this one then.”

You heard it before you smelled it.

“Let me go Mark oh my god I’m going to suffocate from the smell.” Mark’s arms only tightened around your waist, a mischievous smile on his face.

“Sorry babe, no can do. My arms seem to be somehow stuck in this position right now and I can’t let you go. There’s nothing I can do about it, sorry.”

“I will punch you.” You narrowed your eyes, already curling your hand into a fist.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, you know I would. In fact, I probably hit you more than I kiss you.”

“Yea and I have the bruises to prove it.”

“They’re punches of love.”

“The truth hurts.”

“Now let. Me. go.”

“No. Way.”

Mark’s arms loosened and he let out a heavy grunt as you landed a sharp fist on his stomach. Finally free from his grasp you rolled off the bed, ready to sprint out of the room. Before you even had the chance to turn the doorknob Mark had already recovered, his arms once again wrapping around your waist to pull you away from the door. His laughter filled the air as well as your groans of protest.

“I’m sorry for farting so much.” He whispered into your ear, laughter lacing his voice.

“I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for being so gross.”

“I’m not that gross.” He whined, turning you around so that you could see his pout.

“You leave your dirty clothes everywhere so that I have to clean them up, you literally fart the most out of all of NCT, and might I add you rarely shower after practice.”

“Well when you put it that way…”

“In fact, you could use a shower right now. I’m pretty sure you didn’t shower after practice last night and you certainly haven’t showered yet today.

“Gee mom, sorry, guess I stink too much for you to love me.”

“You got that right.”

“Fine. But I think you could use a shower too.”

“Excuse me mister but I showered this morning.”

“Yea, but I think you could use another one. You know, with me.” He added a wink at the end, already pulling you along with him to the bathroom.

“You’re an idiot.” You rolled your eyes, allowing him to drag you behind him.

“Yea but I’m your idiot and you loooove me.”

“I guess.” You huffed. The bathroom door closed behind the two of you and Mark pulled his sweatpants down, your shirt following suit. Ready to take off your underwear, you felt a pair of hands land firmly on your butt. Rolling your eyes, you leaned back into your boyfriend’s chest.

“What do you think you’re doing.” You said with a raised brow, making eye contact with him through the mirror in front of you.

“I’m just loving my baby.” He grinned, bringing his left hand up to grope at your chest.

“You’re such a pervert.”

“Hey, what do you think of this one? Ass and tits, good shit.”

“Genius Mark, you should put that on a T-shirt.”

“Maybe I will, I could make bank off of them.”

“I’m sure SM would love to hear one of their idols made a shirt like that.”

“They’d probably try to trademark it so that I have to give them all the profit.” He laughed, finally pulling his boxers off and stepping into the shower. You followed suit, joining him under the already warmed stream of water. His bangs had already flattened on his forehead and you pushed them off of his forehead, laughing at how his eyes squinted from the warm water.

“You’re such a cutie Markle.”

“Says the cutie, cutie.”

“Ew, gross.”

“Hey, I’m literally in the shower right now how can I be gross.”

“Correlation? None.”

“My logic makes perfect sense.”

“Sure, maybe to a five year old. And it’s quite a coincidence that you have the mindset of one.”

“Is it be mean to Mark day or something?”

“Every day is be mean to Mark day.” You laughed, pinching his cheek.

“You’ve wounded me. Now you have to kiss it better.” Rolling your eyes, you placed a quick peck to his cheek. With a pout he shook his head and placed a finger under your chin, swooping down to place a lingering kiss to your lips. You pulled away slowly from the kiss, reaching over to the shelves to grab the shampoo. About to open the bottle, Mark reaches out to stop you. You gave him a quizzical look, confused by his actions.

“I want to use yours, it smells nicer.”

“Have you been using my shampoo Mark? For how long? No wonder it’s been running out faster than usual.”

“It smells better than mine, plus it reminds me of you.” He whined, grabbing your bottle from the shelf.

“God I wanted to be mad at you but you’re too cute.” You took the bottle from his hand, squeezing some onto your hand, rubbing your hands together to create a light lather. Mark gazed at you fondly as you reached up to massage the shampoo into his scalp.

“Don’t get any into my eyes.” He mumbled.

“I would never! Now wash it out and make sure you don’t get any into your eyes. I know you do that almost every shower.”

“I do not.”

“Keep telling yourself that bud.”

Water ran down Mark’s back, some of it washing over you as well. After washing the shampoo from his hair, Mark turned off the water. You grabbed a towel for the each of you and handed one to Mark, wrapping your own around your body. Stepping out of the shower, Mark followed close behind, towelling his hair. The both of you got dressed and headed towards the living room, Mark practically hanging off of your back the whole way there.

“Hey are you hungry?” He spoke into your ear, nipping lightly at the skin.

“Hmmm, yea. Should we call out soon.”

“I was hoping you’d cook.”

“I’m tired Mark.”

“I know but I miss your fried rice.”

“Ugh, fine, that’s easy enough.” You removed yourself from his grasp, grabbing the necessary ingredients from your refrigerator and pantry. Mark reached over to grab the carton of eggs but you slapped his hand away before he could.

“Ow what was that for?” He whined, pulling his hand away to soothe it with his other.

“There’s absolutely no way I’m letting you touch those, I’ve seen your track record.”

“At least let me try, babe. You know what they say, practice makes perfect!”

“Fine, here I’ll give you a good example.” Placing a frying pan onto the burner, you turned it on and waited patiently for it to heat up. After you deemed the pan sufficiently hot, you carefully took an egg out of the carton. Tapping it on the counter, you brought the egg over the pan and pulled the shell apart at the crack, allowing the egg to fall gracefully onto the pan.

“Did you see that? No broken yolk, no egg shells?”

“Yep, got it. I’m gonna do this.”

With a deep breath, Mark held out his hand. Shaking your head, you placed an egg into his outstretched hand, watching him carefully for any sign of dropping said egg. You held your breath, scared of any wrong move.

“Wait!” Mark interjected, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. You had been so concentrated on the egg, you had nearly forgotten about the boy holding it. “I want you to film this just in case I actually do it.” You grimaced as he fished around in his pocket for his phone, his other holding tightly onto the egg.

“Don’t hold it too tightly it might break.”

“Shhh, I know don’t worry babe I got it.”

Handing you his phone, you swiped over to the camera app, still wary of Mark’s hold on the egg.

“Ok, are you ready?”

You pressed the record button and flashed him a quick ‘ok’ sign with your fingers. “Yea, go for it.” You held your breath as Mark gently but firmly tapped the egg on the counter. You followed his every move and he pulled open the egg. The egg fell with a satisfying ‘plop’ and you moved closer to the pan with his phone.

“Oh my god.” You breathed. “Oh my fucking god mark you actually did it!”

“I did? I-I mean I did! Look at that, unbroken yolk and no egg shells!”

“I’m so proud of you!” You laughed, throwing your arms around his neck and placing a swift peck to his lips. Moving away from you, Mark grabbed his phone from your grasp and focused the lens on himself.

“Uh, yea, this one goes out to all my haters. You all thought I couldn’t but I did it. Yea, no matter what you know I’ll win it”

“Stop rapping you weirdo. And what about me, I believed in you!”

“Of course, c’mere.” He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side so that you’d be in frame. “This one also goes out to my baby, my number one supporter. I love you so much.”

“I love you too dummy.”

“You can only refer to me as the egg master from now on, sorry baby.”

“Don’t let all the fame get to your head, big head.”

Mark stopped filming and gave you a deep kiss. “Thank you so much for supporting me through such a perilous endeavor baby.”

“God, you’re so annoying.”

“Let me send this to the boys, they’re gonna be so impressed.”

“Mhmm, this is a really big milestone for you. I’m so proud of you.”

Mark pulled you in for another kiss, only pulling away to send the video. He smiled down at you, tweaking your nose out of adoration. Dings suddenly filled the room, his NCT group chat blowing up with texts of disbelief. There were a few texts of disgust at your pda sprinkled throughout, most of which came from Donghyuck.

“Hey, do you smell something burning?”

“Oh fuck the fucking eggs!”

[neshabeingchildish]

Poly Wanna? Ch. 14

Content Warning for sexual discussion and conversation about anatomy, body image, and sex.

@adorkable-blackgirl @chenoahchantel @henry-p-fart @up-the-tube An update, Loves! I had time today. And mental availability. 

Sense and Sens(ibility)uality

Nothing had to REALLY change, as far as Henry was concerned. Well… He'd been sexless for months, because he had only been able to feel sexual whenever he thought about them, and they weren't in a position to explore that, before. Now they were, and he didn't want to be the one to bring it up, lest he looked like that was his motivation for getting them to agree to be his. So, while he watched Jasper seduce Charlotte with his fingertips on a regular basis and saw her frequently grabbing, swatting, and rubbing on Jasper's butt. He kinda… just silently went without those types of affections. Jasper would kiss him hello on the neck whenever he came to bed at night, they held hands at brunch after their workouts and no hour was free from a hand kiss from Jasper, when they were in the same space for a while. But Char? She was something else.

She became awkward whenever Henry touched her, now, and she never seemed to be reaching for him. What changed? They had been doing so well before it became official. He decided that maybe he would ask Jasper about during one of their morning dates, and hoped that Jasp wouldn't tell him to ask her. He didn't, but Henry hated to hear what he had to say.

"You have to remember that she had a lot of time to stew in what you said about her sexually," Jasper told him, with a shrug. "You made her feel sexually incompetent and insecure about her body. Not necessarily in general… But, definitely at least with you. You told other people what she was bad at and what you hated about her appearance. She's not going to just feel comfortable trusting you in that space again because you got her a pretty ring. In fact, knowing her, she's never gonna let go of that. Even if she manages to forgive it completely."

"That was YEARS ago!" Henry complained.

"She's got the same body," Jasper said, then smiled and bragged, "But not the same skills!" Henry blushed. "I haven't had a single cause for complaint about anything she does with her mouth..."

"Okay!" Henry said, tight pantsed and frustrated.

"I can teach you what I did," Jasper said.

"Pssshhhht! I am a sex master. I could blow her mind, if you know… I had the chance."

"I can teach you what I did," Jasper repeated.

"Just… Tell me what you THINK you could teach me."

"Well… I never tried to have sex with Charlotte. Even when it became clear that there was something between us and when I was very much-so interested in having sex with her, I never tried to. Instead, I just appreciated everything else about her that I could."

"I know that and I do that."

"You know that in a textbook sort of sex and relationship specialist way, but you definitely do not do it."

"This morning, I thanked her for always making us juice!" Henry said.

"You did," Jasper acknowledged with a nod and the shrug of his shoulders, "I thanked her for taking time out of her day to do work that could only help make me better. It sounds like the same thing to you, but yours only thanked her for what she's doing for you. I made sure to focus in on the fact that I know that what she does for me takes something away from her - her time. She feels validated by that kinda stuff. Before we ever made love, I spent several of our times together just complimenting everything. Her looks, her actions - everything from the lines on her muscles, to the quality of her hair, from how she kissed to the sounds she made whenever I touched her. Like… EVERYTHING. She needs attention and validation, but she would NEVER say that she does or ask for it. She's a proud person and she only tends to open herself up to those that she doesn't have to ask for the things that she knows that she deserves. And her standards were already high, and she has been with this super amazing dude that has made her feel even more worthy, so her standards are like super amazingly high now. Only somebody willing to go above, beyond and then some are gonna register to her on the intimacy level. Like, I think she wants to trust you and love you and stuff, but I think that you haven't really shown her anything more than love. You're gonna have to learn to worship."

Henry sat and thought a while, nursing his mimosa as Jasper watched, stirring his boozy milkshake with the wide straw. Finally, Henry sighed and said, "Teach me." Jasper's face was filled with victory.

.

All three of them had the night off. Charlotte had been working primarily on her project with Schwoz, forsaking the lounge to do so, though she and Henry went in to visit Jasper sometimes and they still called her for musical performances. But, on this night, Henry had cooked, while some of her favorite music played in the background and she read on the couch with the fluffy blanket around her. Henry had brought her some pre-dinner fruit and told her, "I know that you're saving the world in your own special way whenever you spend time in the lab, so I wanted you to be able to relax tonight." She furrowed her eyebrows at this, but graciously accepted the plump, assorted, peeled grapes.

Jasper had on his booty shorts and her eyes followed him all around the house, as he did stuff. Henry was in a pair of silk pajamas and she was wondering why both of them were dressed for bed when nobody had even eaten yet. But you know what? Her book was good and she was getting eyefuls of butt, so she wasn't gonna question a thing… Out loud… just yet. She continued reading and ogling, where desired and eventually got up.

"Are you going to bed?" Henry wondered.

"Unless you don't want me to? I can go to my room if you and Jasper have plans," she said.

"I kinda wanted us all together tonight," Henry said and shrugged his shoulders a little.

"Okay. Well, I'll most likely still be awake whenever you come to bed. I'm not hungry. I just had a queen's share of grapes."

"We'll be in after dinner," Jasper said.

"Can you come see something for a moment?" She asked him.

"Without Henry?" He clarified, a little bit wound up.

She shut her book and smiled a little. "Okay. So, I feel like the two of you are up to something, but I don't know what, so tell me whether or not this is my imagination."

Jasper smiled gently and shrugged his shoulders, "You're the smartest person here. We can't get anything past you. We're definitely up to something. I'm helping Henry learn to win your affections."

"I don't think that what you have can be taught, Jasper. Henry is going to have to appeal in his own way," she said, shaking her head.

"Okay," Jasper said. She could tell that it was not okay.

"Anyway, drawing me to your thickums booty buttcheeks isn't even something that Henry is equipped to do," she said.

"No offense to Henry, but RIP to what would have been his butt."

-Charlotte

"I OBVIOUSLY was not trying to learn how to entice her with my butt!"

-Henry

"Know what? Dinner can wait. Let's just chill for a little bit. Is that okay?" Jasper asked, in the voice. She knew that voice. The soft, loving, I am gonna love you down really good, if you let me voice. She ALWAYS let him do whatever he suggested in that voice. She'd jokingly said it was one of his superpowers.

"They make a lot of jokes about my sex culture, but really… it's no joke. I'm very serious about everything. Those are serious moments, to me. I've never really had a casual encounter or meaningless one. For me, any time that I'm granted someone's space intimately, that's a sign of trust and expectation. I want to be able to deliver whatever it is that my partner is looking for. That's something that hasn't always been reciprocated for me, but I think I'm finally in a situation where it will be and I kinda want all of us on that same wavelength. Charlotte and I are amazing together. Henry and I were amazing together in a different way. The three of us could be dream status amazing, but it'll take work, of course."

Charlotte nodded her head to Jasper's suggestion. Henry noted that her eyes changed color They looked darker, were heavy lidded and glossy, twinkling. Jasper hoisted her up, seemingly with no ease at all. Henry also paid attention to that, because Charlotte was light and tiny, but he still had to put a little work into picking her up… or at least he used to. Maybe it'd be easier these days. At any rate, he followed them to the bedroom. Charlotte stared at Jasper's face the entire walk there and whenever he set her on the bed, her eyes still didn't leave him. That sharp, dedicated focus - Henry envied it. He remembered her watching him very intently at one point, too. Seeing her with Jasper was still a blend of envy and enticement, but something that he now felt like he was entitled to, instead of imposing upon. The levels of emotional confusion within the relationship were ever changing, at the moment and he knew that might last for a little while, until the three found their groove within their new title. The professional in him knew that there could be a loving, giving, fulfilling relationship between all three of them, without there being isolation or discord.

The Henry in him felt like Charlotte was going to have involuntary turf wars with him anytime he wanted to get close to Jasper. Jasper was the most… accommodating, of the three of them. Henry was the most selfish. Charlotte was the most sensitive, if you can believe it. She wasn't sensitive in that she still cried about the past or got her feelings hurt easily. But, she was sensitive as in - she was the last to have been faced with addressing her pain and it was still a sore spot for her AND she was a little untrusting, even if she didn't WANT to be.

