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starlostseungmin · 3 months ago

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a wedding and an unexpected meeting — han jisung.

୨୧‎ 𖹭⠀⁺　best man!han x fem!reader (she/her pronouns).

SUMMARY: 　you caught his attention during the wedding ceremony and after that, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

GENRE & WARNING/S:　 fluff, strangers-to-lovers, han and reader’s characters are inspired by charles and carrie, han is smitten, skz members that were mentioned and the reader are in their late 20s, alcohol consumption, swearing, a few paragraphs of kissing, inaccurate description of places maybe? semi-proofread, lmk if i missed one.

WORD COUNT: 　4.1k

୨୧‎ 𖹭⠀⁺　inspired by four weddings and a funeral, if you haven’t watched it then you should! also note that the places mentioned are inaccurate, so please don’t mind everything. dedicating this to @starseungs for surviving a bad week and to han for it is his birthday today !! don’t forget to reblog and leave feedback.

“Don’t be such a doofus! Go and talk to her!” Jisung heard Hyunjin say after he kept banging his head on the pole of a random tent at the reception.

He’s been greeting everyone and received congratulatory messages that would later be relayed to his brother. With all smiles and handshakes, the draining social interactions, and trying to keep up with the conversation, Jisung just wanted to have his forehead get struck by the pole but then, the “you” situation happened. It created this burning urge inside of him that he wanted to make a move yet your presence being his top priority, he couldn’t move at all.

“What if she won’t like me?” Jisung answered with doubt in his voice as he looked at Hyunjin worriedly. “I’m such an awkward person! You know I never approached someone before!” He added, grabbing Hyunjin’s collar making the latter almost spill his glass of champagne.

“The woman won’t eat you alive Han! Man up.” Hyunjin groaned, trying to get his friend’s grip off from his expensive suit.

“Easy for you to say! You’re handsome and people would swoon over you. I am surprised that you’re still single in your late 20s.” Jisung retorted as Hyunjin glared at him and sighed.

“So what?” Hyunjin argued, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

“Are you sure you won’t use your face to get laid tonight?” He asked with those eyes filled with sadness for his dear friend.

“I don’t give a fuck about dating and leave my hopeless romantic ass alone so go ahead and make yourself useful or something!” Hyunjin shooed as he pushed Jisung away from him. The younger boy scoffed at him while fixing his white blazer and went ahead.

“Such a waste of potential!” Jisung told him but Hyunjin just turned his back away and left the pole.

It is indeed a special day for everyone in the reception but to Jisung, it’s not just his older brother’s wedding day. He stood at the altar as one of his brother’s best men as the bride glided gracefully through the aisle way back at the church two hours ago. You stood from one of the benches after the maids of honor, wearing that beige dress to match the motif. Jisung saw you there, all beautiful and elegant, a gorgeous creature he had never seen before. It’s not safe to say that it was love at first sight but he was captured by your bewitching presence. He stood there with confidence in the hope that you’d notice him too. Maybe not, for you didn’t know who he was.

He asked for your name after the wedding ceremony but no one knew as you were new in town. You were clinging to your only friend at the venue, Jeongin whom you shared classes with when you were in college, and yet, he was out there hanging out with his other friends leaving you alone by the fountain. No hard feelings, aside from him, you were there for the bride.

“Y/N! I’m so happy you could make it.” The bride beamed as she approached you with a hug.

“Pleasure to be here. I can’t miss your wedding.” You smiled at her. “Congratulations on another chapter in your life!”

Jisung stopped in his tracks as he stood two meters away from where you and the bride were having a conversation. He was drawn into how soft-spoken you were and the way you laugh is so elegant and classy. He also finds your smile pretty and the way you keep a pleasing eye contact with the bride somewhat makes him want to experience from you as well. A short exchange of words is not your best feature when it comes to socializing but having to understand the fact that you’re not the only guest around is acceptable and it wasn’t long after that the bride left for another guest to entertain as you sat down on the rim of the fountain, sipping on your glass of wine while enjoying the busy sight of people sharing gossip and laughs.

It was his chance but shame and being bashful made him turn his back on you when the bride left as his heart started to beat faster than normal when he knew he was done waiting for you two to finish. It was crazy how his heart wouldn’t stop jumping as if it was going to rip his chest to get out from the excitement he felt the moment he laid eyes on you back at the church. He doesn’t know what to say to start a conversation and he hates himself for wasting minutes while you sit there, so beautiful in his eyes. But not until you noticed him being uneasy.

You weren’t dense not to notice him ever since the wedding march started. His eyes were on you instead of the bride but you pretended not to put much thought into it because maybe he was looking at someone else. Another guest went to you and told you about a guy asking for your name but he was called by Jeongin (surprisingly) even before you could say your name. He was also going to approach you first but the bride beat him to it and when it was his turn, he couldn’t move, instead, you could see the shape of his back from where you were sitting. And that’s when you were sure, it was you he was interested about.

“You know, you’ll never get the girl if you stay still on your spot.” You said making him flinch in response and slowly turning around to face you.

“H-Hi?” Jisung greeted you with that sheepish smile of his as you stood up from the rim and walked toward him.

“Hi.” You smiled and oh boy, he was smitten. It was like having to see an angel amid a large crowd.

“I’m sorry if I ever made you uncomfortable, I’m not a creep or anything. I’m justー” Jisung said, waving his hands in front of you implying that he has nothing but good intentions.

“No, no, I totally understand.” You said cutting him off and offering your hand for a shake. “I’m Y/F/N (your full name), the bride’s college roommate and you are?”

“Jisung, but everyone calls me Han. I’m the younger brother of the groom.” He said, shaking your hand and it was so soft that he didn’t want to let go. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, Han.” You smiled at him.

He is cuteーthat you admitーhe also stood out from everyone else as he wore that white blazer among the four other best men his brother had recruited. His long black locks were styled neatly with a bit of his bangs sprayed still on the sides of his face, a white polo shirt inside that white blazer, a cream-colored tie around his collar, the black slacks, and the shoes, he looked neat and attractive. Han didn’t want to leave a bad impression when this day ends and Hyunjin was right, he needed to man up to finally be able to get himself useful to society and flirt. He can’t blame the poor man for not having a lot of experience when it comes to finding a partner, and so do you.