Charlotte, a naturally suspicious person, who learned at an early age that she couldn't trust the very first man that she was taught how a man is supposed to love, who at a less young, but still young age found out that she couldn't even trust the men that she thought she had done well in selecting as friends, if nothing else, and now, not only was she to trust them both with her heart, mind and body, but trust them not to forsake her as they also had access to each others'? It was a lot to expect of such a suspicious person who already had been betrayed in the past. It was easier for her to trust Jasper. Not only had they already dealt with him dating Henry almost as soon as she left the picture, but they had also talked about their relationship beyond him, had built up a relationship beyond him and had a relationship, a great one, in tact before he came back into their lives. So, Henry was well aware that not only was he dealing with her conscious distrust for the obvious and stated reasons, but also the subconscious one that probably identified him as a wedge that had become between she and Jasper. She would take some time to fully accept that he was not that, but a blanket that both of them could wrap themselves in for warmth and security.

Watching she and Jasper kiss was like a religious experience for Henry. He saw such love, trust, service. It was like watching someone do the thing that they were most passionate about - something sacred and wholesome that they allowed him to be a part of, and he felt the weight of its importance and the honor of his access. Jasper's fingers traced Charlotte's curves and angles, and he glanced at Henry and beckoned him closer with the soft jerk of his head. Henry came over and sat in a seat next to the bed. Jasper scoffed and collecting him by the tips of his fingers to gently guide him to the bed. Charlotte simply watched. Henry took that as permission and got into bed next to them, rested his face on his fist as he lay on his side to observe this magic up close. These were the two most beautiful creatures in the world, as far as he knew, and they both wanted to be here, with him.

Jasper walked his fingers across Charlotte's skin, like it was a little man and told Henry, "Whenever Charlotte and I first became intimate, I told her that I wish that I could shrink myself down in size, so that exploring her could be a long, adventurous journey. I drew a path on her body of the places that I would explore, confessed where I would spend most of my time, professed how I would commune with my surroundings on the emprise."

Winded, Charlotte said, still staring into Jasper's eyes, but clearly addressing Henry, "It was like, he knew that I wanted him already and that I was ready for him, but he wanted to make me completely powerless against him."

"You don't need to have power against me in this setting, Goddess. I'm just here to serve you. Not making you powerless, but giving you gifts that assure you that your power can rest, for now. You've got me to give you what you need in these moments." He glanced at Henry and said, "And now, you have him, too."

Charlotte's eyes lit up as she looked at Henry with anticipation. Of what, he wasn't sure, but he knew that all he wanted in life was to give her whatever it was! Not knowing made him hesitate. What did she want? Should he make a move? Should he do what he'd just seen Jasper do, or would that make her feel less trustworthy of him and what he was bringing into her life? Her shoulders slumped ever so slightly during his thought processing and he also noticed that the light in her eyes dimmed a little. WHAT did she need from him? Should he just ask her?

Henry reached for Charlotte's hand and she felt her heart jump. "Hey…" He said, delicately, "I have no idea what you want or need from me, but I'm learning, okay? I'm paying attention. I'm taking it all in. Every word, every single action, even the smallest flicker of light in your eyes and the most seemingly unnoticeable slump of your shoulders. I'm noting these things, so I can be greater later. It might take me some time, but I don't just want to be right for you, I want to be perfect for you, like Jasper is, but with it being me, bringing me and me giving you what you request and require of me. Please, trust me and also, if it isn't asking too much of you, help me?"

Her shoulders fell a little more, but this time, in a more relaxed manner. "I'm sorry, Henry. You've been amazing, I promise. It isn't you that's causing the problem that you're noticing. It's me. Unlearning is not as easy for me as it might be for other people, because I'm used to being right. So, whenever I'm not… It takes me a little while longer to disprove my original mindset, to myself. You haven't done anything wrong, as far as I know. You don't have to stress yourself out over it." He leaned forward to kiss her, pausing in front of her lips, in case it wasn't okay, so she could meet him the rest of the way. She met him and he melted.

.

Henry was learning a lot from Jasper. He liked the way that he peppered in appreciation/affirmation into what he was doing, no matter how small the action seemed. Jasper was very vocal and interactive in an endearing way, not necessarily a "dirty talk" way, that Henry would have subscribed to (and liked personally, for himself too). But, with Jasper, it was more like he would already be in the process of having you, but he's still seducing you, too. And Henry loved Jasper and Charlotte's takes on why that was. He believed there was truth to both. Jasper definitely wanted to render her powerless, but he was sure that Jasper also wanted her to feel comfortable, safe and treasured.

The first time that Jasper saw Henry fiddling with Charlotte's breasts, he saw her face wrinkle in… something, and he stopped to figure out where he went wrong. "They aren't stress balls, Henry," Jasper said, with a tiny laugh. It should be noted that Jasper's comment was caring, not mocking. Jasper collected both of Charlotte's breasts tenderly cupped in his large hands and kissed her on the cheek. "Do you know what these are for? They're powerful. They're meant to feed, nourish, and make smarter and healthier babies. In the meantime, she allows us to enjoy them for entertainment. That does include stress relief, but she's not some inanimate object of affection, therefore also no part of her can be. Give, even these the same respect and consideration you give to her as a person. They're part of her person."

Henry wasn't sure when Jasper became so knowledgeable and smooth in these areas but he loved it. Charlotte broke into his thoughts with an observation, "Henry likes to smash them together and put his penis in the middle and rub it between them. I'm not really built for it, so they're not as fun for him as they seem to you."

Jasper shrugged his shoulders and said, "More titty for me."

Henry interjected, "That is NOT an issue that I have! That was years ago and I already apologized for that…" Jasper and Charlotte both stared at him, Jasper's hands still boob cuffing. Henry wanted to giggle about that cute image, but kept his straight face on. "I was young and stupid. I didn't know that would ever be found out and I didn't think that it would be as big of a deal as it was. I'm sorry that I gave you a complex…" Jasper winced and Charlotte scoffed, but that was exactly what Henry could tell that he had done. He probably gave her multiple negative body issues, being her first love, the first person she was intimate with and also the first to break her heart in such a disrespectful and disparaging way.

Jasper kissed her on the cheek as she said, "It's not a complex if the issue is something that the person only has with YOU. I don't feel any kind of way about Jasper coming in contact with my breasts. He's always valued and appreciated all of me. So, no, I don't have a complex. I have reservations about somebody who talked negatively about my body interacting with said parts of body!"

"That's valid," Henry said and nodded his head, thinking he probably had made her recoil back into her shell with him by even suggesting it. She WAS the sensitive one. He forgot that sometimes, because she was so tough.

Jasper said, "If it has to happen, Hen - I've got squishable titties you can use."

Henry was going to argue that this wasn't a real issue that he had, but also… That idea needed to have a pin stuck into it, for later, because Henry did love boob stuff. He made a mental note and removed Jasper's hands from Charlotte. "I've got these!" He said. (Jasper still talked him through his experiences with them).

"Whenever Charlotte first let me see those, I was in awe. She's majestic. All of her parts are so perfect and proportioned like artwork, and she was a little reserved and uncomfortable, so I wasn't going to focus on anything else, but them, until she relaxed or if it would have happened, realized that she wasn't into it and told me that she was gonna go home." Henry's newfound appreciation and attention to her body definitely had the desired effect. She relaxed, and they were able to move on.

.

Henry was a very quick learner when it came to sex-related stuff. That was ONE area in which he didn't need to pay close attention or study hard or work harder. After the initial getting Charlotte to warm up to him, he was certain that she at least enjoyed him. Of course, he had that sinking feeling in his gut that she didn't appreciate him like she did Jasper, but that was probably because Jasper was simply that impressive. He'd actually gotten better with time, and was either way better than Henry remembered, or Henry felt differently about it because he felt differently about him. He did love those titties though. Jasper went shirtless a lot around the house. Charlotte usually went bottomless, either bare in a big shirt of Jasper's (which Henry figured was why he was walking around shirtless), or in a pair of undies and whatever shirt she'd had on that day or the night before. Between the both of them, Henry could hardly focus once he stepped foot inside of the place.

Jasper got groped and cuddled a lot. Henry always hugged on him and messed with his manboobies and Charlotte sometimes literally did not remove a hand from his butt. Like, one day, he was watering plants so Henry could sleep in after a rough night of crime fighting, and she followed him around, complimenting and rubbing on it… like, the WHOLE time! He couldn't concentrate and ALMOST over-watered someone! As a result, even though it was her "fault," she took the watering can in one hand to finish watering the plants, told Jasper to come with her and kept a handful of Jasper butt the entire time. One of them was constantly fondling his chest, and the other his butt, and NO! He absolutely was NOT complaining, but… jeesh! Between the both of them, he could hardly get anything done with all of the… bodily appreciation.

Cuddle dates were boss, though. Henry would hug him from the back, cupping his chest (an erogenous area for Jasper) and Charlotte would have her head rested on his chest/Henry's hands, her hair blessing both and both her petite little hands cradling his Jasper's butt cheeks.

"I think that because Charlotte loves butts and Henry doesn't really have one and Henry loves boobs and Charlotte doesn't really have much, I am the designated fun bags. I'm okay with that sometimes, but not like… ALL the time. I'm a human bean!"

"Did you say human BEAN?" - Interviewer

"What else would I say?"

"Okay… I really love the attention that my wondrous man titties and my thicc juicy booty gets, but I need some space!" Jasper snapped. Henry and Charlotte's eyes widened, and they only both just realized that they were rubbing on said parts while Henry was playing on his phone and Charlotte was reading an article on her Pearpad. Jasper had been sitting there, obviously trying to play a video game, but hands were on his person.

Charlotte nodded, got up out of the bed and said, "Of course, BootyBear. Sorry about that." Henry slid over some on the bed, gave her a look and returned to his phone. Charlotte sat down on the floor and Henry sat on the edge of the bed, facing her. She snuggled against his legs like a cat and he put his hand in her hair and began to pet her. Jasper glanced over at the two of them and instantly regretted sending them away. But… that was healthy! It was what he needed at the moment and they respected that. Nobody argued with him or said it was no big deal or anything like that.

After a while, Charlotte got tired of sitting on the floor and climbed into Henry's lap. It wasn't as cozy as Jasper's but she adored this feeling, as well. Later still, Jasper leaned back, on the two of them, putting his head between Char's thighs and noticed the amount of times Henry's hand reflexively reached for his chest, but he either quickly retracted it or Charlotte caught it and interweaved their fingers, kissed his hand and gave him a sympathetic look. I know you want to squish our juicy boy, but he's feeling a way right now. Eventually, Henry just rested his free hand on Charlotte's breast. It was THAT small and it was actually softer than Jasper's, especially since he'd been working out so regularly again these days. And she nestled her hair into his neck, which slightly tickled, but in a way that you didn't want it to end.

Jasper cut off his video game and turned on some relaxation music, then turned around, this time face forward to lay in between Charlotte's thighs and fall asleep. His nose was directly in between her legs but he wasn't doing or trying anything sexual. She just had a scent that they all loved and whenever he was tired enough, it was warming and soothing, as opposed to the effect it had on him when he was full of energy and ready to go. Charlotte stroked his hair, continuing to read. Henry stroked hers, continuing to browse his emails. Jasper slept peacefully, without being objectified. Stuff was working out pretty gooooood.

[fan-imagines]

Bellamy Blake ~ Sky People

MASTERLIST

<follows storyline, so may contain *spoilers*>

Bellamy Blake x NeutralReader

Synopsis - The Sky People capture your brother, Lincoln. They torture him and Octavia helps you two to escape.

Word Count - 1.8k+

**Warnings** none

I watch the large metal shelter from my hiding place in a tree. My brother, Lincoln, was taken by the Sky People. Lincoln and I were out, hunting and gathering for our village, when we heard noises. He pushed me to some bushes, they knocked him out and they took him. He always does stuff like that, he always keeps me out of danger. Even if it is a small, little raccoon, he protects me. He has no regard for himself.  

I focus my vision on the one they call leader. Bellamy. He looks around before going into their metal shelter. I squint at him, wishing I could take a shot at him with my arrow. I know that I can’t do that. I would immediately regret it, and I wouldn’t want to get Lincoln killed.  

I look over the outer protection, seeing if there is any way I get sneak my way in. These Sky People are too careless and new to this planet to be aware of everything. I’m way smarter than them anyway. I see a spot where there are no guards. I swiftly jump down the tree and silently run to the area. I look up and see a tree I can climb and use to get over the wall with no sound.  

Once I get up the tree, I check again that there are no guards. When I see there are none, I jump over the wall roll when I land so I don’t injure my legs. I go into the shelter, that now looks larger than when I was out of the camp, but I know that no one can get me. I lightly push over the curtains and see that there is only a man laying on a table. He looks very pale, and I can tell that he has been poisoned by one of ours.  

‘’You will tell us!’’ I hear someone shout. I hear something hard meeting skin, and the sound of grunting. I know that they are torturing him. I look up to the noise and see a ladder that leads up to that noise. That must be where they are keeping my brother. I grab onto the bars and put my feet on the bars before pulling myself up. I go until I reach the top, and I open the heavy door.

‘’Whoa!’’ The same man shouts. I recognize him as Bellamy, and I’m glad that he comes to me. Before he can reach me, I see he is going to attack me, so I kick him in the stomach, then grab him and hold a knife to his throat. This sends a message for the others to not mess with me. I look up and catch Lincoln’s eyes. He looks angry and scared.  

‘’Stop.’’ I say.  

‘’So, you do speak English.’’ Says Bellamy, the one I carry.

‘’Let him go.’’ I disregard his comment and look at the blonde one that is kneeling in front of him.  

‘’That man down there is dying. I need to know the cure for the poison you put in him. Please. He will die if you don’t.’’ She pleads. I look to Lincoln again, and he lightly shakes his head.  

‘’Let him go first. Then I will show you.’’ I reason.  

‘’No deal.’’ Bellamy says and he head-butts me in the forehead, then punches me. It’s going to take more to hurt me than that. As he gets ready to punch me again, I grab his wrist, and kick his shin so he falls.  

‘’Then he dies.’’ I say. This time I get a better grip on him, and he is on the floor, so it wont be that easy for him to get a lead on me.  

‘’I know a way to get him to talk. Since he won’t.’’ A tan brunette says. She goes over to some blue wires, and rips them out. Light blue lights flash in the wires.  

‘’What are you doing?’’ The blond asks.

‘’Something they haven’t seen before.’’ She replies. She taps the ends together and they spark. Lincoln backs away, fearing the electricity passing through the wires.  

‘’No! Stop!’’ She touches his skin with the wire and he screams.

‘’You’re going to let Finn die!’’ The blond shouts at me.  

‘’He won’t let me die.’’ Another brunette girl walks to the knife, picks it up and cuts her arm. Lincoln thrashes against the chains. I suddenly remember why. This is the girl he told me about. The beauty he leaves flowers for.  

‘’Octavia!’’ Bellamy shouts, and he breaks away from me. Octavia falls to the ground and points to each vial individually.

‘’Is it that?’’ Lincoln nods. She holds it up, and the blond and brunette run back downstairs. Octavia wraps her forearm with a cloth.

‘’Now you.’’ Bellamy points at me. I raise my head, showing I’m not scared of him.

‘’What about me?’’ I challenge him. Two people come behind me and grab each of my arms. I thrash around, trying to break free, but one of them hits me in the back of the head, making my vision hazy. I can hear Lincoln fighting his chains.  

‘’I’m going upstairs to ask a few questions and interrogate. You, stay here with him, see if he talks.’’ Bellamy grabs me. But I can’t fight him, my strength and vision too weak. He climbs up the ladder, then has the other person lift me up so he can grab me. He hooks his arm under my armpits and pulls me up. I grunt at the force, but he doesn’t care. He throws me onto the floor, and I lay my head back on the cold floor.  