Despite his feeling of shame and you, not loving to interact with strangers, you are thankful that he came by albeit there was a long pause between you and him. To be honest with yourself, you didn’t know how to start a conversation either but Han most definitely caught your attention as well and you’re happy about it. The loneliness faded into thin air as his smile brought color into your gloomy and colorless solo flight.

Maybe it was fate that brought the two of you together in the same place at the same event. The sounds of people coming and going, their conversations, the laughter, and the wind were making the atmosphere somewhat entertaining to listen to. Jeongin was talking with his old friends, and Hyunjin was with them. Everyone is busy with their bubbles leaving you and Han together.

“So uhm, do you know anyone around here?” He asked you, finally breaking the ice.

“Apart from the bride, there’s Jeongin.” You said pointing at your dear friend using your glass of wine.

“Oh, you’re with Jeongin? I’m sorry!” He said, upon realizing you must’ve been taken and mentally wanting to slap him square on the face.

“No!” You giggled. “I mean, not in that kind of relationship. We shared classes in college with the bride so we’re pretty close. We’re just friends and I came here with him.” You reassured as Jisung sighed in relief. “You know him?” You asked.

“Yeah, he’s a family friend and a business partner. I thought you were together.” He blurted out making you laugh.

“Oh, but it’s not that.” You smiled, taking a glance at Jeongin from afar. “Actually, it has been a while since the last time we saw each other since he started working and I’m on break from my masters.” You added.

“Masters?” He asked, feeling intrigued.

“Yeah, Liberal Arts in a university in (country).” You answered, sipping a few amounts of wine.

“Wow! You’re amazing. So you’re new in town?” Jisung must’ve been entertained in this conversation as he kept getting interested. With such beauty that also possesses a great mind, he is never going to turn his back away from this.

“Well, you could say that because I have never been outside of Seoul before. It’s my first time to be here in Chuncheon.” You said as Jisung nodded thinking it might be a good chance to know you more.

“Well, I could show you aroundーI mean…” Jisung wanted to slap himself for being direct and let the ground eat him because of embarrassment but he only earned another laugh from you which made it more degrading but endearing at the same time for he finds it cute. “I mean, if you’re not going to leave for Seoul or if you still have time before your break ends. I swear, nothing creepy though. I mean… uhm… it’s just that…well fuck.” He stammered with a flustered look on his face.

“I get it, Han.” You giggled at his cuteness making him red as his hands got shaky and cold. “I’ll be back in Seoul by Friday afternoon so that gives you a day left to show me around.”

“Really?”

You know it wasn’t right to trust a stranger at first hello but the thing with Han Jisung is just so shielded. He’s the cute guy you met at the wedding and finally pursued a conversation. Not only that, he made a subtle way to ask you out and you answered. Even him got surprised. He wasn’t expecting you’d be up to it immediately. There’s nothing suspicious about those round eyes and cute cheeks with all the stammering and awkwardness.

“Yeah.” You said. It seemed like you were desperate too but it’s been lonely since you arrived yesterday. Jeongin was with his friends and only accompanied you to dinner because you were too shy to go along with the other guests staying at the same hotel. “But I have to leave in a few minutes since I need to submit some paperwork to my professor before the deadline tonight.”

“Where are you staying? I can walk you there or give you a rideー”

“It’s fine Han, I’m just at the bride and groom’s hotel until Friday after lunchtime. How about you?”

“Well, they’re planning to have a yacht party tonight so I’ll be there with my friends and newlyweds of course.” He answered as you gave him a nod.

“I hope you’ll have fun later.” You smile at him as you take a glance at your wristwatch.

“Thanks.” He said as he noticed you looking at the time. “Is it okay if I walk you back to your hotel?” He asked as you look at him again.

“Wouldn’t your brother and friends look for you?” You asked him.

“They wouldn’t. They know I don’t like big crowds and my friend just shooed me away before I came to you.” He said making you laugh again in response and place your empty glass of wine on the waiter’s glass tray who happened to walk by.

“That wouldn’t be a problem.” You said.

“Lead the way!” He beamed.

You knew you had a lot to talk about while you were on your way to the hotel not far from the reception. It was a breezy afternoon and the sun was almost at its peak to welcome the night sky. Han is sure to have a lot of things to share as you listen to him. A long exchange of words happened and it is quite entertaining knowing that you (surprisingly) have a lot in common. He is the type of guy to smile a lot and gets really hyped when excited. You, on the other hand, got smitten with him and found it cute. The jokes he said and the laughs you’ve shared, he’s funny without making any effort.

When it was your turn to say something about yourself, it came out to be unexpected with all the things you carried from the moment you met Jeongin and the bride. You made him laugh out of your clumsiness, for being forgetful nowadays because you get busy. After all, he can totally relate and tell you he would always carry a piece of paper and a pen with him despite having a notes app on his phone. The story of you being single for a while after a nameless, stupid, irrational guy dumped you during the anniversary of your university way back in college and how flings don’t work on you because the guys you tried to date were all fuckers. Jisung wanted to be different.

It wasn’t the wine that you had earlier but minute by minute that you spent with him, Jisung became more handsome in your eyes. You could listen to his voice all day without getting tired of it and the fact that he also mentioned that he sings, made your heart leap even more. He came out to be somewhat nerdy but in an acceptable way and he is thankful for letting him talk about a lot of things without getting bored of him. The anxiousness of having a stranger beside you just vanished as you became comfortable with his presence yet you know that he’s not a stranger anymore but a new person you decided to open the door to your life even if it’s just for a short while.

“Well, this is me.” You said as you both stopped at the entrance of the hotel.

“It was nice spending some time with you Y/N.” He smiled despite the feeling of sadness he had inside because he didn’t want it to end.

“Thank you for keeping me company, Han.” You smiled back and he knew he had to leave in a few minutes for the party tonight.

“Not a problem actually but uhm…” He paused. “May I ask you out tomorrow? I mean, you mentioned you’re not so familiar with Chuncheon so maybe I can show you around? If that conversation and agreement is still valid of course! I mean, I won’t take it to heart if you’re notー” He stopped when he felt your lips on his cheek making him turn red.

“You may.” You smiled at him as he was utterly speechless.

“S-so, uhm… will 9 or 10 in the morning tomorrow?” He asked, feeling bashful as ever.

“9 am would be great. Good night, Han.”

“Good night.” He said.