‘’Since I know now you speak English, I have a few questions. And you will answer them.’’ He pushes me to the wall and ties my hands up to a bar that stick out of the wall. My strength comes back, and I can fully see Bellamy.

‘’That’s never going to happen. You can do what you want with me.’’ I spit at him and glare.  

‘’How many of you are there?’’ He asks, not caring about my previous statement.

‘’For someone whose first language isn’t English, I think I made it pretty clear I’m not answering your questions, Bellamy.’’  

‘’So, you know who I am?’’ He smirks.  

‘’Don’t pride yourself.’’ I chuckle, dismissing him. I don’t tell him, but I know the names of all my enemies. Lincoln wants to be friends with these people, and keep it peaceful between our people, so I oblige.  

‘’Why does your brother keep a book with all of us in it, and cross them out when they die? Why did your people stab Finn?’’ He asks. I just lean back against the wall and look at him. I see him breath heavily, getting annoyed. ‘’Tell me!’’ I don’t even flinch when he shouts. He comes to me and raises his hand to slap me. He does, and I bite the inside of me cheek. I turn my head and spit out the blood from my mouth.  

‘’Torture is not the way to go, big-shot. Have you not seen my brother? We’re made to withstand this.’’ I say to him. He sighs in frustration knowing I’m right. People like him crumble under the first sign of torture. One of their own was captured and he told us everything in the first few days. He goes down the ladder and leave me to my thoughts.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, I wake up to someone opening the door and coming to where I am. I see Bellamy coming to me, along with the same guy that helped me up the ladder yesterday.  

‘’Morning, big-shot. What have you got for me today?’’ I smart talk to him.  

‘’He’s going to be watching you. I’m leaving for the day.’’ He says.  

‘’Thanks for letting me know your plans. I care so much.’’ I say in a fake voice and fake smile.

‘’Got a mouth on you. Bellamy let me show her the consequences.’’ The man says, he gets closer to me, but Bellamy sticks his arm out to stop him.

‘’Do not raise your hand.’’ He speaks to the man, then turns to me, ‘’Keep speaking that way and I’ll cut out your tongue.’’  

‘’Good luck with that.’’ I mumble under my breath. He says something to the other guy and leaves the room. I look at him, and see he is glaring at me. I don’t say anything to him, I just look everywhere, taking in my surroundings. A few minutes later, noise makes me open my eyes.

‘’Octavia, you know you aren’t supposed to be in here.’’ The man says when the door is opened, and Octavia pops up.  

‘’Relax. I just thought you might be hungry. It’s a peace offering, I was stupid. They aren’t worth it.’’ I silently scoff, knowing how much my brother admires her.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been almost a day since I’ve been in this room. My guard fell asleep, so I’ve just been sitting here, wondering how I can get out of this. The door opens again, and I look to it.  

‘’Octavia?’’ I ask. She has clothes in her hands and she runs to me.

‘’Come on. I’m getting you out of here.’’ She cuts the rope holding my wrists and helps me up.

‘’Where’s Lincoln?’’ I ask her.

‘’He’s downstairs. You need to hurry, we don’t have much time.’’ She helps me put on the jacket.  

‘’They’ll know I’m not one of you.’’

‘’They won’t. They’re all tripping. Let’s go.’’ She goes down the ladder, then I go next. I see Lincoln, leaning over in pain. I grab him lightly and hug him.

‘’We need to go.’’ He says. I nod. I go down the ladder first, so I can make sure he gets down okay. A few seconds goes by before he finally comes down. I wrap his arm around my shoulders for support. We run out of the shelter and stop when we run into one of the Sky People. He looks at us, and we keep our eyes on him before we sprint into the woods. I get Lincoln to his cave before I go back to the Sky camp, wanting to see how they react to us being gone.  

‘’Bellamy. The grounders are gone.’’

‘’Bellamy, what do we do?’’  

More people overlap each other in a terrified panic.  

‘’We don’t have to worry about it anymore.’’ Him and the blond from before drop a lot of black metal weapons. I’ve heard of those before, they’re guns. They are quicker and cause more damage than our bow and arrows. They are going to kill all of us, but not if I warn my people first.

[lowtldes]

your sharp and glorious thorn

rating: M (for game-typical violence)

ships: arthur morgan/original female character

chapter: 2/?

previous chapters: chapter one [tumblr] [ao3]

words: 6k

tags: slow burn, treasure hunting

warnings: game-typical violence

chapter summary: Arthur crosses paths with Iris sooner than he’d like.

also on ao3!

Arthur doesn’t like riding into Strawberry. It’s not that he’s nervous someone will recognize him from the time he broke Micah out of jail, it has more to do with the fact that he and Micah just about killed half the town.

No one is going to recognize him. No one is alive to recognize him. And it’s that that stirs guilt in his belly. He’s never been one to enjoy killing needlessly. Let alone half a town of innocent people.

Arthur lights a cigarette, pressing it between his lips to stop himself from gritting his teeth. No, Micah Bell has already ruined enough things for the gang, Arthur’s not going to let the mere thought of the man ruin his day now too.

STRAWBERRY. Arthur lets his eyes linger on the overhead sign as he takes a drag of his cigarette, passing through his exhaled smoke, looking as if a fog had parted for the tourist town to grace his vision.

He can probably stay the night here, before setting out again tomorrow. Watson’s Cabin, right up north in Big Valley. A tip worth looking into, especially since he was only a day’s ride out of Strawberry when he heard about it.

Back in Strawberry, barely two days since he beat that godawful old man and left his granddaughter with a bunch of dead bodies by the dam. He sighs. This robbery better be worth it, he’s spent far too much time away from camp, he’s gotta have something good to show for it when he gets back to Horseshoe Overlook.

“You… What the hell are you doing back here!”

Arthur tenses up. Hopefully they weren’t talking to him.

“Hey, hey, I’m talkin’ to you!”

Arthur sighs and stops his horse, Charon, right outside the hotel. The mayor’s reciting the same speech he hears every time he rides into town, it’s nothing but background noise now, just about as significant as the cigarette butt Arthur tosses into the dirt.

“Yeah, yeah, I heard ya,” Arthur grumbles and slides off his horse. He turns around, briefly looking for the source of the voice before he wrinkles his nose at the sight of the man.

It’s Jameson Cole, looking about as drunk as Uncle on his birthday. Whatever this man has to say to Arthur, it isn’t going to be any good. At least this isn’t going to be about that awful business with Micah.

“Mr. Cole,” Arthur greets coolly as the old man staggers towards him, bottle in hand. Jesus, the man hasn’t even crossed the road and Arthur can smell him from here. “I think it’s best you and I don’t talk.”

“You—y-you good fer nothin’ thief,” Cole hiccups when he’s close enough to Arthur, much to the dismay of Arthur’s sense of smell. “You kidnapper!”

“Excuse me?” Arthur says slowly, quietly, not keen on the attention the man’s words are drawing to the pair of them. The new Sheriff is an earshot away, dammit, Arthur doesn’t need those kinds of eyes on him right now. “I stole nothin’ you didn’t owe. If my memory serves right, it weren’t even you that paid. It was—”

“Iris! Oh, you bastard,” Cole wails, pausing to take another swig from his bottle. He jabs Arthur in the chest with his index finger. “You! You took ‘er! Stole her away and now I gotta beg on the street for a drink! Kidnapper!”

Folk are staring at them now. Women swiftly walking away from the scene, men eyeing Arthur suspiciously with their hands resting heavily on their guns.

Arthur’s spilled enough blood in Strawberry. He doesn’t want another fight on his hands, not here. He raises his hands in surrender, leaning back from old Jameson Cole and his whiskey stench. “You’re drunk, old man. Get out of here and stop makin’ a scene.”

Jameson Cole blinks blearily at Arthur, breaths coming out like wheezes. “You give her back. You give back Iris, oh, stupid little Iris, I’m afraid the house neeeeeds a cleaning! She ain’t been back since ya ran off with her!”

“I don’t have her, you old fool,” Arthur sneers, walking away from the man. “Maybe your granddaughter saw sense and ran far away from ya!”

Arthur shouldn’t care, the Coles are people he should be done with. If the world were in any way kind to him, he’d have never seen them again. But the knowledge that Miss Iris Cole didn’t return home after that whole mess with the treasure hunters doesn’t sit well with him.

Should’ve seen to it that she got home safe, he berates himself, you goddamn idiot, Morgan. What kind of man does that? Leave a woman out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by a bunch of dead bodies? This is why he loathes debt collection. Arthur’s already a bad man, he knows that, but collecting debts has always brought out a shade of himself he does not like any more than he likes his usual self.

Arthur sighs and mounts Charon again, muttering under his breath. “Don’t owe these people a goddamn thing. Ah, you fool, Morgan.”

He starts to ride out of Strawberry—so much for a night in the hotel—and takes the road leading in the direction of Owanjila.

“Hey, you!” Someone calls to him at the end of the main road—a young woman lugging a bucket full of fresh water. “Mister, I heard you talking to that awful old man.”

Arthur slows his horse, running a tired hand down his face. “Listen, Miss, I already told the man I don’t have his granddaughter—”

“But you’re heading out to look for her, right?” The woman presses, a bit of water sloshing out of the bucket. “That’s why you’re leaving town?”

“Yeah,” Arthur grunts, half shrugging. “I guess.”

“I work with Iris at the hotel,” the woman says, frowning softly, concerned. “She came to the hotel last night. Late last night, a strange look in her eyes. She told me Mr. Davis is dead and that she’s leaving.”

“Leaving? Where?”

“She didn’t say exactly,” the woman’s frown deepens. “I don’t think she quite knew where she was goin’ either. Just said. North. North of Big Valley. If you’re looking for her, you might want to start there.”

“Big Valley,” Arthur nods. The cabin he plans to rob is around there. Good. This won’t be a complete waste of his time. “Thank you, Miss.”

“Please find her, sir. She didn’t… she looked—she didn’t look quite right.”

Guilt stirs in the pit of his stomach. “I’ll get moving, then. Have a good afternoon, Miss.”

-

Iris ignores her rumbling stomach and walks along the road, treasure map clutched in one hand and Sammy's reigns in the other.

Her feet hurt. These old boots certainly weren’t made for walking, but she keeps on.

She knows where the treasure is. Or, at least, she'll know it when she sees it. There's no special instinct to treasure hunting, after all. Considering what Mr. Morgan did yesterday (or was it the day before?), it's as easy as sticking your arm into a hollow rock.

The treasure is by water, a shallow bed of water, according to the illustration on the map. And it's in Big Valley. That, she knows. Has to be. It's a gut feeling. Perhaps there is a special instinct.

Sammy lets out a whinny of protest, nodding his head and almost yanking the reigns out of Iris’s hand.

“I know,” Iris says. “I know, I know. But we're almost there, Sammy. We have to be. We ain’t riding back to Strawberry any time soon.”

Sammy huffs, sounding almost disapproving, but begins to follow again when Iris tugs on the reigns.

There’s that thundering sound again, her stomach groaning for food. Iris doesn’t have any food. She knows nothing of plant life, either. She only knows that eating the wrong plant can be a deadly thing. Better to be hungry for a day than to die by a plant.

The thundering sound continues, though her stomach has stopped its protests. The sound is distant, getting closer by the second. It's a rider, she realizes, the familiar galloping sound of a horse.

Iris stops and turns in the direction of the sound. Whoever it is, they’re heading straight towards her.

Oh. It’s the outlaw.

Iris clutches the map tight in her hand and stands close to Sammy, right next to the saddlebags. If he’s changed his mind and come back to rob her, she’s got one of the dead treasure hunter’s cattleman revolvers.

The memory of Mr. Morgan gunning down the treasure hunters is fresh on her mind again. He moves fast, Iris probably wouldn’t even be able to pull out her gun before he robs her. She’d at least like to try to get a few shots in, though.

He clicks his tongue and stops his horse when he’s close enough. His guns, notably, are in their respective holsters, not at all drawn and pointed at Iris when he dismounts his horse.

“Miss Cole,” he greets, hands resting on his gun belt. He’s exactly the same as when she first met him, lurking outside her homestead like a bad omen. Only this time, there’s no growl to his voice. There’s a roughness that’s still there, ever-present to the man’s voice, but this time around his greeting doesn’t sound like danger.

“Mr. Morgan,” she says back, voice feeble not with fear but with a tiredness. “You’ve… you’ve returned to rob me.”

Mr. Morgan tilts his head back, scrutinizing her from under the brim of his hat.

Iris is sure she looks as though some sort of fiendish wind has passed through. She hasn’t spared a moment to maintain a civilized appearance—her braid is all out of sorts from the wind and her fidgeting with it, her skirts are muddy from all the walking, her shoes are on the verge of falling to pieces, and she’s quite sure that her sore eyes are bloodshot, with darkened circles of exhaustion to complete the look.

Oh, she must look half-mad.

“No, ah,” the outlaw clears his throat awkwardly, scratching at his short beard. “No, I am not here to rob you.”

“Then what is this?” Iris frowns, hand tightening on Sammy’s reigns. “Have I stolen something of yours, then? Another debt that has to be paid?”

Mr. Morgan looks uncomfortable. “No.”

“Then why have you sought me out? I thought you’d have gone far, far away from Strawberry by now.”

“Well,” Mr. Morgan takes a step forward, cautious as though he might spook her. “The people in town said you haven’t been seen for a good while, and I didn’t like how I just left you in the middle of nowhere the other day, so I came out to… well, to check on ya.”

“Do you always check on your debtors after you’ve taken their money?”

He frowns. “Well, no. But—"

“Then why bother? You don’t have a to give me, or my granddaddy, or the entirety of Strawberry a second thought. A lapse of judgement is what you’re experiencing, Mr. Morgan. So allow me to direct you back to Strawberry, and we can go our separate ways.”

Mr. Morgan’s voice rises an octave, indignance lacing his voice. “Direct me back to Str—”

“To Strawberry, yes.” Iris lets go of Sammy’s reigns and crosses the short distance between them. She rests her hand lightly on Mr. Morgan’s arm and nudges him to turn around, pointing somewhere off behind him with the map clutched tight in her hand. “You can get to Strawberry simply by going back the direction you came from.”

Mr. Morgan resists at first, then obliges her light shoving and turns. “I know that, Miss Cole. You might think me a fool, but I’m at least a fool who knows where he’s going—is that a treasure map?”

“It is.” Iris swiftly retracts herself from his space and starts walking away, her sore feet screaming with each step. “And it’s close.”

“Is that what you’ve been doing this whole time? People are worried about ya, Miss Cole.”

“I’m sure the only person breaking a sweat is Gramps, since I’m not there to clean up after him.”

“Well, what about your job?” Mr. Morgan says, following hastily after her. “Ain’t the hotel manager wondering where you are?”

“The hotel manager is dead,” Iris reminds him, halting to glare at a spot in the distance. Little Creek River. “Those treasure hunters shot Mr. Davis in the head.”

“Shit. Well… well someone else must’ve stepped up in the hotel,” Mr. Morgan says slowly, trying to salvage whatever’s left of his persuasion attempt. “There’s gotta be somethin’ in town that you gotta get back to. You can’t just wander around forever.”

Iris briskly spins around to glare at him. Mr. Morgan’s standing close enough that her long dark braid whips across his chest at the motion. “My boss at the hotel is dead. My job is most likely up in the air at the moment, and this is a moment I’d like to take to reflect on how I’ve been living my life.”

Mr. Morgan presses his lips together. “But you got—”

“I have nothing in that town, in that life, except for my leech of a granddaddy!” Iris looks at the worn map in her hands and sighs. “I don’t know if I want to go back to Strawberry, Mr. Morgan. I feel as though I’ve been going through my life like a phantom, and I need to start going through it like a person. With… with some kind of ambition. Something to look forward to.”

“Those are some dangerous thoughts, Miss Cole.”

“Are they?” Iris sighs again. “Twenty-seven years wasted in Strawberry. Did you know I’ve never set foot outside of West Elizabeth? Let alone Big Valley? I’ve got nothing to show for my life.”

“You don’t…” Mr. Morgan scowls. “You don’t have to show anyone anything.”

“I want to show myself something,” Iris says firmly, steeling his gaze. He often hides underneath his hat, she’s noticed, and being close enough now to peek under the brim and catch his blue-green eyes feels like she’s discovered something hidden once again. “I don’t know what I plan to do with my life after this, but for now, all I know is that I want to find this treasure. I want to show myself that I can find it.”

“And where is this treasure, huh?” Mr. Morgan scoffs. “No need to get all protective. I ain’t gonna take it from ya. I just… you—you look like hell, Miss Cole.”

Iris feels her face heat up. She scowls and walks away from him again, towards the soft sounds of trickling water. “I’m going to get this treasure, with or without your bothering.”

She hears Mr. Morgan mutter something under his breath, but he keeps following her. Risking a glance back, she sees that their horses are following after them slowly.

Little Creek River looks shallow enough that the water would barely come up to her ankles. Iris does her best to ignore Mr. Morgan’s lingering, glaring hard at the map while she hears him light a cigarette.

This looks like the spot. The way the illustration’s lines are darker around this particular bend looks precisely the same as the area in front of her. Iris’ eyes flit back and forth between the map and the riverbend before her. The X looks to be about ten feet away, buried right in the bed of the creek.

“How do you know that this is the river in the map?” Mr. Morgan’s voice grates over her thinking. He stands by their horses, cigarette between his fingers and a curious look on his face.

“I like riding around the valley when I get the time,” Iris answers, folding up the map and walking towards the treasure spot, the soil wet beneath her boots. “Not as often as I’d like, but… I admire the landscapes long enough to guess right about which stone goes where.”

“Well, you found that treasure last time. I can’t argue with that.” He snuffs the cigarette and looks around. “Damn. It’s gonna be dark any minute now.”

“Scared of the dark, Mr. Morgan?”

“Nah. Just don’t wanna die like an idiot, is all.” He walks to where she’s standing in the creek, brows raised as she kicks around the silt. “The wildlife around ain’t something to underestimate. Especially in the dark.”

Iris glances at him before sticking her hands into the cold, cold water to dig. “Could we camp, perhaps?”

“We?”

“I’m assuming you’re not going to leave me alone until we get back to Strawberry.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Mr. Morgan sighs. “Just… get a move on with that, will ya? Sun’s already coming down, and I’d rather find somewhere with four walls and a roof.”

Iris snorts, extracting her hands from the silt and opting to dig into the spot beside her previous attempt. “I suppose that’s better than a tent. But I doubt the folk living up in these parts would be hospitable.”

“There’s a cabin a heard about. I was plannin’ to camp there for a night or two to scope out another place nearby. Vetter’s Echo, I think it was called. Heard the owner hasn’t been seen for a long time. Whoever they are, they’re likely long gone, I’m positive they won’t mind if we use their place as shelter.”

“What were you planning to head up here for, if not to find me for whatever’s nagging at your conscience?” Iris says, then snorts. “An outlaw with a conscience, how ironic.”

Mr. Morgan makes a noncommittal sound. “It’s none of your business. Anyway, the cabin should just be up the ways from here. There’s likely some provisions there, which we need, because you’re lookin’ mighty peckish.”

“Were you planning a robbery?”

“None of your goddamn business, Miss Cole. You don’t need to get involved with that,” Mr. Morgan says firmly, all but confirming her suspicions.

Iris quietly wonders if she does want to get involved with that. She digs deeper into the silt, dirt getting caught beneath her fingernails. What does she plan to do after all of this? She can’t go back to monotonous life in Strawberry. She refuses.

Her nails scrape against something solid in the dirt. Iris jumps at the contact. “Oh! I’ve found it!”

Whatever it is, it’s smaller than a buried treasure chest from pirate stories. Definitely not shaped like any container Iris has seen before. Her fingers find some part to grip and curl around it, pulling it out of the riverbed. The top of it emerges from the silt as she pulls it up, smooth and bone white under the water.

Iris manages to pull the treasure up halfway before she recoils with a shriek, falling backward into the creek and soaking up even more of her skirts.

Mr. Morgan is next to her in a second, boots splashing in the shallow water and hands hovering cautiously over her. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Iris doesn’t answer, just stares wide-eyed at the human skull still stuck in the silt. The human skull she dug up with her bare hands. Her skin crawls.

Mr. Morgan eyes follow to where she’s looking. He breathes an astounded, eloquent, “Jesus.”

“I… I touched it. Him. Her. Whoever they were,” Iris whispers, distraught. “I…”

“Well,” Mr. Morgan mutters, wading over to the skull. “Looks like you found your treasure.”

Mr. Morgan pulls the skull out of the silt and water, standing to his full height. Something about seeing him—someone else—taking her findings in their hands kicks Iris back into motion. Splashing a bit in the creek, Iris scrambles to a stand and snatches the skull right out of the outlaw’s hands.

“Thought you were frightened of it,” he says, shrugging and raising his hands in surrender.

Maybe at first.

“I was just surprised,” Iris says, narrowing her eyes at the small grin on his face. She turns her attention back to the skull. “Whoever this dead fella was… he can’t hurt me. Why should I be scared?”

“It’s not every day you dig up a dead head with your bare hands,” Mr. Morgan offers, perhaps attempting to console her. “Surprise and, uh, fear—it’s reasonable.”

Iris doesn’t answer him, but she frowns anyway, looking down at the skull so maybe Mr. Morgan doesn’t see her flushed face.

It’s already dark, the sun had fully set while she was digging, but Iris sees something in the skull’s hollowed eye catch briefly under the starlight. The smallest of shines.

“Miss Cole,” Mr. Morgan says, standing much closer now to look at the skull over her shoulder. His clothes smell like cigarette smoke. “I think you’re gonna have to—”

“Yes,” Iris cuts his sentence off swiftly, quietly. She swallows hard. “Yes, I see.”

“Would you like me to do it? It’ll still be your treasure, even if you let me.”

“I can do it. I will do it.”

Iris readjusts the skull in her hands, turning it upside down. She keeps a firm grip on the jaw, fingers sliding into the small, stiff opening of the mouth. With her other hand, she hooks her fingers into both eye holes, grimacing.

Sorry, she thinks. Then she pulls her hands apart with a sharp tug.

There’s a crunch as the jawbone snaps clean off, Mr. Morgan standing so close that with the force of her tug she accidentally elbows him when the piece comes loose. He lets out a small, winded oof as her elbow collides with his gut.

“Oh, sorry,” Iris says quietly, out of polite instinct. She’s not really paying attention, instead gazing into the hollow of the opened skull.

“No harm done,” he mutters.

There’s still quite a bit of bone in the way, but Iris turns the skull back right side up and shakes its contents into her palm. Several gold coins fall out, along with two more gold nuggets, and a small scrap of paper.

“You’re telling me that all this was buried not even a foot into the ground, for any fool to find?” Mr. Morgan huffs. “I should give up robberies n’ just start digging.”

“Any fool with a map,” Iris corrects, staring at the gold bunched in her hand with wide, wide eyes.

“And you knew exactly where it was again,” Mr. Morgan muses, stepping back and adjusting his hat. “Think you got a knack for this, Miss Cole.”

“I do, don’t I?” Iris looks down at herself, holding the treasures tight in her hand and the skull in the other. No bag, no pockets. She looks back up, past Mr. Morgan’s impressed expression and instead squints at the horses grazing several feet behind him. “Sammy! Sammy over here!”

Sammy finds the grass more interesting than the gold Iris is holding. Typical, that horse never listens to anyone.

“I’ll get him,” Mr. Morgan says, waving a hand as he walks away from her. He takes Sammy’s reigns and starts leading the horse towards where Iris stands by the creek, and whistles for his own dark horse to follow. “Charon! Follow me, boy.”

“Charon?” Iris asks when he’s back within earshot. “How dramatic of you.”

“Thought it’d fit him well,” the outlaw smiles fondly, tugging Sammy’s reigns. “I stole him at this show just outside of Valentine. There was a man on the stage, no arms and no legs, telling old Greek tales.”

“And you stole his horse?” Iris asks, clutching the skull and gold close to her chest.

“Nah,” he shakes his head. “Some bastard thought it’d be funny to throw things at the storyteller. He had a fine horse. That’s Charon right here,” he jerks his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to his horse following him. “This here’s a dark bay Andalusian—a war horse. Thought it’d be nice to name him after that half-horse half-man the limbless man spoke of. The one who trained heroes.”

Iris frowns. She’s not the most educated person. Not educated like those city folks who stay at the hotel, but she has read some books, especially the ones educated city folk accidentally leave behind. A book about old myths from far away lands kept her up for weeks.

“Forgive me, Mr. Morgan, but I think you’re confused.”

He stops Sammy right in front of her and lets go of the reigns. “Confused?”

“The half-horse half-man you’re thinking of is Chiron. An easy mistake, I suppose, since the names are quite similar.”

Mr. Morgan stops and stares at her in disbelief. Perhaps he’s expecting her to laugh and joke, but she’s quite sure that Charon is not the figure he’s thinking of.

“Goddammit,” he exhales, voice rising an octave. He shakes his head, hiding beneath the brim of his hat. Iris wonders if he’s blushing. “So you’re tellin’ me I’ve been calling my horse some nonsense this whole time?”

“Not quite nonsense, no.” Iris walks over to Sammy’s saddlebag. “If I recall, Charon served as a ferryman to bring souls to Hades.”

Mr. Morgan hums, squinting at his horse as if to see if the story sticks.

Iris tries to fit the treasures in the small saddlebag, but the gun she picked off the dead treasure hunter is in the way. “If you keep the name, your horse is now death’s ferryman. Do you… do you see yourself as death, Mr. Morgan? Or I suppose the name could extend to you, making your horse the vessel and you the actual ferryman.”

“Well…” Mr. Morgan rests his hands on his gun belt, clearing his throat awkwardly. “I have killed some people… quite a lot of people. But it was them or me. Ah, I shouldn’t be saying these things to a lady.”

Before Iris can respond, she grabs the gun in the saddlebag the wrong way. Intending to extract it from the bag to make room, she accidentally hits the trigger and a shot fires a hole out of the bottom of the bag.

“Oh!” Iris startles back, ears ringing from the closeness of the gunshot. Sammy whinnies and rocks his head back and forth in a panic. Charon, on the other hand, doesn’t flinch at the sound.

“Jesus!” Mr. Morgan yells, hand instinctively falling to one of the revolvers holstered on his belt. “What the hell was that?”

“I… the gun—shit, I blew a hole through the saddlebag!”

“Why is there a gun in the saddlebag?”

“I took it from one of those treasure hunters you killed!” Iris snaps back at him. “What’s the problem with keeping it in on my horse, anyway? You got an entire armory on your war horse, Mister.”

Mr. Morgan sighs and runs a hand down his face. “Jesus.”

“Oh, this damn bag is ruined.” The saddlebag is useless now. The hole at the bottom is big enough for any of the treasures to fall out.

Mr. Morgan motions for her to come closer. “Alright, give the gold to me. I can put it in my satchel for the time being.”

“No!” Iris scowls, holding the treasures close. “Do you take me for some kind of idiot?”

“You’re an idiot if you think it’ll be a good idea to walk back into Strawberry holding that gold out for everyone to see.”

“How do I know you won’t just run away the moment I hand the gold over to you?”

Mr. Morgan places his hand on his chest, eyes serious. “I give ya my word that I won’t, Miss. I just wanna see you home safe.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Iris says. “You’ve made it clear several times that you rob people for a living.”

Something moves in Sammy’s saddlebag. A slow, sliding movement before it falls right out of the hole and lands on the grass with a thump. Her first gold nugget from the last treasure.

“Miss Cole, your treasure’s as good as gone if you try carrying it in that bag. I promise I won’t steal from you.”

Iris narrows her eyes at him, trying to look as threatening as she can, but the threat is lost the moment her hungry stomach rumbles as loud as thunder in the sky. Mr. Morgan’s lips quirk, the damned outlaw is trying not to laugh.

“Alright. Fine,” Iris frowns, stepping towards him. “Put it in your bag.”

Mr. Morgan flashes her a small, tight smile and moves for his satchel, opening it up for her to dump her gold into.

“You’re not keeping that skull, are ya?”

“I thought it could be a souvenir. A trophy for my findings.”

“I’m not carrying a dead fella in my satchel.”

“Oh, alright,” Iris says, slightly dejected. She turns around and tosses the skull back into the creek.

“Poor bastard,” Mr. Morgan says, watching the skull splash into the water. He picks up the last gold nugget from the ground and turns to his horse. “Come on, I’m sure there’ll be some food for you at Vetter’s Echo.”

-

The cabin is one of the smallest Iris has ever seen, and the moment she and Mr. Morgan hitch their horses a bad feeling settles in the pit of her stomach.

“Keep that gun with ya,” Mr. Morgan says. “We might find a holster for that in here. That means no more shooting holes through bags.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Iris asks, following him up the path. “What if someone is still living there? What if they don’t want us around?”

In the dark, the cabin looks eerie. What if whoever’s inside has gone mad from the isolation? What if they try to attack Mr. Morgan? Or if they try to attack her?

Iris tightens her hold on the treasure hunter’s revolver—her revolver. I’m a treasure hunter now too, I suppose.

“Then we rob whoever’s living in here,” Mr. Morgan shrugs, answering as if the answer was the simplest thing in the world. “Just enough to be on our way, we won’t let ‘em starve.”

“I saw camp supplies on your horse,” Iris suggests, casting a glance back at Charon in the trees. “Why couldn’t we just camp?”

“A fire and a tent ain’t gonna protect us if someone or some animal gets the wrong idea about approaching us,” Mr. Morgan answers gruffly. “Now if I was on my own, maybe I would’ve. But I think you’d be better indoors. Less chance for predators.”

Iris stops on the steps up to the cabin while Mr. Morgan quietly turns the doorknob. He grimaces when the door swings open with a rather loud creak, then takes a cautious step inside. Iris begins to follow him inside, but freezes when she hears a loud, loud rumble of breath.

“Shit,” is all she hears from Mr. Morgan inside before the roar of some kind of behemoth shakes the cabin.

There’s a shout from Mr. Morgan, and Iris makes it to the door to see a bear on top of him, roaring and clawing at him. The back of the cabin looks like it’s been torn open long ago, and judging by the old corpse on the floor next to Mr. Morgan, this bear has been the only occupant of the cabin for quite some time.

Iris screams, unsure what to do as Mr. Morgan gets mauled, fear freezing the blood in her veins. She’s never seen a bear up close, and her mind can’t fathom just how big a bear is. The walls of the cabin are practically hugging the creature.

Mr. Morgan cries out again, drawing a knife and slashing at the beast, and it’s only then that Iris registers that she’s here and that she can do something. Something, maybe, with the gun in her hands.

“What in high hell!” Someone screams, voice full of terror. Oh, it’s coming from her, she’s the one doing the screaming.

Mr. Morgan just barely dodges a swipe of the bear’s teeth before Iris finally kicks into motion, drawing her revolver and unloading every bullet left.

Which is about three bullets.

The bear roars as the bullets embed themselves into its hide, but it doesn’t seem to be too injured. Instead, it is still very intent on making Mr. Morgan its next meal. She watches Mr. Morgan continue his struggle, there’s a blur of the bear’s paws and suddenly a bleeding scratch on his arm.

Then she sees an old shotgun, lying on the ground between Mr. Morgan and the old corpse.

Iris has never fired a shotgun before.

She darts down for it, not really having to avoid the bear as it doesn’t even seem to be aware of her existence, and checks to see if the shotgun is loaded. Iris steps back into the doorframe and takes aim, this time being sure to not fire blindly and instead target the bear’s face.