And with you disappearing across the double doors of the hotel’s entrance Jisung almost passed out. His heart was going crazy again but good for him, he finally asked you out. He may want to thank Hyunjin for shooing him away earlier just to get to you but for now, he wanted to keep it sane for himself and let the excitement burst later when he’s alone. A big and cheeky smile is plastered on his face as he takes his way back to the reception to meet his friends so he can get a ride to the yacht party later.

“Where have you been?” That’s what Changbin asked the moment he arrived, still having that lovesick smile on his face earning a disgusted look from his friends.

“Yeah, did you finally get laid?” Hyunjin smirked making him slap his arm in response as the smile faded and turned into an annoyed one.

“With whom?” Jeongin asked, feeling intrigued.

“Oh shut up you three.” Jisung sighs. “I met a girl, talked to her, walked her back to the hotel, and asked her out.” He said.

“Finally! You made yourself useful for once, Han.” Hyunjin clapped. “Is it the girl in a beige dress?” He asked as Changbin and Jeongin raised a brow.

“Yep,” Jisung smiled. “Thank you for leaving Y/N alone earlier, Jeongin, I owe you one.” He added, taking the younger one’s hands and shaking them violently.

“You were with Y/N?” Jeongin gasped despite his disbelief.

“Who?” Changbin asked, feeling completely out of place.

“None of your goddamn business. I’m taking her out tomorrow and perhaps, show her around Chuncheon so you three can go hiking without me. Ha!” Jisung exclaimed and made his way to the car, dancing in joy. The three of his friends looked at each other in amusement and later shrugged the thoughts off to move to the next venue.

It was already dark when they left the reception after getting everyone’s attention to announce that to those who wanted to attend the after-party at the yacht by the coast. Changbin was driving as Hyunjin and Jeongin were talking. Jisung was surprisingly quiet despite his excitement earlier and he was beating himself upーthinking about giving up the after-party to get back to the hotelーhe couldn’t wait to spend the day tomorrow and he could only decide to meet you halfway from his next destination. It’d be stupid if he’d ask Changbin to stop the car and make an excuse for having an upset stomach when in fact he walked out of the car and went back to the hotel. Hyunjin wasn’t convinced about Jisung being a pathological liar but they let him go anyway.

Jisung didn’t get scared of the dark when he decided to leave and went straight to your hotel when all of the guests were heading to the yacht. You stayed behind because of the commitment to your masters and you didn’t want to fail. Jisung asked the front desk about your room being out of breath because of the running as you typed into your laptop by the windowsill, trying to get a nice view of this foreign place. You weren’t expecting any unexpected things to happen tonight aside from submitting paperwork not until you heard a knock outside your door. The laptop is soon left unattended on your couch as you make your way to the door and take a peek from the small hole. It was him.

“Han?” You asked, immediately after opening the door for him.

He was still wearing his suit and was about to knock again. It looks like he was hesitating to get here but there was this unspoken spark and excitement in his eyes that he could not hold it in that’s why he ended up here. Also, he can’t get you out of his mind and seems to have a lot to say to you albeit in the conversation you had this afternoon. Being frozen on his spot, he couldn’t construct the words into sentences the moment you opened the door and just stared at you, thinking what he should say or just let his lips crash onto yours because of his goddamn feelings. He admits, he was curious and drawn into you the time he laid his eyes on you and now he’s here trying to make up the time he wasted after saying good night.

“Han, what are you doing here?” You asked. “I thought you were going to the after-party.”

“Changed my mind on my halfway there.” He said. “Well, I know I said I’ll be here tomorrow by 9 but I just couldn’t wait.”

“What?” You asked again, confused but you couldn’t lie to yourself that you feel the same even though you just met hours ago.

“Y/N.” He called as he locked eyes with you and there he realized it was indeed love at first sight. “Fuck.” He hissed, feeling his lips onto yours.

It was unexpected but without hesitation, you returned the kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pulled him inside while he closed the door from behind. His kisses were desperate and longing at first filled with unspoken words as they became tender and exploratory with a hint of excitement and commitment. Your eyes shut at the slam of your lips together, the taste of wine and champagne getting mixed lingered upon the kiss. It was sweet as your lips molded together, feeling each other’s hot breaths at the tip of your noses as it got deeper.

Your hands reached for his neat hair which was now messy and disheveled as your fingers played with the long strands of his black locks. He snaked his one hand around your waist to pull you closer to his body and let you melt against his kisses while the other hand was placed on your jaw to feel it better. The kiss is tempting and hot. It wasn’t like the kisses you felt before from the guys you allegedly dated, not even close to your first kiss when you were in middle school. Jisung’s kiss is so different as you feel sincerity and fondness. You didn’t want to break it, you wanted to feel a little bit more.

Jisung doesn’t want to stop either but the fact that kissing someone he just met is a bold and shameful move. He loved your lips at first taste and now you’re getting pinned against your door hearing a loud thud as he continued to move his lips on yours. You hugged him again as he placed his knee between your legs so you couldn’t escape and you didn’t have the intention to. He could feel how eager you were that it made him smirk against your lips and he couldn’t stop himself from it.

Your hands reached for his collar to pull him closer to yours to feel more although you know it’s not right for you to be this desperate. I didn’t matter anymore. The years of not being able to be kissed properly are something that you don’t deserve and now Jisung is the very first one to make your heart flutter like butterflies, you can’t just let him go after this. He also knew you felt the same the moment you got struck like lightning by his frantic kiss. Again, it doesn’t matter. You want him too, that’s all you both need to know.

“I want to be with you,” He said, slightly pulling away from your lips upon trying to catch his breath. You locked eyes with him again as you placed a soft kiss on his lips before smiling at him.

“Isn’t it weird that I want to be with you too?” You asked him as he chuckled in response.

“No, it’s not.” He said. “Did I interrupt something before I…”

“No,” You said cheekily and kissed him again. “Are you staying for the night?”

“If I’m allowed to?” He answered between the kisses.

“You may.” You answered before pulling away. “But what about the party?”

“I can’t go now that we’re doing this.” He giggled. “Let me stay here for a while. I mean my room is just above this floor so I’ll take some clothes and we can spend the rest of the night together and go on a date tomorrow like we agreed…?” He added as he caressed your cheek, still keeping that eye contact with you.

“Sure, let’s do that.” You said as he gave you a forehead kiss before excusing himself to go to his room, leaving you all hot and a blushing mess. Meanwhile, he was out there by the hallway dancing while humming his favorite tune and being all smiley about what just happened.

It is indeed a special day, a wedding, and an unexpected meeting.