In the heat of the moment, Iris forgets that some guns, powerful guns, not only pack a punch to whoever’s being shot, but also to whoever’s doing the shooting if they’re not prepared for it. Iris pulls the trigger, the blast of the gun deafening, and she sees the shot go right for the bear’s face before the recoil violently flings her back.

Iris hits the railing hard, promptly tumbling backward over it with a scream and free-falling several feet before she hits the ground.

She lies on the lumpy ground, flat on her back and blinking stars. Distantly, she still hears the bear’s growling, but now she hears Mr. Morgan’s ragged voice as well, calling out for her.

“Miss Cole! Goddammit! Miss Cole, you alive?”

Iris’ vision clears, and oh, the bear has left the cabin, breaking through the railing and heading straight for her. Its face is bloody, very bloody. Did I do that?

Oh, the bear looks very angry with her. Absolutely livid.

“Oh no,” she mumbles, disoriented, voice failing her as she starts backing away in the dirt. “Oh, please no.”

“Hey!” Mr. Morgan calls out, a desperate note to his rough voice. “Hey, you big bastard!”

The bear rises to its hind legs, towering over Iris and roaring. A shot rings out, and both the bear and Iris look back at the cabin to see Mr. Morgan standing by the broken rails, his hat gone to reveal a mop of short brown hair, pointing two revolvers at the bear with a furious look on his face.

Mr. Morgan fires both guns at the bear���s face. In that second, it’s as if there’s no end to the bullets. The speed of it takes Iris right back to when he gunned down those two treasure hunters before they could even blink.

The bear lets out one last groan before it collapses onto the ground, its big, bloody head landing right in front of Iris.

Mr. Morgan holsters his guns and starts walking over to her and the bear. “Did it get ya?”

Iris doesn’t directly answer. She only leans back to lie flat on the grass again, a twig poking into her head as she looks up at the night sky. “Oh my goodness.”

“I was not expecting that,” Mr. Morgan murmurs, kicking the bear’s paw as he inspects the corpse. “Thank you, by the way.”

Iris sits up, willing her heart to stop its panicked racing. “For what?”

“Shootin’ the damn thing. Saved my life.”

“Well, you killed it. I s’pose I should thank you for saving my life as well.”

“Nah,” he says, smoothing back his hair. “Makes us even, I guess.”

He then draws a knife, bends down, and begins cutting away into the bear.

“What… what are you doing, Mr. Morgan?”

“Arthur,” he says.

“Pardon?”

“Just call me Arthur.”

“Okay… Arthur. Well, then you can just call me Iris. I suppose there’s no need for formalities if you’ve fought a bear together.”

Mr. Morgan—Arthur—huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“I think camping might be safer, Arthur.”

“Yeah. That ain’t no four walls and a roof up there anyway.”

“Three walls and a dead man.”

Arthur snorts and tears at the bear’s skin. “Better him than us, Miss—uh, Iris.”

Iris plucks a leaf out of her hair. “Better him than us.”

[digitalnoms]

The hunger of Digivalution

Cybersleuth au

Chris didn’t quite know how they ended up in this situation, stuck behind a firewall in an area filled with hackers and a program forcibly downloaded to their device that made them a hacker too, their 4’9 shaking as they freak out, they knew the only way they would get out of Kowloon is if they went forward, going forward risked encountering hostile hackers, but staying where they were also had a chance of encountering said hackers, Maybe they shouldn’t have taken that invitation they were given but they had no choice now, they had to get out of here so they took a deep breath and started following the path.

In another part of Kowloon an Impmon had appeared, he knew how he got here but felt like he was supposed to be bigger than the 3ft he was, he had a purpose for coming here but he just couldn’t seem to remember anything except where he came from and what he is now, for now he decided to sneak around while he tried to gather information on where he was and remember why he came here. Then he smelt something sweet, he became curious to where the scent was coming from and followed it.

The sweet smell had led him to find a nervous human who looked like they were about to jump out of their skin as they wandered about, they hadn’t noticed him yet, so he hit in the shadows and used the opportunity to have some fun by spooking them, he follow them around and would chuck a fireball near them when they would stop to check the area around them making the human jump and yelp making Impmon snicker.

Then another foul-smelling human appeared, when sweet smelling one and started talking about handing over an account and threatening the sweet smelling one Impmon had start to like with the way they reacted to having fireballs tossed at them, so Impmon tossed a fireball at him and set the seat of his pants on fire and snickered as the foul ones started trying to put himself out, the sweet one took the a chance while the foul one was distracted to try and leave, the foul one noticed though had the koromon he had following him go after the human in an attempt to draw his attacker out.

Chris was frightened, before someone kept sending fire balls at them that would startle them and make them shriek, they weren’t actually hurt by that though it just made them jump and as long as whoever was doing that wasn’t actually trying to hit them, Chris really didn’t feel the need to complain, but now there was a hacker threatening them and they had no idea what to do.

Luckily whoever it was startling them before decided this hacker was a better target and set his butt on fire, while he was jumping about trying to smother the flame Chris tried to run, he noticed though and sent that creature that was following him after them and Chris was cornered once again, the hacker told it to attack and as it was about to attack them a purple creature came out of nowhere and kicked it into a wall knocking it unconscious.

The hacker looked very nervous when the purple creature suddenly had a fireball floating over its fingertip and was aiming at him, the hacker grabbed the unconscious creature and dashed away, The purple creature scoffed then yelled after him “Yeah, you better run you wimp!”

Impmon dusted his hand off and smirked, it felt good to win. He was about to leave when he heard something behind him, it was then he remembered the human he had just rescued, “um, I uh, thank you for saving me.” the human said Impmon scoffed and looked to the side “wasn’t that much of a threat.” the human came closer to him “maybe not to you but they really could have hurt me. So, thank you, you were so cool.” Impmon started to feel a bit flustered he might not remember anything, but he feels like no one had ever complemented him before, maybe he could hang around this human for a while, it probably wouldn’t hurt he thought they smell nice too so that would be a bonus. Then he turned to them acting cocky “you obviously can’t handle yourself here so I might as hang around to help you.”

Chris smiled at the creature that saved them, “thank you.”  they honestly meant it they were extremely grateful this creature had come to help, despite the fact Chris was quite sure it had been to one messing with them earlier, “i have some questions though, what are you and what was that creature the hacker tried to attack me with?” The purple creature looked a little stunned for a second but shook it off and replied “Digimon, the one was that was attacking you was a wimpy in-training called koromon, while I,” the purple creature takes a proud stance “am a powerful Rookie called Impmon”  

“it’s nice to meet you Impmon, my name is Chris.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Timeskip~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been three months since Impmon and Chris had met and he is no longer an Impmon, now as an impressive 12ft tall Skullmeramon he towers over his tamer and most of the other digimon on their team, when they travel together, he lets his tamer perch on his shoulder and his temperament and affinity for fire has caused his tamer to give him the nicknames Sparks but for some reason they had found him unable to Digivolve any further while the other digimon on their team have already devolved to mega he seemed to be stuck as an ultimate.

For the past few days Sparks has felt an intense hunger that never seemed to be satisfied by the increasing amount of food he ate or the amount of battles he fought, his tamer seemed to have noticed and confronted him Chris had asked him in a worried tone if he was doing okay, why he was eating so much now, and he had paused in his feast to answer them

“I don’t know, I just started feeling hungrier and hungrier and it doesn’t seem like it’s going to stop.” Sparks said, Chris crossed their arms and place a hand on their chin in deep thought “maybe you’re getting closer to being able to digivolve to mega, I remember that Striker got extremely hungry before he digivolved from Cyberdramon to Justimon.” Sparks chuckles “he whined about it too and now he runs around and dramatically poses in the wind. You might be onto something there, Chris.”

The Skullmeramon couldn’t help but notice his tamer’s scent and his stomach growled loudly. Chris jumped at the sudden rumble it’s volume as loud as thunder then laughs. “I better let you get back to your meal before your stomach eats itself.” then Chris leaves back to human world, Sparks notices that as their scent disappears his hunger lessens and wonders if eating them would stop the hunger, but he wouldn’t want to hurt them, he knows they put up with his sometimes-sadistic behavior and he feels conflicted about it but Sparks realizes he might not be able to control those predator instincts much longer, all he can really do it try and make sure he doesn’t physically harm Chris when he loses control. Perhaps if he digivolves he might even recall why he came here, he feels as if he can almost remember.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Timeskip~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few days later the Skullmeramon and his tamer are caught up in a battle with a Metalseadramon it’s River of Power attack blasting him backwards, his tamer shouting encouragement, even though he’s worse for wear they still believe he can win, and when his opponent means to take aim at the small human Sparks feels something click “Skullmeramon digivolve to Beelzemon!!”

He nearly doubles in size and at an intimidating 26ft all it takes is a single shot from one of his Berenjena to take the Mega down, Chris steps back in awe of his size and all they can say is “whoa.” which causes the towering digimon to look down at them and Chris doesn’t see any recognition in his eyes, only hunger as the demon lord digimon scoops them up in his hand and they feel the metal tips of his clawed gloves brush the top of their shoulders as his fingers curl forcing them to be seated on the edge of his palm their legs dangling near his wrist and a sense of dread overcomes them.

He and his tamer stare at each other for a second before a sharp wicked grin spreads on his face and Chris asks in a shaky voice “Sparks?” he doen’t respond, instead he raises them a bit higher, opens his mouth wide and he tips his hand slipping their legs into his mouth then swallows dragging them further in as they start to panic feeling their legs gripped tight in his throat.  

He ignores their fright, grips them a bit more firmly before tilting his head back and swallowing again drawing them the rest of the way into his maw and snapping it shut around them, he grins again feeling Chris tries futilely to push themselves back up their alarmed “Nonononono.” does nothing to sway him as their palms are slipping unable to get a grip and with a loud gulp, he sends them downwards as they panic and shout “Please don’t!”

They struggle as they are dragged downward, the muscles squeezing around their form and they let out a whine, hearing a thudding heart beat and powerful lungs as the Beelzemon breathes pass them as they slip deeper down. He licks his lips savoring his tamers movement and flavor as the thought goes through his head that he was right, they do taste as good as they smell.

After what feels like hours of being pulled by hot slick muscles, they finally drop into his stomach, Beelzemon lets out a pleased sigh as they start to beat against his stomach walls, “Sparks!” they shout and this time he responds his voice booming around them, “My name is Beelzemon.” he presses his hand against the bulge that’s the only sign of where the tamer went, squishing them against the flesh walls that surround them “And you’re not going anywhere anytime soon.” He explains that digivolving into mega unlocked his memories.

That he came here to snub the royal knights and their plans but lost his memories and reverted to rookie form in the process, then a little while after he digivolved to Skullmeramon his hunger reawakened and things started to come back little by little, his tamer confused and worried about the situation they are in asks him a single question “but why did you eat me?” Beelzemon bursts out laughing and the tamer is rocked off their feet, their back hitting the stomach floor with a wet splat.

“Why did I eat you? The scent you give off is too hard to resist, it’s what drew me to you in the first place.” his tamer responds their voice breaking “so our bond was nothing then? You were just waiting till you didn’t need me anymore to eat me, right?” Beelzemon’s grin drops from his face realizing what he has said has hurt his tamer “No, I...I grew attached, I like you too much for you to be just another meal for me. Wouldn’t want to hurt you like that.” he feels his tamer shift. “then that means I'm safe?” the ask timidly.

Beelzemon nods before realizing they wouldn't be able to see that and replied “yeah, you’ll be fine. Still not letting you out for a while though.” His tamer relaxes “You’re an asshole sometimes Beelzemon.”  He chuckles “sure am, but you knew that when you met me.”  

Chris still a bit wary asks “what are they royal knights planning anyway?” Beelzemon scoffs “not anything I’d let them do to you.” his tamer jerks “what is that supposed to mean?” He grins as he replies knowing he is succeeding in working his tamer up again “nothing you need to worry about.” they start struggling again yelling at him to stop being vague and tell them what he meant as he sits down leaning against the wall of the area they are in, too deep for anyone to find them and falls asleep with his hand still over his stomach.

[softboywriting]

Safe and Sound | Part 11| Werewolf Shawn AU

Summary: What Shawn finds out after he puts you to bed and heads downstairs to see who has returned to the house after the wendigo fight.

Blog Tag for This Fic

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part 7.5  | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part 10.5

| Masterlist |

The sound of a fist pounding on Shawn’s door snaps you out of a deep sleep. You roll over in bed and find Shawn’s gone. The alarm clock says it’s well after 9am which meant Shawn was probably out with Geoff and Brian on a parameter check. It had been three days since the wendigo was killed but now a ‘pack’ of alphas was posing a whole new threat to your pack. Yeah. Your pack. The thought made you smile, you were finally starting to feel like you belonged here.

The knocking comes again and you’re snapped out of thoughts of Shawn and the pack. “Hello?” you call out, groaning as you turn over and your back aches. It was healing well, no signs of infection.

“Oh my god you are in there!” Zack shouts through the door.

You jump out of bed, ignoring your back and hurry to the door. You turn the handle and pull it open, momentarily deafening yourself when it makes a loud scraping noise against the floor.  Zack is standing there in his sleep shorts and a tee on. He looks livid.

“When did you get back?”

“Last night. Sam called me a couple days ago and said I needed to come home. I got in late last night and I assumed you were in your room because the door was shut.” Zack runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head. “I checked this morning and you weren’t there so I asked Jackie and she told me to check Shawn’s room.”

“Zack. I know you’re pissed, your face is red and you look like you’re ready to choke someone. But Shawn and I just got together recently, it wasn’t behind your back, I just hadn’t said anything yet. We’re still working out what we are,” you explain calmly.

“You’re my baby sister, my alpha is fucking my baby sister!” Zack cries. He starts to pace, hand in his hair as he tries to process this idea. “How am I supposed to deal with that?”

You cross your arms and glare at him. “First of all, we haven’t fucked. Just for your information. As for how you’re supposed to ‘deal’ with it, I don’t know. Be an adult? You’re almost twenty five Zack, guess what, I’m going to date guys. Sorry this one happens to be your alpha.”

“But why Shawn?! Why not some other guy? I mean I know Shawn is a good guy but like...I gotta live here!”

“Zack, come on,” you roll your eyes. He was overreacting big time. “It’s not like your room is near his. Even if something did happen between us, you’re not going to hear it. Do you hear Sam and Matt all the time?”

Zack stops his pacing and just stares at you. You know you’re right. It was an unspoken rule that if anyone was having sex they had to keep it at a minimum if everyone was home. “That’s not the point,” he grumbles. “The point is I don’t like you being with one of the pack. What if it doesn’t work out? Then I gotta deal with awkwardness as your brother even if you moved out.”

“Somehow I don’t think we’re going to have to worry about it not working out. I think-” you turn and look at Shawn as he jogs up the stairs and stands there staring at the two of you. Tension is thick as no one speaks. Shawn looks from you to Zack and back to you. Zack keeps his eyes locked on the alpha before him.

Shawn walks casually up to you and puts his arm around your shoulders. He pulls you close and kisses the top of your head. “Morning,” he whispers before turning his attention to Zack. “You’re home, good, has anyone told you what’s going on?”

“With the two of you or?” Zack asks, knowing clearly that Shawn meant the alpha pack.

Shawn’s eyes narrow and he sets his jaw. “It’s none of your business what your sister and I have going on. You’d do good to remember that.”

Zack looks away, knowing if he pressed the matter any farther he would be challenging Shawn. “Jackie told me this morning that there are some alphas lurking farther out in the woods. That’s why you called me back home right?”

“That’s exactly why. We need to keep everyone safe. Did she tell you Matt was still missing?” Shawn asks and Zack nods. “Sam and Geoff go out every day to try and find him but they’ve lost his scent in the rain from the other night.”