୨୧‎ 𖹭⠀⁺　───　 @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89 , @lashaemorow , @hanjsquokka , @suebin , @starlostastronaut , @stayconnecteed , @myjisung , @arrasuh 　( open. )

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

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shroomdreams · 7 months ago

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propagation 1: Argenti

Cw: friends-to-lovers, reader in heat? (bugs don’t have heats but this is the best way to describe that), propagation monster!reader, pheromones, breeding kink, p in v, creampie, argenti revealed to be a monsterfucker???, implied virginity loss, afab!reader

AN: Just take this 💀 I am extremely unwell about this concept and Argenti

As a fellow Knight of Beauty, you and Argenti hit it off when you first met, landing on a planet where the locals were being accosted by some fragmentum creatures. You tagged along when your business was done, helping the citizens of the universe as his spear pierced enemies, while your shield protected the weak. All was well until a sudden event caused you to split from Argenti. Though you were saddened that you could no longer be with him, you continued on your journey.

In a way, you were happy that Argenti was no longer with you. Peeling off your armor and underthings, you gaze in the mirror with a frown. Humanity fades into purple chitinous armor, a pair of arms sprouting from your back alongside two, fragile cyan wings. Despite extolling the virtues of Beauty, there was nothing about you that can even be remotely beautiful. All you knew about yourself is that you were the product of something… awful. You’re lucky you haven’t remembered the details of your birth.

Today, you hid yourself away on the planet you first met Argenti. The locals welcomed you back with open arms, and even prepared a whole cabin for you to stay at. You couldn’t be more grateful for their generosity, especially considering the reason why you were hiding away in the first place.

Chrrrr…

To put it simply: The urge to Propagate had been calling to you for quite some time. Though your rigorous training and patience had managed to stave off the urge, you were bound to be overwhelmed. And for some infuriating reason, your thoughts were filled with the rosy-haired knight you met so long ago. How many months has it been since you last saw Argenti? Would he have remembered you?

Your body tingles, primal thoughts swirling in your mind. Argenti would be the perfect mate, your brain tells you. He’s strong, handsome, and you think an army of Argentis is exactly what this universe needs. However, you shake your head of these vivid images. You shouldn’t be thinking like that about your friend- You haven’t seen him in so long!

Hopefully, the urge will pass and you can return to roaming the universe, and perhaps bump into the rosy-haired man that plagues your mind. However, that plan is thrown out the window when you hear three knocks, and a familiar voice calling your name.

Argenti couldn’t believe his luck! Just as he visited this planet, he heard news that you were staying here for a while. His fellow Knight, and beloved friend, finally reunited with him. He contemplated on if he should bring something along- It’s only fair that he brings an apology for leaving you alone for so long…

Either way, Argenti await with a patient smile as he stands by the door of the modest cabin the locals said you were in. Such a quaint little building inspires warm feelings in him-

“A… Argenti?”

He’s quick to pick up the slight waver in your voice, how you seem to be tense about something. Argenti adjusts his stance. “My friend!” He calls out, resting a hand on the door. “It’s been quite some time. Do you mind if I come inside?”

“Oh, sure. Just… Give me a moment.”

He hears the rustling of clothes, followed by a meek “come on in.”

The interior of the cabin is rather nice. It certainly feels like a home, and the tasteful flowers everywhere really adds to the atmosphere. However, Argenti couldn’t help but notice a few peculiar objects scattered about. Mainly the strange, dull, purple orbs clustered together in a corner, and your armor tucked away in a nook. He quirks an eyebrow, before looking to you. You were rather disheveled, wrapped in a robe that seemed a bit too snug for you. There was also a rather sweet scent in the air, though he couldn’t exactly pin down what it was.

“A-Argenti, my friend. I’m sorry for the mess, today has not been kind to me.” You smile, patting the couch. Your body tingles as Argenti nears. He smells exactly as how you remembered him, how he smelled of flowers and vanilla- Your image flickers for the briefest of moments, but you desperately hoped Argenti didn’t notice. If you could just make it through this visit without much incident, you would be happy.

“Friend, are you alright?” Argenti asks, a frown on his face. “You just seem so jittery. Have you fallen ill?”

You quickly shake your head. “Well, yes, but i-it’s not so serious. Just a bit of a weak spell, that’s all. Tell me about you though!” You lean it with a grin. “I’ve been wondering what you were doing while we were separated.”

So Argenti regards you with tales of adventure- How he narrowly managed to escape the jaws of death from a Sting. You don’t realize how close you’ve gotten to him until you feel his hand touching your face. How lucky you were, that Argenti seemed to always be wearing his armor, else he would have felt how hard your “skin” seemed to be.

“O-Oh. Sorry, I’ll-“

What you were about to say was interrupted when Argenti leans in to place a kiss on your lips. You recoiled, looking at him with wide eyes and a blushing face. “Argenti?”

Instead of answering you, Argenti closes the distance, grabbing your wrists and pinning them to the couch and breathing heavily. “I’m… You…” He panted. His cheeks seemed to be dyed in the same hue as his hair, the waterfall of crimson cascading over his shoulders and making you feel small. “I’m not sure what’s gotten into me,” Argenti mumbles, his eyes sweeping over your quivering frame. “But you… You’re beautiful.”

“Argenti-“

You whimper when Argenti starts grinding against you, the fabric of his pantaloons not doing much to hide the pressure behind them. He sighs out, eyes closed as he rut against the space between your legs.

“Argenti wait- The pheromones- Ah~ They must be making you a-act out.” You murmured, trying to get him to see reason. That must be why he suddenly kissed you- The pheromones you were emitting must have triggered a response in Argenti. You have to stop him before he does something he’ll regret- Or worse, see you in all your ugly glory…

But Argenti seems determined to hold you down. Vines grown from the floorboards and wrap around your body, twisting and curling until you were immobilized. A whine was drawn out of you when Argenti kisses your neck, your disguise faltering again. “Argenti-“

“My friend~” Argenti shakily gasped out, leaning back in order to undo your robe. Before you could say anything, Argenti peels off the only protection you have, unveiling your naked body to him. His eyes grow wide, taking in the sight of your human form dissipating into quantum particles and revealing your insectoid-self, your other pair of arms desperately holding onto him as you look away, ashamed.

“Please don’t stare… I know I’m ugly.”

Those words shake Argenti out his stupor. You watch with wide eyes as he strips himself of his armor and underclothes, tossing the items to the side, revealing his toned body to you. You let out an involuntary chitter at the sight, drinking in his physique before he pulls you up into his arms, his emerald eyes boring into yours. While standing, Argenti continues to grind against you, letting out tiny groans alongside your own.

“Don’t you dare call yourself that,” Argenti growls. The vines wrapped around your limbs restrict your movement, allowing him to position you above his length. Breath quickening, you attempt to fight off your instincts and sink down on his cock post-haste, instead resting your head on Argenti’s shoulders. “You are the most exquisite person I’ve ever seen. The way the light shines on your chitin, I swear you’re made of the most precious metal in the universe.”

Trembling in his hold, you let out heavy breaths as he pushes your hips down, slowly sinking you down on his cock. Argenti throws his head back, feeling your warmth immediately sucking him in as you continue your descent. You whimper, mandibles reaching out and tapping his jaw. “Argenti…” You sigh out, feeling your resolve waver as you fully sink down on his dick. You and Argenti breathe in each other’s presence, allowing for the both of you to adjust to numerous sensations floating through your bodies. Gritting his teeth, Argenti summons the strength to lift up your hips, noting how your warmth drenched him in a strange, purple liquid.

“Magnificent. Like… Like liquid amethyst.” He slurred, a hazy look on his face. His hips begin to pump up into your pussy, fucking whines and chitters from your mouth, your free set of arms gripping the couch for dear life. Every single thrust from Argenti felt like electricity running through your body, brushing against a specific spot that has you screeching out in pure lust. Emboldened by your reactions, Argenti takes to moving your hips up and down in tandem with his thrusts, intensifying his ministrations in a delirious craze. That sweet scent grows stronger as Argenti pistons into your cunt.

“Let’s have children together!” Argenti babbles. It takes your brain a moment to catch up to his words, but when you fully process them, you feel yourself gushing around Argenti’s cock, the purple liquid making his thighs sticky and shiny. You let out a cry as he roughly slams you down on his dick, filling your cunny with his release, white mixing with purple and tricking down in tiny drops. As Argenti takes a breather, you begin rolling your hips, making him whimper from the overstimulation. You don’t heed his tiredness, though. Planting your legs to the cushions of the couch, you began slowly riding Argenti’s cock, purring as you feel him throbbing against your walls.

When Argenti wakes up, he finds himself on the bed, his body sore. You sat at the edge of the bed, cradling three large eggs. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you feel Argenti wrap his arms around you.

“Argenti. Did I wake you?” You asked, turning your head to look at him. He smiles, shaking his head.

“No, you didn’t. I just had the most wonderful sleep, in fact.” Argenti replied, kissing your cheek and laughing when he feels your mandibles tap against his face. His eyes wander towards the clutch of eggs in your arms. “May I…?” You enthusiastically nod in response. Argenti traces the shell of one of the eggs with a careful finger, noting how soft it was to the touch.

“I just laid these three a few minutes ago,” you explained, gazing at your clutch with loving eyes. “Your erm… Material managed to produce these three. The rest won’t hatch.” You look to Argenti once again. “Would you like to hold one?” Seeing Argenti nod, one of your hands scoop an egg and gently hand it over to Argenti, who holds it like he would a human baby.

“We made these precious gems.” He whispered in awe, catching sight of his reflection. “How long until they hatch?” He asked, making sure to keep his hold on the egg steady.

“I’m not sure,” you earnestly reply. “This is the first time I’ve uh. Coupled with someone. And the first time I might have children.” Your chitin gives off a faux flush of purple. “…Argenti, I must apologize. I realized that I may have taken advantage of you. You just wanted to visit me, but then you ended up fathering my first clutch. Hah… what a strange reunion between ‘friends,’ right?”

Argenti just smiles, leaning in to plan a kiss to your cheek. “I must also apologize then, for acting so foolhardy. But in my defense, you were just so… intoxicating. When I gazed upon your true appearance, I felt as if the Beauty had gifted me with something precious. And when you said that you were ugly, I supposed I wanted to show you that… I truly wanted you.”

“Ah, then…?” You leaned towards Argenti, careful to not jostle your eggs. “You wouldn’t be opposed to raising them together?”

“On my honor, I would never abandon our children.” Argenti affirms. “We shall raise them into strong, upstanding citizens of the universe! And no matter what…” He leans in, pressing his forehead to your own and closing his eyes. “I’ll protect you all. No matter what happens, I will take up my spear and fight against the Destruction if I have to.”

Months later, Argenti sheds tears as he holds your daughter while you encourage her brothers to emerge from their shells. He watches as you teach your children to shapeshift, hiding their monstrous forms and taking on human ones. However, he thinks they’re much cuter when they chirp for his attention, laughing as his daughter mimics his red hair.

OMAKE:

“It’s been a while since we last saw you, Mr. Argenti.” Welt politely greets, pouring the Knight a cup of tea.

“Yeah, we weren’t sure if you were still alive after that whole thing.” Stelle bluntly says, letting out an ‘ow’ when March elbows her.

“My apologies, friends. I have been very busy lately.” Argenti says. “I haven’t had much time to explore the cosmos, but Velite has been helping me in finding some work for the meantime.”

“What do you need to work for?” March asks. “Aren’t you a Knight of Beauty?”

“Well, my partner and I both agreed out duties as Knights would be on hold for the time being.” Argenti replies. “We want to ensure our children grow up in a stable environment, so that they may flourish as wonderful adults.”

“That’s nice- Wait, what?” Stelle looks at him with wide eyes. “You have kids now??”

“Indeed! Would you like to see their pictures?”

“…Holy crap, he does have kids.” March gaped. “Triplets, too. How old are they?”

“I’d say… nine months by now?”

“…Mr. Argenti, these children look to be toddler age.” Welt deadpans. Argenti laughs, taking his cup of tea.

“Well, they did recently hatch, so I understand the confusion.”

“Okay then.” Stelle hands Argenti his phone back.

It isn’t a few minutes later did Dan Heng finally speak.

“What do you mean they hatched?”

…Argenti just smiles.