“I have an idea where he might be. There’s a place we used to go for a break on long runs when we were teenagers. It’s not far from the river, I’ll go with Geoff and check if you want.”

Shawn nods. “Go. We need to know if he’s hurt or if he’s been taken by the alphas.”

Zack gives you one last look, eyes flicking to Shawn for just a moment before he nods and goes down the hall to put on some warmer clothes to go out with Geoff in.

Shawn turns his attention to you and cups your cheeks in his hands. “Did you sleep okay? I was hoping I’d be back before you woke up.” He kisses your forehead and you lay your hands on his chest. “Did Zack say anything about us?”

“Don’t worry about it. He’ll get used to us.” You curl your hands into Shawn’s tee and walk backwards into the room, pulling him along with you. Shawn follows your lead, kicking the door closed as you lead him to the bed.

“What’re you doing pup?” he asks with a sly grin on his face. You know what he’s thinking about and you smile back, but not for the same reason he’s grinning. “Don’t tease me. Don’t you know you shouldn’t tease wolves.”

“Oh? Why not?” you giggle, looking up at him as your legs hit the edge of the bed.

Shawn bows his head and kisses along your neck, dragging his teeth along your shoulder. “Because we’re vicious, hungry, dangerous animals.”

You shiver as his fingers dig into your hips and his kisses become bites. “Those things may be true, but you’re also fiercely loyal and you wouldn’t dare do anything without your partners permission.”

“Damn you,” he growls, moving away from your neck to lean his forehead on yours. “When will you let me touch you?”

“In time,” you murmur softly as you lean your head up a bit to kiss him. “Now go shower, you smell sweaty,” you giggle and push his chest so he steps back.

“Nah, I think I’ll rub my sweat all over you,” Shawn laughs as he wraps his arms around you, careful of your back, and holds you against him in a hug.

“SHAWN! NO!” you squeal and try to get away but he’s got you in a vice grip. “Stop! Shawn you’re gross!”

Shawn cackles and rubs his head against your shoulder. “Nope, no I can’t stop until you smell like me,” he says as he licks up the side of your neck, leaving a wet trail and then backing away from you.

“I’m going to murder you,” you growl, wiping at your neck with your hand. He really laid it on you good. “Shawn!” you scream as he turns, throwing open the bedroom door and hightailing it to the bathroom to shower. Zack passes the bedroom and stops to look at you for a second before moving on to go find Geoff. For just a moment, a fraction of a second, you feel guilty for being with Shawn. Then it’s gone.

You shake your head, looking around the room for the basket of clothes you had brought in yesterday that had a mix of yours and Shawn’s clean clothes in it. Upon finding it and digging out a pair of pants, a shirt and a clean pair of underwear, you head for the bathroom. Two knocks and you hear Shawn yell, “Who is it?”

“It’s me, the girl who smells like alpha sweat!” you laugh.

“How can I help you smelly girl?” Shawn asks, the smile in his voice not going unnoticed.

“I’d like to get unsmelly! Can I come in?”

You hear the shower curtain rings scrape against the bar just before the door opens and Shawn’s head appears, wet curls slicked back and water dripping off his nose. “Are you serious?” he asks, licking some water off his lips. You nod. He opens the door and you flush deep red from your cheeks to your neck. He’s standing there, butt naked in all his glory and dripping water all over the carpet.

“I...can wait...”

“Uh uh,” he says, shaking his head as he grabs your shirt and tugs you into the bathroom. “You’re all mine now.”

__________________

Please reblog if you Like it. Thank you!

[seriouslyblacklikemysoul]

Lovely distractions - Sirius Black X Reader (smut)

Requested by @slytherinsurf : Helloooo! Your writing makes me cry, it's so amazing!! Could I request a sirius x reader oneshot that has fluff, and smutt? The reader suffers from nightmares and stuff, so one night she goes to the common room, and Sirius wakes up, and comes down to comfort her. (He's super sweet and caring) Then one thing leads to another, and things get a bit steamy ;)? Thank you so much!!!! Xxx Well, I AM SORRY! But I wasn’t strong enough. I gave in to temptation. There isn’t enough fluff. I am sorry :(  Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT (my heart loves it!) My English and swearing. Image isn’t mine/ Credits to the original owner[I wish I was ;) ] Masterlist

You were inside a mansion. You had no idea how you got there. The only thing you could remember was the burning sensation on your arm. Why was your arm on fire? You glimpsed and froze. The Dark Mark. You had the Dark Mark. You-it couldn’t be. You couldn’t be a Deatheater. Your parents were but you had run away. You would never be one of them. “Prove your loyalty. Kill them”, a cold voice told you and someone handed you a wand. You were utterly lost and confused. What was happening? Three people walked into the dark room. All air left your body when you saw their faces. You screamed and tried to move but a strong grip kept you pinned down. You were fighting the grasp but it was useless. “You were always a disappointment” your father spat at you. You looked over the familiar faces and tried to find something-hope-in their eyes but they were blank. Empty. This is impossible. “Very well” he continued. He raised his wand and fired the cruciatus curse towards James. He fell to the ground and screamed in pain. You were begging him to stop but he never even gave a sign he’d listened to you. He moved on to Remus. This time you were spitting curses and trying to get away from the grip that held you. When he deemed that he had tortured him enough, he went over to Sirius. But he stopped. He lowered his wand and put it in his pocket. You thought that he finally had enough. How foolish of you… He took out a smile knife with a sharp blade that made your heart stop beating. His hand was getting closer and closer to Sirius’s throat. “No, please, no, no” you screamed at the top of your lungs. A red line appeared in his throat. You grasped your wand and pointed your father. “Avada Kedavra” Your eyes shot open. It took you a bit more to realize that it was just a nightmare. One of the nightmares that kept you up at night. It was strange though. You were sleeping with Sirius which usually does the trick. But not tonight. You tried and regulated your breath and slowly crept out of the bed, trying not to wake up Sirius as you untangled yourself from him. He looked so calm and beautiful. You removed a strand of his messy hair from his face and place a small kiss to his lips. Tiptoeing, you got out of the room, leaving the boys to rest. You made your way to the common room. It was Christmas. Very few people had stayed. The Marauders and you were the only ones from Gryffindor and that’s why McGonagall never reprimanded you for sleeping in the boys’ dormitory. Not that if she had, it would have prevented you from sneaking in. You could never go back to your house. You had run away. All that pure-blood mania, it was madness. All that crazy ideas-your parents were mental. That house never felt like home. You thought you would never find a home. But you did. And it had a name. Sirius Orion Black.  You sat down by the fireplace. A vivid fire was burning. The flames were dancing, consuming the logs. You really didn’t want to deal with the dream. Why on earth would you dream something like that? Why those people were torturing you even in your sleep? You had run away but it felt like you could never run away.  Those people had hurt you more times than you could count. But if they ever touch him, you will kill them-you knew you would use the last of the unforgivable curses on them without hesitation, even though you hated it. A fluffy blanket was wrapped around you and you slightly jumped in surprise. You had been too lost in your thoughts to realize that Sirius was standing there for a while, looking at you a bit concerned. He had wrapped in you in the blanket while he was shirtless. And of course, your eyes were roaming his body. It was a sight that never failed to make you blush. His wide shoulders, his perfectly shaped torso… his abs. Your cheeks were turning red but you could always blame it on the fire. He plopped right beside you and wrapped himself in the blanket. Suddenly he was too close. And half-naked. “What’s wrong, love?” he asked you while he placed a kiss under your jawline and rested his head in the crook of your neck. “Nightmare” you whispered as your hands reached for his and started playing with his slender fingers. “Wanna talk about it?” he husked into your ear. Well, if he kept doing all those little things you weren’t going to talk. You shook your head and kept quiet. He kissed your neck again. Softly. Lovingly. ”Love...” he encouraged you, murmuring against your skin. You let out a heavy breath. “I- I was a Deatheater. And they made me k-kill you but I kinda killed my father because he-because he was holding a bl-blade to your-your-your throat” you stuttered out. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. He grabbed your hands and caressed them before he cupped your face asking you to open your eyes, as you did. “Baby, it was a nightmare. It could never happen. I would never let it happen” he said with certainty. How could he be so sure? You leaned into his touch. He kissed you. His lips soft but hungry. His hands ran down to your waist and while the one stayed there holding you tightly, the other went further down and grabbed your bum, making you straddle him. He nuzzled his face against your neck, kissing along your skin before mercilessly biting and sucking marks onto your neck. You loved the marks he left on you. You loved the fact that he was yours. He rubbed circles on your hips as his lips traveled down your chest, still biting and marking as he went. You were wearing one of his shirts-you smelled like him. He pulled it off of you, feverishly. He groaned when he saw that you weren’t wearing any underwear. “Let me help you” you mumbled, reaching out for him. You wanted to touch him so badly. You wanted him. “No baby, this is about you” he breathed out. You whined. “But I want you” you said pouting. He chuckled, caressing your body. “You’ll get me baby”. You shuddered, biting your bottom lip as you smiled. He held you by your hips, sitting straighter before nipping, kissing and biting at your neck, your chest, your breasts as he shuffled back towards the middle of the couch, pulling you with him. You knelt in front of him, hands clinging to his broad shoulders as he pulled you flush against him. You could feel his thick cock throbbing against your stomach. Your boobs were squished against his chest as he removed his lips from you. “Let me distract you” he growled, smirking. That smirk of his was driving you crazy. He grinned, grabbing your hands and falling back, lying on the couch, dragging you along. He grasped your thighs, pulling you up so you could straddle his broad chest. You were blushing uncontrollably. Sirius had an enthusiastic smile across his face as he stared at you in loving wonder. “Come here love” he husked. You blushed again as you understood what he was implying. “Sirius I- haven’t… we don’t have to-” “I will drag you up myself” he said rather raspy. You didn’t even try to stop the bright blush rising to your cheeks-again- but did as you were told, crawling up until your knees sat on either side of his head. You braced yourself on the couch’s arm. You couldn’t help it. Your heart was racing as he ran his strong hands up the back of your thighs. He squeezed your butt, then all of a sudden dived in. You gasped, holding on tighter as his tongue parted your lips, licking a broad stripe up your core to your clit. He licked, swirled his tongue and very carefully nipped at your throbbing clit. You ground down, trying to get more friction from his tongue, and he moaned deeply -and the feeling of the vibrations made you shudder in delight. You let out a breathy moan. Hearing that only encouraged him. You could feel his smirk. He teased you hole, circling and lapping at your wetness. Then he plunged his tongue in deep. You let out a loud gasp that quickly turned into a low moan, as you bit your lip and let your head fall back. You didn’t even care that you were in the common room and practically anyone could walk in on you. Even Minne for fuck’s sake. Sirius’s hands firmly encouraged you to grind down as he fucked you with his tongue. That familiar tight pressure had built up quickly. Way too quickly for your liking. “Fuck” you gasped. You felt him chuckle against your cunt. Your mouth fell open, your lips parted in ecstasy something you knew he’d have loved to see. He was always praising you and telling you how damn good you looked like that.  “Please, babe, please…” you moaned out and closed your eyes. It was so good. He grabbed onto your hips, guiding you firmly to grind down against him. You were shaking, so damn close.  Sirius moaned beneath you, clutching at your hips.  “Fuck Siri…” you muttered over and over again. So close, so close. You felt the all too familiar feeling and groaned. Your knuckles were white as you gripped his arms. You head fell forward and bit your lip. You came. Hard. “Sirius” you hissed, your body trembling. Sirius brought his hand up to the small of your back, bracing you as you came back down again. He slid out from under you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed your collarbone. “Oh, no. We are not done” you said when you finally caught your breath. He raised an eyebrow. You gave him a side smile.  “I am gonna fuck you, baby. And we’re talking about the can’t-even-get-the-word-“fuck”-out kind of sex” you breathed out while your hands were already removing his pants. It was going to be a long night. But he had done it. You were distracted. Way too much to care about the nightmare when your reality was better than any dream.

[sevensity]

Okay so I've had a recent obession with paranormal shit and I was wondering if you had any headcanons for the RFA boys/Minor Trio when playing with a Ouija board for the first time?

Hell yeah!!!!! Same anon, same. Even though I know watching creepy stuff will make me unable to sleep at night, I just binge watch ‘ghost sighting’ videos and stuff hahaha why do I do this to myself

YOOᔕᑌᑎG:

So

So

Growing up, his mom didn’t even let him mention anything related to the paranormal

He would say ‘boo’, she’d say go to your room you’re grounded for a week sort of thing

When he sees a Ouija board for the first time he thinks it’s just some sort of fancy cutting board

Yoosung don’t use it to chop your kimchi  you’ll make the spirits angry

He bawls when you tell him what the board is actually for

Why would you say that who would play with such a thing does that mean I’m haunted will I die????

If you somehow manage to get him to play - which, on a side note, is not difficult at all, you just tell him that if he uses the board all the ghosts will forgive him - oh boy is it fun to watch

Although, either the ghost is having a seizure or Yoosung is shaking so much that the planchette is jerking about everywhere

So you have a hard time knowing anything the spirit is trying to convey with accuracy

“It…it’s saying…lasa…lazan…la…is it trying to say lasagna? Does it know how to spell?”

“Ghost person friend, you want lasagna????”

Actually the ghost was trying to tell you it wants to hurt you but your hand is moving so much

*tries to write a curse but ends up spelling “salad”*

Yoosung soon forgets that he’s communicating with a spirit possibly even a demon and he goes mother hen on it

“You’re hungry right? Do you want food? I have leftovers, wait no, I can make something fresh for you-”

He’s basically the easiest target to possess

ᘔEᑎ:

Has played with Ouija board props for plays and such, but never actually tried for real

though his whole experience could go two ways

either:

he asks a serious questions, ya know, the standard stuff

like “Are you a good spirit or a bad spirit?”

Bad

#Reverts to a 5 year old feeling too scared to pee alone

He has a mental breakdown and wonders why the hell he decided to do this

Then Zen becomes haunted, typical spoopy shit

but do you really think Zen would be so basic 

I don’t

Therefore his first question is to ask, on a scale of 1 to 10, how attractive am I?

Lowkey just wants to get it in with a ghost lady

*the planchette moves to 1*

“No, I’m sure you misunderstood the question…what I meant to ask was, do you think I’m good looking? I am, right?”

*planchette moves to no*

Zen is sweating nervously

What? That’s impossible I am Good Looking my features are timeless

Hah joke’s on you Zen you’re talking to a demon who does not care for you mortal’s insignificant standards of beauty

except Zen’s not having any of it

How dare you.  How dare you. Look, demon ghost thing, I don’t care what you are.  Look at my selfies.  Look at my ravishing face, my handsome looks, these sculpted abs -

So like the demon finds Zen’s narcissism so infuriating it fucks off on its own, and Zen is left ranting about how beautiful he is alone in his room

Once, the demon decided to return to try and possess him, but found Zen making out with a body pillow of himself

it returned to the abyss, not wanting anything else to do with the human world because holy shit they’re scary

ᒍᑌᗰIᑎ:

Is it a commoner practice to converse with demons?

Since it’s something I do every day anyways

yes demons in the business world are still demons so it counts

he’s just really chill about it?

#cuz he thinks money still holds influence over the intangible world 

ghost: threatens to hurt him

Jumin: I’ll sue you

hm I’m pretty sure you can’t do that but ok

ghost: threatens to hurt elizabeth

elizabeth: meow >:3

ghost: ლζ*♡ε♡*ζლ

Jumin: I’ll sue you

ᔕᗩEYOᑌᑎG:

He’s religious, but like

A game that’s super dangerous and it’s basically a terrible idea to play?

and you can get possessed???

which means I wouldn’t have to actually do anything anymore????

Sign me the fuck up

lmao but of course he doesn’t do it seriously

instead he asks stuff like

“So what were the biggest memes of your time?”