#shroomie.fic #honkai star rail smut #hsr smut #honkai star rail x reader #argenti hsr #argenti x reader #propagation reader #monster reader #monsterfucking #afab reader

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millylotus · 1 year ago

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Secret Son John Constantine

Inspired by @herbatahleb's funny little fanart

As the title says The Everlasting Trio have a child and his name is John “Hellblazer” Constantine

He’s making his parents proud

John was born of a kind of soul blood pact between the three, he got his blonde hair from Sam, his eyes from Tucker, and his overall appearance is a mix of the three of them

John grew up to follow in Tucker & Sam’s footsteps of magic, he’s a born sorcerer unlike them though

His relationship with his parents is generally good, but because of how he treats his soul his relationship with Danny has deteriorated

They argue about this alot, John’s soul is his own and what he does with it really isn’t any of Danny’s business, Danny has the concerned parent vibes of the parent of a sex worker, their fears are founded but they need to trust their kid to know how to take care of themselves

John hates visiting home because of it, Dani will sometimes drag him back home for holidays but he doesn’t stay long

Sam & Tucker try to get them to get along but it isn’t really working

Then one day Danny gets accidentally summoned by the Justice League

---

John doesn’t recognize the summoning circle as it buzzes to life, he doesn’t know what type of creature or being will pop out. If they’re good or bad, or even merciful but he knows they’re strong from the intricate design or the circle. So he recklessly jumps forward, pushing Hal out of the binding circle so the Lantern isn’t bound to the summoned being.

John takes the binding with a scream of pain, feeling electricity shoot up his spine.

He can hear the Leaguers shouting his name, he’s vaguely aware of Jordan supporting him. But what he hears clearest was the voice of a man he most despised in the world at the moment.

“Really John? You didn’t have to do that, he would have been fine.”

John closes his eyes tight and breaths deep, he looks up to the voice and looks into the toxic green eyes as they met his own brown ones.

“Good to see you too Father.”

The green eyed being rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, “Yes, hello Son. It’s great to see you again as well.”

The League had only heard a few things about John Constantine’s family. They knew he had three parents who’re polyamouros, that he has an older sister and an aunt. Besides that all they have are silent grumblings about “Father won’t like this” when he does something risky.

But to see a young filipino man probably no older than twenty, floating over John “Hellblazer” Constantine and looking down on him like a disappointed parent. It was jarring.

Wonder Woman was the first to say anything “John, could you perhaps explain what just happened?”

John and his father broke their intense eye contact to look at Diana, who barely flinched at the sudden attention, the others behind her weren’t so fearless.

Constantine sighed carefully stepping away from Hal, “This is my Father.”

Hal snorted, “Yeah we got that man.”

“Yes John, introduce me to your friends here.”

---

Danny is generally snarky when meeting the League, he makes some weird comments about John hanging out with superheroes, that could be construed as rude

The others are kinda pestering John about who his dad even is, while John is more focused on getting the fucking bind removed

He eventually has to ask Zatanna for help

Danny for the most part is hanging out with the League while John’s working

Someone calls him Mr.Constantine and Danny quickly corrects them saying that isn’t his last name

Which sparks a whole conversation of John’s last name, which Danny isn’t about to say cause real names have power and such

Danny sees John working closely with Zatanna and asks if he’s with her or not, John is beyond embarrassed and even worse is when Danny brings up King Shark, mentioning that Dani really liked him too

John snarks back that then King Shark should have just gone for her instead of him since Danny was so adamant about King Shark being such a great son-in-law

Things get awkward quick as the two snark back at each other while everyone else realizes where John gets it from

It almost becomes a screaming match before the League has to break it up before they go to far

John ends up just calling Sam & Tucker so they can just break the binding

It’s a tense few minutes before they get there, and the League just kinda has to sit there as father & son fume not looking at each other

When Tucker & Sam get there they see the two not wanting to talk to each other at all

Leaguers are not reeling at seeing John’s other parents who he also vaguely looks like but also not

As the two work on the binding John & Danny are being passive aggressive

The two decide that John & Danny need to spend some time together to get this shit figured out

---

Sam : Alright that’s it *Sam & Tucker stop working, Sam has her head in her hands and Tucker is leaning far back* Danny : What? John : I’m sorry? Tucker : You two have been fighting for far to long, you’ve probably forgotten why Danny : I know exactly why, it’s because John doesn’t know how to treat his soul right! John : By The Ancients! You’re still on about that Danny : Of course! Sam : Will you both just SHUT UP! *Silence* Sam : We’re not breaking the binding, you two are going to stay stuck together Danny : Sammy! John : Mama, Papa. Please don’t do this! Tucker : Nuh-uh, this happening, you two are getting a some father-son bonding time for the week! John *distressed*: Why! You can’t just– it’s not fair! *Sam & Tucker loosen up a bit, looking to John softly* Sam : Baby it’s alright, we’re not trying to punish you we just want you & your father to actually talk things through Danny : It feels like your punishing me Tucker : You are his father, you will be the civil one in this so don’t you fucking dare get any lip *Danny goes silent* Sam *sigh* : We’ll be leaving now Tucker : Good look you two The two leave, then silence Danny : Do you still have that demon house of yours? John *sigh* : Yeah I’ll show you a room for your stay

---

Most of the story is really just about John & Danny learning to get along again

Danny has to finally trust his kid to know what he’s doing with his own body

And John realising that his dad just wants to keep him safe & stuff

By the end of their basically grounding the two have begun to mend their relationship, Danny promises to come over and visit along with inviting John back home to the zone when he feels like

I've been meaning to post this for awhile now & it's just been sitting in my drafts until I finally remembered it.

Hope you liked is! :]

Main Story Index [It's kinda messy but it's got links to most everything]

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #danny phantom #danny fenton #john constantine #background everlasting trio #millywrites

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onlyseokmins · 8 months ago

Text

$$60 billion (part 1) • l.s.m.

How did a legendary bounty promised for turning in the wasteland's most infamous outlaw transform into a sick, little inside betting joke amongst your traveling companions? Though you have no idea why they're doing it… you sure as hell don't want that very same gunslinger comrade worth sixty billion double dollars to know anything about it either — but oops — looks like he already does! Damn you and your temper, some unhelpful lip-loosening alcohol, and one no-good, sorry excuse of a preacher you sometimes think of as a friend.