*tells the spirit some of his Finest Jokes*

*tries to show it some of his own favorite memes*

the spirit decided that Saeyoung is real cool and enjoys the comedy

#becomes best friends with the dead

“Ah…you know, I aspire to become like you some day,” Seven sighs wistfully to the ghost

ghost thinks he means it as a compliment

but really Seven just wants2die

ᔕᗩEᖇᗩᑎ:

this is dumb why do people do this ghosts don’t exist you’re all idiots

at first he’s the one moving the planchette out of spite

and when he feels it move without it being him doing it

the boy is ready to b o l t

he doesn’t want to admit that he’s scared out of his wit but the truth is he peed himself a bit

also minor headcanon that when he’s scared, he swears like the most sailor-y of sailors that’s an actual word okay

when the board starts spelling out “Zozo” over and over again he’s like??? bruh you trippin’ or something???

ah no that’s just the Ouija board demon that haunts those who use it

aw bitch I ain’t playing around with you cock sucking gypsy no more I’m dipping out of this shit

But Saeran you know the spirit won’t leave you alone if you don’t say goodbye properly

I don’t wanna say goodbye?  I didn’t even say hello??? I don’t want to talk to you???

*‘Zozo’ starts spelling out ‘kill’*

You wanna kill me? Huh? Is that right? Well newflash, ho, I wanna kill you. Fight me fair and square ya asshat.

It basically escalates into a battle of who can come up with the edgiest threats

we all know who wins

hint: it’s Saeran because he’s the Ultimate Edge Lord

ᐯ:

no????

Will literally do anything to get away from the board

which means tripping over every piece of furniture in the house because he’s blind

ends up having to go to the hospital as he walked into a door trying to run away from it because he’s blind

he’s basically allergic to the boards, and can smell them from miles away

you walk into his apartment with one and he’ll disappear in a flash

or maybe you’ll find him hiding behind the TV

his hiding spots are all so obvious

since he can’t see actually anything

because he’s blind

sorry I can’t stop

ᐯᗩᑎᗪEᖇᗯOOᗪ:

whaddaya mean you want me to use a Ouija board get that piece of satanic wood out of my house I Will Not Have Any Of Your Bullshit

But he ends up playing anyways, even if it takes a while to convince him

he manages to piss off the spirit in record time with his sass

“Yeah okay be all dramatic ‘I died five years ago’ I’ve been dead inside for decades do you hear me complaining?”

“You say you’re 4 but when I was four I didn’t even know how to wipe my own butt let alone know how to use a godforsaken portable spirit harem.”

Every time he comes up with an increasingly creative way to say ‘Ouija board’

the ghosts don’t know that Nobody Messes With Vanderwood

unless you want to die again, that is

when a spirit starts making things move and fall around the house, Vanderwood is ready to stab a bitch

“YOU COME INTO MY HOUSE,” he screeches, “UNINVITED-”

*a box of cereal falls out of the cabinet, spilling its content on the pristine floor*

“I spent three hours cleaning this place up and you think I’m just gonna stand back while you make my house as ugly as your personality? Honey I don’t think so.”

he’s wearing the priest outfit, he has the salt, the silver Vanderwood it’s not a vampire tho, and the crosses in a heartbeat

his place becomes 100% Free of Ghosts

word even spreads in the spirit realm to avoid his home, because none that enter are ever seen again

I’d do anything to see Vanderwood dressed as a priest though

[writingthingsisdifficult]

Shrinking - The teaspoon girl pt 5

A witch turns Y/N into a teaspoon sized woman, and Sam and Dean has to make sure she doesn’t get squashed – and find a cure.

Word count: 2226

Have another part – this one is a bit angstier than the others. Sorry about that. Hopefully part six isn’t too far away (I’m sorry – I’m a slow writer).

Please let me know what you think – and remember that I’m not English. Also let me know if you want on – or off – my tag list.

From part four:

Leaning back to look at him like Spiderman, she failed horribly at winking and snorted loudly. “Shhh…” she whisper-yelled. “I’m climbing Sam, can’t you see? Always wanted to – how can I not, I mean look at ‘im,” she continued, slurring slightly. “Mmm… just… muscles, y’know. And…”

She was interrupted by Sam, who surprisingly had turned the shade of a very ripe beetroot. “Y/N, you’re drunk,” he said, gently lifting her off his arm – she’d reached his elbow, and was trying to scramble over a fold in the fabric without falling down – and put her back on the table, where she promptly plopped down on her butt and groaned.

“Hey! Put me back! I’m trying to… I’m gonna… I wanna…” She grinned widely and blew him a loud kiss.

“You’re drunk,” Sam repeated.

“No, I’m not. You’re drunk. I’m… I’m –“ Shutting up abruptly, her eyes darted around frantically. “Bucket!” she mouthed, and then threw up all over herself.

A wet washcloth slapped down on the table, followed by a loud laugh that definitely belonged to Dean. The light hurt in Y/N’s eyes, and she felt increasingly dizzy, but being covered in vomit made nothing better, so she embraced the gesture – even with the laugh.

After wiping her face and discarding her trousers and the sweater, she felt much better. The cool air on her skin slowed the spinning room down to a manageable speed, and she dared to look up.

Dean was grinning, looking like he wanted to laugh so bad, but lacked the courage to do so. Sam was watching her intensely, and suddenly she felt extremely exposed, wearing only a t-shirt and a pair of ill-fitting panties. His gaze was scrutinising, but when she made no signs to keel over, he relaxed a bit, and finally he smiled. “Time to put you to bed, huh?” he said, holding out his hand.

Y/N smiled back, feeling a surge of drunken courage. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Sorry to break it to you, Sammy, but I’m a classy lady. You have to take me out on at least one date first.” With a satisfied grin, she climbed into his hand and let him carry her to the bed.

“Says the girl who just now tried to climb my brother,” Dean chuckled.

“Be nice,” Sam replied with a small, sideways smile. “She’s drunk.”

“Yeah, be nice,” Y/N echoed as Sam tucked the handkerchief around her. “She’s dr – hey! I’m not drunk. You’re drunk.”

“Whatever you say, precious,” Sam finished and turned off the night-light.

It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep, and she slept peacefully, only waking twice from a shadow looming over her, and the rest of the evening passed with hushed conversations and flickering light from Sam’s laptop screen.

The pain that rolled over Y/N when she woke up the next day was out of this universe. Every fibre in her body protested her continued existence.

With massive effort, she sat up in bed and did a short inventory on herself. Head: check, impossible to ignore. Even without the splitting headache, or the fact that her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, feeling like sandpaper dipped in glue. Torso: heart racing, but otherwise okay. Acceptable. Arms and hands: surprisingly sore. What the hell had she been up to? The previous day was nothing more than an alcoholic blur. Legs and feet: both there. That was a relief.

She sighed. “Water,” she muttered, looking around the room. At least she wasn’t alone.

Sam was nowhere to be seen. Probably out on his morning run, but Dean was cleaning his gun by the window, and hearing Y/N’s feeble attempts to communicate, he looked up from his work. “She lives! How you feelin’, tiny? Ready to go climbing today?”

She frowned at him and the stupid, bright light slapping her across the eyes. “Like shit. What the hell are you talking about?”

“Like you don’t know,” he laughed, “trying to hit on my brother with your impressive rock climbing skills…”

A vision of fabric and arms and a disappointed face flicked in her brain. “Oh, Jesus, kill me! Kill me now!”

“Nope. It’s too much fun watching you dance around –“

Y/N hissed when Sam strode through the door. He smiled brightly when he saw her. “Morning! How are you feeling?”

Y/N’s face flushed with embarrassment. Or maybe it was arousal; he looked absolutely delicious with his hair clinging to his face, and drops of sweat rolling down his throat. “Horrible. Hey, Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m… sorry about… last night.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. You were drunk. It’s Dean’s fault, really. He shouldn’t have given you alcohol.”

“Hey!”

Y/N grinned. “Yeah, Dean. It’s all your fault!”

“So no harm done,” Sam continued over Dean’s grumbling, holding up a white paper bag. “Breakfast’s in here. Save a sandwich for me.” With a wink, he disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Y/N with a spinning head and bright pink ears.

After breakfast, which turned out much livelier than Y/N had expected, Dean fetched his car keys and the box of fake IDs. He picked one for himself, and tossed the companion piece to Sam.

“Seriously, Dean? Where do you get these stupid names from?”

Sam’s protest was somewhat justified, Y/N thought, when she caught a glimpse of the card. The picture was great, but the name… Special agent Philip Artsville. Didn’t stop her from giggling, though.

When she finally managed to pull a serious face again, Sam had already changed into his FBI getup, and so had Dean. Y/N paused for a moment. “Looking sharp, guys, but how am I gonna fit in those pockets?” The suit was elegant, but the pockets weren’t the largest.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Sam made a series of indecipherable noises before clearing his throat. “Yeah… about that…” He hesitated for just a bit too long. An unpleasant sting settled in Y/N’s stomach, and got even stronger when he looked to Dean for confirmation. “We don’t think it’s such a good idea for you to come with us on this one.”

“What? But…” Never in a million years had she imagined them leaving her behind.

Dean nodded. “Thing is… you’re so small now. If something happens… I don’t have the skills to fix squashed dolls and neither does Sam.”

“Come on! I can’t stay here. I’ll lose my mind! Nothing will happen –“

“You don’t know that. Look, I’m sorry, but the decision is final,” Sam said, looking at her with a mix of sympathy and determination. Y/N stared back with pure frustration in her eyes.

“It’s for the best,” Dean agreed, receiving a cold stare in return.  

“Fuck you,” she spat, trying hard not to burst into tears. “I’m going crazy here and you wanna leave me behind?” She turned on her heel and marched over to her bed-box and climbed in, struggling even more than usual, pulling the handkerchief completely over her head. It felt too big – like she was drowning in the soft fabric.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N,” Sam said, trying to pull the blanket back just to see that she was okay, but she clung to it and almost got lifted off the table. He didn’t get an answer.

“See ya later,” Dean said, and then the door closed.

Y/N peeked over the edge of the box. The room was empty. Darker than she remembered. She climbed out and padded over to the nightlight. At least the switch was on the base.

Slowly climbing onto the metal disc, she stopped for a second. It was harder to get up there. Craning her neck, she tried to see if they’d moved her bed without her noticing. No, it was same lamp as before. But it had definitely grown.

Shaking her head, she threw her leg over the edge and pulled herself up. The switch was harder to push too. Putting all her weight and strength behind the push, she almost toppled over when the switch finally gave and light flooded the table. What the hell? She didn’t have the same problems earlier.

The drop down from the lamp seemed almost daunting now the thought had settled in her mind. Making her way over to the box, she measured herself against it. She couldn’t look over the edge any more. “FUCKING WITCHES!!!!!” she yelled, kicking the matchbox ladder. It didn’t even move, and she sank to her knees, clutching her hair and screaming louder than she had ever screamed before.

Falling quiet, she sat with her back against the box and stared into the room. It was as if it expanded; each wall slowly moved outwards. And it was too quiet. If they’d only left some music on or something. Even crappy daytime TV.  But no. Everything about the situation reminded Y/N of how insignificant and useless she was.

Not ready to face this new revelation, she crawled into the bed and sank deep into her little mattress. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, and eventually she fell asleep, having no other means to pass the time.

Sam came back first. He’d left Dean behind at the diner, and gone straight to the motel with a bag of food. At first he was confused when the room was completely silent, with no sign of Y/N, and his stomach fell when he found her exactly where they’d left her that morning.

“Hey,” he said softly, stroking her hair away from her face to wake her. “I’m back. You hungry?”

Rubbing her eyes, she replied with a yawn followed by the tiniest sigh. “Mhm. Where’s Dean?”

The question punched Sam in the gut. Asking for his brother – he didn’t know what to say. He wished that he was the first thing on her mind when she woke up, but if it was Dean… Her heart would be shattered. Dean had never seen her as anything other than family. “He’s… uh… not here.” It was a coward’s solution, choosing not to utter the words that might hurt her.

She smiled. It was a sad smile, but a smile nonetheless. “Oh, he found himself entertainment for the evening, huh?” Letting out a small laugh, Y/N hauled herself out of the bed and climbed into Sam’s hand. “Good for him. Hope she was pretty.”

Squinting, Sam watched for a heartbreak reaction. There was none. Was the girl Dean had gone home with pretty? He honestly hadn’t noticed. “I guess,” he said, shrugging noncommittally, busying himself with preparing dinner for Y/N.

He put the plate down for her, and pulled up a chair. Y/N was mellower than usual, if mellow was the right word. Somehow all her movements seemed sluggish without the laziness – every time she turned her head it was gentle, a small movement, every step slower, every time she lifted her arms it was… timid: that was the word Sam was looking for. It was as if she tried to be invisible.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, regretting it immediately. The look he received was so lost, so without hope, he could barely stand it.

Y/N drew a short breath and sat down on her spoon. “You mean besides the obvious?” It would’ve been a crisp question had it not been for her voice; just a mist, not really there.

Resisting the urge to scoop her up and cradle her to his chest, Sam settled on leaning on the table instead. The tiny shake almost tipped her over. “We’re working on it,” he offered, knowing it wasn’t enough.

“I know.” It was a short answer, and it broke his heart. Y/N had given up. She looked him in the eyes. “I just… I miss my make-up and my clothes. I miss feeling pretty. And useful.”

“I know you do,” Sam said in a whisper, and continued: “For what it’s worth I think you’re pretty. And even though you can’t help out physically right now, you bring support and friendship. You keep us company. That’s plenty – ”

“Instead I’m fucking shrinking!” Her voice quivered, and she sniffed, turning away to hide the tears in her eyes.

“Shrinking?” This was bad news. A thousand what ifs raced through Sam’s brain.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I can’t… can’t see over the top of the… the…” She sniffed and got up, dragging her feet behind her until she stood in front of Sam’s outstretched hand, and leaned forward a little, nudging it ever so slightly.

As gently as he could, Sam lifted her up and held her tiny body close to him, stroking her back with his thumb. Soon he felt hot tears trickle down his collarbone, and he rocked back and forth, saying nothing and everything all at once.

After a while Y/N’s sobs quieted, and her shaking body stilled in his hand. Her chest rose and fell evenly, and Sam held her up to look closely at her.

Her face was wet and swollen, and the skin around her eyes was raw and pink, but she looked peaceful for the first time in ages.

Careful not to wake her, he carried her over to the bed and tucked her in, before returning to his laptop, doubling his efforts.

Dean found Sam lying on top of the covers in his bed. He was fully dressed and sleeping restlessly. The laptop had slid halfway down from his stomach, and the cursed bowl was in his hand. Scattered all over the bed and floor were papers with scribbles, copies of the symbols on the bowl, attempts at translations.

Smiling softly, Dean checked on Y/N before cleaning up the mess and the computer, and carefully moving the bowl so it wouldn’t fall to the floor and shatter.

Once that was done, he expertly removed Sam’s shoes and coaxed the blanket from under him. “We really need to figure this one out, little brother,” he whispered as he shook the blanket out over Sam. “And then you and Y/N are gonna have a serious talk. Don’t think I haven’t seen through you. Both.”

With a squeeze on Sam’s shoulder, he went to get ready for the night. When he got back after brushing his teeth, Sam had turned over on his side, facing Y/N and stretching a hand towards her.