Pairing: outlaw!lee seokmin x fem!reader Genres: eventual smut (minors dni!), trigun!au action!au, apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic!au, space western!au, slight enemies to comrades to ??? !au, angst, fluff, they're dumbasses your honor 🙏 Warnings: swearing, blood, death, gore, guns, injuries, destruction, mentions of knives, weapons, violence, creepy monsters and creatures, ptsd, moral ambiguities, dark topics tbh, smoking, unsettling space western things, slight body horror and hints at altered dna, weird religious cults, mentions of eating/food, alcohol, threats, bets among friends, platonic (but not really) nakedness, reader is operating on a short fuse bc I believe u have to be built different for this universe, their communication is abt to be as poor as the plant life 💀 Seungcheol kinda his own warning imho, biggest apology to chan, and we all love seok sm bc he sings abt total slaughter 🙇🏻‍♀️ WC: 19.5k of 32.7k | Part 2 | Read on AO3 A/N: this is for the Now that's 90's - A Seventeen collab and loosely based off/inspired by the Trigun anime/manga! You do not need to know it as I manipulated a whole lot of elements for my own narrative but beware of various spoilers if you do go ahead and check out the series after reading!! I feel like the boys may seem ooc but I had a lot of fun putting this together 😌 Thank you Summer and Isa for hosting this collab and your utmost patience in me finally writing my piece! I hope everyone enjoys this and please check out the other writers in this amazing collab ❤️let me know your thoughts and feel free to ask any questions regarding this au's intricacies!!

Everyone wanted Lee Seokmin.

The cities' great militaries. Bounty hunters. Bandits on the roads. Criminals escaping death row. Prowling pirate gangs. His twin brother. You.

Though you reckoned your "want" for him was a bit… different from others. Well, at least you hope so, goddamn it.

You shiver.

At first, you wanted him just like the mass majority would one day as well — dead. The deed swiftly carried out with a silver pistol aimed at his temple.

Besides, your blood-thirst began before the destruction of July. Unlike most, who angrily shake their fists at the gaping crater on the fifth moon in the spirit of pure vengeance. Yes, the tragic incident of the great city that upped the bounty dangling over his head like a noose to a sixty billion double dollars reward. But Little Ivywood was the first of many places that would end up reduced to ruins after Lee Seokmin set foot there.

Wiped off the map. Wiped from history. Wiped from existence. But never forgotten. Especially not by the small town's only known survivor — you.

Your earliest memories contain little about the events that led up to being left on the doorstep of Little Ivywood's unofficial orphanage. How could they when you were just a baby? One swaddled in a ratty cloth weighted down by a rusted pistol. There was just one simple hint to your past — scribbled nearly illegible on a torn piece of paper dotted with blood — and could only be what the nuns had to assume was your name.

At least that's how Sister Meryl relayed the tale whenever asked, her hands clasped tightly together in praise and gratitude to the Saint that delivered you to them unharmed. The irony, considering Sister Lucia always looks like she'll faint just like the day she opened the convent's side door. It wasn't an easy sight to see or recall, the image of a wailing infant mouthing on the empty muzzle of a gun.

Neither versions of your origin story could be that far off thanks to the scar marring your left hand and the gun held tightly in your right. You've had both for as long as you can remember. And as you grew and changed, so did they.

The scar shrunk and faded through the years, seemingly forgotten amongst a myriad of other markings littered across your skin. Over time, the pistol's rusted parts were repaired or replaced and soon, its shine and character returned. Restored to its former glory while forging a new beginning ahead with a different owner.

But there were two things that stayed constant throughout your years at the orphanage. The first was your birth name. Not even the nuns, who generally loved bestowing scriptural monikers as if they were granting rich titles to unnamed orphans, tried to change yours. The second was a person who you still refuse to call by his baptismal name — Chan.

He helped you, became an assistant of sorts. Originally just some snot-nosed, beanpole of a fellow orphan you didn't really pay much attention to. A scared kid who cried way too loudly even after you'd even taken the time to demonstrate that the gun was safe after he'd been the one continuously pestering to see it. Very much to Sister Constance's chagrin, since it all went down in the middle of confessional time.

But curiosity eventually overturned the initial fear.

Lucky, because by acquiring bravery, Chan could discover his innate talent for gunsmithing. Lanky, noodle arms transformed into well-formed, sinewy muscles. The soft baby skin of his hands roughened with callouses as he whittled away near the convent's underground furnace. He'd spend hours down there, returning with sweat, grime, and charcoal smudged all over his skin after melting together the random metal objects found by digging beneath the basement's unfinished floor.

The Sisters disliked dirt and grime all over the children and tracked through the doors. But it was hard to keep clean out in the middle of a sandy desert. Complaints dwindled thanks to the fellow orphans who would stop their mischief to watch Chan work. And as time passed, his shoulders broadened further, his voice began to deepen, his dark hair grew longer, and those brown eyes started to sparkle with something different from simple, fleeting passion — it was a dream.

The excitable boy would tell you all about it under the stars. Late into the nights when you searched for what had to be remnants of Earthen materials from the Big Fall, he'd chatter on and on.

"Once we're actual adults," — free from the guardianship requirement provided from the orphanage — "we're gonna leave Lil Ivywood behind and explore the great wastelands of Gunsmoke!"

You snort at the ridiculousness of such an idea. "And how do you think we'll survive?"

"Easy-peasy, I'm gonna build a bunch of guns and we're gonna end up so rich. And famous!"

"Yeah, sure. Throw a couple double dollars at the worms, I'm sure they'll let us pass with no problem."

Not one to be deterred by your eternal sarcasm, Chan shakes his head."Nah, that's where you come in. Didn't think I'd let you freeload, right?"

He stands and stretches both of his arms straight out, the ones your roommate had started to gush over. Hands clasped together like Sister Meryl's always do before prayer time and then extending both pointer fingers into a mock handgun, out into the distant sand dunes one rarely dares to stray.

"You gotta be a sharpshooter to not let my hard work go to waste!"

You lazily take aim next to him, handling the freshly restored pistol with uncharacteristic gentleness. While it might officially be yours, it's also Chan's baby.

"Mm-hm, me and my killer skills."

And then you both dissolve into laughter.

It was such a pipe dream and yet; it didn't seem utterly impossible. There were little moments you let yourself imagine it, too — just until the suns peep their heads above the horizon. There was no way you could defend yourself — let alone another person — from the dangers of the desert or it would've been something you'd attempted years ago.

But when Chan spoke of his plans under the glow of the orbiting full moons, confidently mapping an adventure through an area he's never been to or seen before, and dreamed — he easily pulled you under his spell too. It was contagious, exciting, addicting, and most of all — it could really be… possible.