Part six

Tagging my wonderful friends:

@awesomeahwu @brynleewolfe @funwithfanfics @babeinthebowtie @savingapplepie-eatingthings @winchesterprincessbride @savvythedork @littlegreenplasticsoldier @youtubehelpsmesurvive @blackcherrywhiskey @mrswhozeewhatsis @schwarzwaelder-kirschtorte @aiaranradnay @iamreadinginsecret @barneybrigade @fandomismyspiritanimal @mogaruke @kathaswings @superwholockyooooo @missdestiel67 @blackfandomtrashandproud @wstrumpel @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @saradiamayaf @escabell @exploratiionist @hennessy0274-blog @sushi-senpai-chan @femmewinchester

[j-f-c-j-c-g-main]

Storybook Assassin-Short Story 1

I let out a deep breath and stare up at my latest adversary. We have been in conflict since early yesterday morning and the battle is showing no signs of ending soon, if ever. I take a step back and wonder, how much stuff can possibly fit in one closet? It’s not even a big closet. I set the box of books I had been moving and check the time: 9:02. I don’t need to be at work until ten, so I (regrettably) still have some time left to clean. Once again I plunge into the jungle that is my closet, looking for the treasure that is The Adventures of Weed Wacker and Binary. Volume 4. 1985. I tug out another beat up looking box labeled Misty’s princess stuff. Misty is my sister, she’s 8 years old and a pain in the butt. I move to set the box down on my bed, but before I can put it there, the bottom gives out. Knickknacks and toys from two years ago spill out all over my already crowded floor. I scramble to clean them up, but don’t really get far. You know when you go to clean out your clothes and sort of end up wearing them all? That’s pretty much what happened to me. So, instead of putting them back in the box I end up wearing a crown, veil, weird little princess cone hat, and an elegant red king’s robe. That’s when I notice the wand. It’s about a foot in length and made of a translucent, glittery, purple material, that I assume is plastic. It has been taken out of its packaging, but unlike all of the other toys in the box it is not battered or broken. I think nothing of it and pick up the wand, cold to the touch. I lean back in my chair, and jokingly point the wand at nothing, and give a half-hearted “Bippity-Boppity-Boo.” To my complete surprise a swirling blue portal appears on my wall. I let out a very undignified yelp and drop the wand, which lands on my foot before falling to the floor. That’s way too heavy to be plastic. Now, to answer the question, what’s inside that portal? I have no idea what to expect, so I grab a bag that I normally bring when I go camping with my family. Inside it I have toilet paper, duct tape, two bottles of water, a compass, Swiss army knife and a notebook with some crayon pencils. As an afterthought I grab my phone, I probably won’t get service, but one can always hope. When I slip my phone in to the front pocket of my shorts I get a glimpse of the time: 9:40 AM. Shoot, I’m going to be late for work if I go exploring. Should I go? I know I have a couple vacation days left, but I don’t know If I’ll make it back through the portal. Then again… there’s also a portal to another freaking dimension. Aw, screw it. I grab my phone to call in and ask for today off. I dial the number, it rings twice before cutting off, the ring replaced by a voice. “Jane Black, Rainy Day Comics, how can I help you?” “Jane, it’s Clara, I need to use one of my vacation days.” “’mkay, may I ask why?” “Found a wand while cleaning, made a portal, gonna find out where it goes.” “All right, I’ll buy it. Bring back something cool to show me.” The dial tone sounds and I slip my phone back into my pocket. All right, I guess I’m doing this. I take a deep breath (in case I end up underwater) close my eyes, and step through the swirling blue circle. Oh boy. I step out into a peaceful, sunlit forest. It’s warm and bright, bluebirds and cardinals chirp in the branches, and the grass is soft under my feet. You’re kidding me. In my excitement I forgot my shoes. I spin around to run back into the portal and grab them, but the portal is gone. I pause to bang my head against a tree for a moment before holding the not-plastic wand in front of me and shouting the incantation that brought me here. “Bippity-Boppity-Boo!” Nothing happens. I try again, nothing. I slump down, and glare at the wand for a bit before pushing myself up and heading south. I tuck the wand in my back pocket, seeing as it’s not doing me any good right now, and resign myself to a long walk to the next town. I don’t get far. About five minutes into my quest for civilization I run into two of natures most feared and hated creatures: cops.  As soon as I see them, I freeze and step on a conveniently placed stick. Snap. The cops take that moment to notice me. As they turn to face me I notice they both have translucent wands with black handles that look like they fade to red and patches on their chests that read Magic Patrol in a flowy script. I quickly turn to face them straight on, trying to hide my wand, which I’m probably not allowed to have. If I can hide my wand from them and if I can convince them to take me to the nearest town and if they don’t put me in jail, maybe I have a shot of finding out how to get home. If I can get home. “Oh, hello. I didn’t see you there,” I say. They both raise their right eyebrow simultaneously. Dang, I wish I could raise one eyebrow at a time. “I appear to be lost,” I continue, “could you two point me to the nearest town?” They don’t answer, instead they turn toward each other, and one of them takes out a little glass tablet. One of them taps it and a hologram pops up. A shining blue map of the forest with two silver blips for the cops, and one red blip, that I gather must be me. That’s probably not good. “Miss-” one of the cops begins before the other one cuts him off. “Look here lady, you’re under arrest,” he barks in a loud gravelly voice. Before I can react, the calm cop- the one who spoke first, is behind me and my wand is in her hand. Then the loud cop takes the tablet and scans the wand first, then me. He turns to his assistant and growls “this is the wand we’re looking for. The girl isn’t from here, she’s of no consequence.” And with that, they run off, jump into their car, and leave. Now, unless I can get that wand back, I might be stuck in this weird fairy-tale land forever.  

I give up. I’ve been walking for about five hours, and it’s dark. I think time works differently here, but that’s not really surprising, given I’m in an alternate dimension. My feet hurt, I’m sweaty, I drank one of my bottles of water, and still no sign of a settlement of any kind. I sink to the ground against a ridiculously large tree, whose roots make a pretty comfortable nook. I’m glad it’s warm, because I don’t have a blanket. I tuck my bag under my head and put the Swiss army knife next to me, just in case. I can see slivers of the sky through the leaves, and it’s filled with stars. That’s not something you can see at home. I fall asleep with the tree guarding me, the stars twinkling, and the crickets singing.

I wake up to the sound of twigs snapping, and the soft sound of breathing. Breathing that is not mine. My eyes shoot open, and I find myself looking into a pair of violently green eyes, about six inches from my face. I scream and kick the green-eyed intruder in the gut. He flies backward and ends up sprawled on the grass, I jump up and grab my Swiss army knife. “Who are you?” My voice comes out creaky and riddled with sleep, not as threatening as I’d like. Green-eyes scrambles backwards into the tree opposite mine and puts up his hands. Now that he’s further away and I can get a better look at him, I realize he looks familiar, but I’m not sure where I’ve seen him before. He’s dressed in creamy white shirt with golden epaulettes and buttons, and red pants with shiny black riding boots. His hair is black and looks like it was smoothed back earlier, but now it’s ruffled up from the wind. Then it hits me. “Prince Charming?” He sets his hands down and nods. I shove my less-than-ideal weapon in my pocket and plop to the ground. I just kicked Prince Charming, the Prince Charming in the stomach. If I wasn’t in trouble then, I certainly am now. Oh, well. I’ll try to make the best of it. “Think you’d mind giving me a ride to the nearest town? To my surprise, he doesn’t. He stands up, and offers me his hand before realizing I had already got to my feet. I introduce myself and he introduces himself. Prince Chad Charming LII, he says he’s not that far from town and would be happy to give me a ride. I gratefully accept and off we go to find his horse.   It’s a pure white stallion with beauty uncommon in a horse, and I honestly don’t know what else I expected. We climb on, him in front with the reins, me in back clinging to the saddle for dear life. It takes us the better part of an hour to get to town and when we do, it’s a picture-perfect storybook village. Although, at second glance, it doesn’t look quite so picture-perfect any more. I can see handmade patches on almost every roof, and a good portion of the houses look like they’re about to fall over. The butcher is arguing with an old lady over a scrap of meat while everyone else looks around hollow-eyed and hungry. This whole trip has just been one giant train-wreck. That makes this the perfect time to start an awkward conversation. “So… What’s a prince doing gallivanting around in the woods, miles from his own kingdom?” For a second I think he’s not going to answer, but then he squints, like the reason is embarrassing, and starts talking. “Well, Princess Amethyst is hosting a ball tonight, to celebrate the finding of her wand, and me and my family were invited. We normally don’t like to have anything to do with the Amethyst’s, but finding her wand is a big thing, so my parents think we should be there. And, well, I didn’t have a date. So I went off into the forest to look for one, because my family has had luck with finding damsels in distress in the woods before, and I thought if I could find one, I’d get a date to the ball.” The wand? Could that be the one those cops took from me? “Why is finding her wand such a big deal?” I say, carefully steering the topic away from finding a date for the celebration.  The prince looks a little put-out, like he thinks I would offer to be his date. No. “Well, in magical families, it’s a tradition for the firstborn to get a wand, or a spell book, or something like that when they turn sixteen. The princess’s wand, which had been her great-grandmother’s, was put on display in a museum. It would remain there until she came of age and claimed the wand. But, about three years ago, the wand vanished. Just, gone. Like it had never been there. They reviewed all the security footage and found nothing. We were all resigned to its loss until yesterday night when, the royal guard caught its energy signature about ten miles north of here. Now the princess is eighteen, and ready to claim her wand, even though some may not wish it.” I hmm softly under my breath, if there was a way to get home I may have just found it. “Why wouldn’t some people want her to get her wand?” I ask. “She doesn’t seem so bad.” At this the prince whips his head back and gets this weird look in his face. “You’re not from around here, are you?” I shake my head and mutter something about being from a kingdom across the sea. The prince sighs and starts to explain. “The Amethyst family has always been a little… harsh. They let their country fall into poverty as they grow richer and richer, there’s never enough food to go around, and they can throw you into jail for the smallest reasons. The princess is the worst of them all, even without a wand, and with the king and queen getting old…” he trails off. “The whole country is worried about what she’ll do. It just doesn’t seem right to stand around and do nothing, but my kingdom has bigger worries.” He sounds sad, I can see why. It’s a pretty bad situation the Amethyst kingdom has got itself in. That’s when I get an idea. Time to play hero. “I assume the wand will be present at the ball?” “Yes.” I crack a small smile, this could be my ticket home. “Do you still need a date to the ball?”

I grimace, this was a bad idea. This was not worth it, I wish I was still in the woods. I have just walked through the doors of the Amethyst castle, in a smooth, bright blue dress. The prince is next to me, and his parents are right behind.   They were overjoyed see their son had brought me back, and immediately stuffed me into a bath, did up my hair, and jammed me into the dress. With high heels. Though I must admit, I do look pretty dang good, blue works well on me. I look around, hoping the wand is in plain sight, unfortunately, I can’t see it. The prince, luckily hasn’t quite figured out what my plan is. I don’t know if he’ll be mad or not, but his parents certainly would. This is so illegal. My plan is simple, find the wand, get the wand, kick the princesses butt, and get home. Easy. I keep looking around trying to catch a view of the princess or the wand. After circling around the ballroom twice I finally realize, I don’t know what the princess looks like. I am the best at planning, I blatantly lie to myself. I turn to the prince and ask him what the princess looks like. “She’s right over there.” He says and points at a girl a little taller than me, with long white-blond hair that fades into lavender at the ends, and a dress to match it. And she’s holding the wand. Unfortunately, at that moment the music starts. I need to dance. I don’t know how to dance. I have to get away. I spot the princess slip her wand to a servant, if I can get over there, I can grab the wand and get out of here. The prince is looking away now. This is my chance. I take a deep breath, and slip into the crowd. Making my way over is harder than I thought, and half way through I have to press myself against the wall to take a breather… there are so many people it’s hard to think. That’s when the prince pops up beside me. “Fancy seeing you here,” he quips. I swallow, this is not going my way. “Ho-” he cuts me off. “I don’t need your footwear to recognize you, you know.” I smirk at that, but he doesn’t lift a lip. “Tell me what’s really going on.” I can’t do that. He’ll never believe me. “I’ll believe you.” “You were right when you said I wasn’t from here. But I’m not from another kingdom, I’m from another universe. A universe where all this,” I wave my hands around, “is fictional. I found the wand and somehow opened a portal to your world. I tried to get back and couldn’t, and then the Magic Patrol took the wand away. Then you came, and when I figured out about the wand I thought I would talk to the princess and have her zap me back home, but when you told me how awful her and her family was I knew I had to do something and I…” I pause to take a breath, there are tears in my eyes and a very confused look on the prince’s face. But then the confused look turns to determination, and he holds his hand out to help me up from the floor which I didn’t realize I had fallen to. “Okay,” he says, “I’ll help you.” I start to open my mouth to thank him, and he cuts me off. “But, when we open the portal back,” if we open the portal back, “you’ve got to show me this world of yours, deal?” “Deal.” We shake hands. It’s time to kick some princess butt. I run around the left side, and the prince takes the right. If I can get halfway up the staircase I’ll be right above the princess and her servant. From there I can drop onto the servant’s head and wrestle the wand away. From there the prince will help hold any attackers back as we escape. After that we’ll go… somewhere, I’m not exactly sure where, but the prince says he knows some people who can do magic, and might be able to get me home. I hope he’s right. I tap my way up the stairs, being careful not to make too much noise with my stupidly loud high heels that I can’t even walk in. I almost trip over my dress twice. Why did I think I could do stairs? How am I going to land on someone’s head while I’m in a dress? I take my shoes off and decide to figure it out as I go. I reach my destination without further incident, and peek over the edge of the ivory railing. I’m right above the servant with the wand. The prince is at the front of the crowd, and he gives me a thumbs up. Then the princess starts talking. “And now, for the main event,” the princess says, her voice sounds like wind chimes and crystals. She grabs the wand off the plate it’s being held on and brandishes it. It starts glowing red. She starts glowing black. There’s some screaming. Time to go. I grab the top of the railing, and scoot my feet back as far as I can without falling over. If I get enough momentum I can catapult myself over the edge in one smooth move. I pull my arms forward and push my legs upwards as I launch myself past the railing. It occurs to me while I’m in midair, this was a really, really bad idea. But then I don’t have any time to think, because I just crashed onto the plate the servant is holding. I slam into the ground, the servant crunches on top of me. Yes I mean crunches, his nose cracks pretty hard against the floor and starts bleeding I’m not much better off. Pretty sure I’ve broken my tail bone. Princess Amethyst screams and turns to face me. The wand is still glowing red, as are her eyes and holy heck that’s creepy close up. She points the wand at me and opens her mouth to scream something, I scramble backwards as a bolt of energy flies from the front of the wand, just barely missing me. I continue to crawl backwards as she continues shoots at me, but luckily, she has terrible aim. I try to catch the prince’s eye as I move past him, I give my head a desperate jerk, trying to tell him to circle back around and tackle the princess. All the other guests are screaming and storming the doors. The princess aims a blast at my head, and I go flat as the bolt zooms over my head. I really wish the prince would come help. The prince comes and helps. He hurls himself into the princess and grabs her around the waist, effectively bringing her down to the ground. The wand is knocked from her grasp, and I watch as it clatters across the floor. I lunge and grab it. Oh jeez, I grabbed it. What do I do? “What do I do?” I yell at the prince as he struggles to keep the princess on the floor. “How should I know?” He yells back. “Just try something! Turn her into cheese or something.” Oh, turn her into something else. But not cheese, I have something more…fitting in mind. I raise the wand and it starts to glow green. “Amethyst!” A bolt of light soars from the wand, and strikes the princess right in the chest. It starts turning into crystal the moment it hits. She screams death threats and vengeance as she freezes. In less than a minute it’s over. The prince rolls off of the newly crystalized princess and groans. “That’s the last time I go looking for damsels in distress.” I laugh, I can’t help it. It’s not particularly funny, but after the day I’ve had, I need a laugh. Now I can only hope when the prince says he knows people he’s right.

The prince knew some people. He got me out of trouble with the Magic Patrol, covered up most of the chaos with the fight and figured out how to get me home. I ended up taking back a spell book to show to my boss. It’s pretty cool, and I’ve even learned how to float things (Including myself). I couldn’t manage to take the wand home though, something about it being a priceless heirloom.  All and all, I’m pretty happy with the way this adventure turned out, I’ll just need a break, and some new shoes before my next one.