An armory of grade-A weapons. The bank account overflowing with double dollars. Endless boxes of bullets and the refined skills to shoot them; you were the force to be reckoned with and a protector of those who couldn't do it for themselves.

"Do you think… we could really succeed?" you ask one night, running a finger along the familiar engravings on your gun's grip panel.

Chan's grin was as shiny as the circular metal shell he was carving into. You refuse to look his way because of how infectious it could be. Plus, the main reason it was so stinking bright was due to this being the first time you verbally entertained his ideas.

"Oh-ho-ho, doubt my capabilities?"

"Obviously."

If offended — he was not — by the instant agreement, there was no sign of it. Instead, he focused back onto his handicraft, knowing you would eventually spill your true thoughts if he was patient.

There was no rush tonight after all. A star-filled expanse of black blanketed across the sky — one he hoped would never change to blue.

"More like… it's just going to be so risky!"

"And that's why you'll be the —"

"But I've never even held a gun before!" You spot Chan pointedly direct the corner of his gaze to where your hands rest, causing you to flinch them away from the weapon and wave around haphazardly as your cheeks heat. "I mean, like, to shoot! Sister Lucia always says it'd be too dangerous."

"Sister Lucia thinks water that doesn't flow directly out of the holy grail is dangerous."

"Technically, that's true."

"Oh god, she's got you thinkin' the same, too!"

"But she'd probably rather swear by the Saint than ever let me get any bullets…" The thought alone of the devout nun saying the Savior's name in vain makes both of you smirk but yours falls just as quick as it came. "And we're going to need those if we ever want to leave Little Ivywood."

"Well —"

"And I… I'd have to kill things! People, too. I don't know if I can do that, I —"

" — Think fast!"

It's his turn to interrupt, chipper voice ever optimistic as he tosses the finished trinket your way. Thankfully, your reflexes work fast enough to catch it nimbly in time. The oval is hot to the touch after hovering over searing flames and despite its small size, weighs down your right palm as you glance over its etchings.

Satisfied, Chan takes that as his cue to walk toward the nook that shields you from the roaring heat of the furnace. Squatting down so he's eye-level with your knees, he brushes back his tangled mess of hair with one hand and taps knowingly at the barrel of the pistol with the other.

"There's no reason to kill anyone or anything."

"But this can hurt people… I could hurt people."

"You've had this ever since you were a baby and never harmed anyone with it."

"It's… it's never been loaded or…"

"Doesn't need to be. If you smacked someone with it, they'd surely feel that hit." He snickers, tone bordering on the edge of cockiness. "I would know, considering the sturdy and valuable materials used for repairs."

You roll your eyes and mutter, "Show-off," but it lacks true malice behind it.

"And even so," Chan takes one of his hands and pats the back of your free one, unintentionally right over the spot where your scar lies. "You've hurt no one before. Not even me, who annoys you the most!"

"About time you finally realized how merciful I am."

He says your name in earnest, remaining uncharacteristically serious and lays your intertwined hands on top of the gun before squeezing tightly. "Both this and you don't have to kill a single thing or person — ever — if that's not what you want to do. You can aim for non-vital points, shoot up in the air… Bullets or no bullets, just the sight of a weapon alone can be enough of a deterrent for most."

Chewing hesitantly on your lower lip, you let his words sink in and he continues.

"The fact you're aware of the hundreds of risks when handling a weapon like this means you'll be even more cautious when using it. I trust you, so trust in yourself."

Warmth spreads from your interlocked hands and through your entire body like you're wrapped in another one of his sweet hugs, culminating into tears threatening to spill past your lash line. Chan believed in you and though you'd never admit it aloud, it meant the world to you.

"When did you grow up so much?" you tease, letting out an exhale you didn't realize was being held.

"Aw, c'mon! I've been taller than you for months now!"

"Keep dreamin' if it makes you feel better."

Though Chan sasses back by sticking his tongue out, he lets you ruffle his sweaty bangs despite receiving a slightly bruised forehead in return because you forget about the new gift in your hand. Plotting an escape, he stands and pulls you up with him, joined by your clasped hands.

"We should probably head back. Sister Constance's likely gonna ask us to check the Plant before morning mass and you don't want her to catch you dozing off again."

"Last I recall, you were the one she caught napping!"

"But you have the most demerits this week."

"And whose fault is that?!"

Quick as lightning, he nudges you with enough strength to catch you off guard and destabilize your balance. Then he tears away, calling over his shoulder, "Snooze and ya lose!"

"Ugh, this is exactly why — you never play fair!"

Regathering your bearings at record speed, you dash right after Chan. The boy's raucous laughter echoes in your own lungs and you swear the stars twinkle brighter in the nighttime sky. You overtake him right before reaching the convent's door — the same one you were left on — and clutch at his arm before he can reach past to open it.

"Hey… thanks."

He grins all goofy. Chan's well aware you mean much more than that, but he opts to flick your forehead rather than give you grief over it. "Yeah, yeah. I do so much for you, you know?"

"Mm-hm."

"So it's about time to finally pick a name I can carve onto that bad boy. If you don't, I'll put mine there." He nods to your gun excitedly, then points to the oval. "Oh, and I'll make a chain for that soon. Did you decide what you'll put inside?"

"Questions, questions, demands, demands." You wave him off and open the door with a yawn. "I'll think of one. And yeah, you know that Earthen gadget we found? Gonna cut out those papers and put them in there before sleeping."

Once while digging for materials, you had stumbled across a square object that wasn't completely destroyed, unlike many others. After a few experiments of messing with the random knobs and buttons, you determined it could mimic whatever was directly in front of the clear coated lenses. And later — much to your amusement and amazement — it printed out the image on thick, shiny squares.

Fascinating little things those Earthlings created!

You'd luckily put the last few sheets left in the machine to good use. Experimenting with the surrounding scenery that blurrily featured some of Ivywood's buildings, then one of Chan, and finally wrangled a frame that captured both of you together.

"Do you think you'll be able to stabilize it?"

Your tentative question makes him look toward the large, bulbous structure that houses the Plant. The power source Little Ivywood depended upon.

He sports a cheery grin. "Won't know 'til I've tried!"

"Ever considered too much confidence might be a bad thing?"

"If you're jealous, just say so. But with you by my side, there's nothing we can't accomplish together!" He bounces excitedly on his heels. "Besides, I forgot to mention…" Beckoning you with a hand to come closer, you lean in, curious. "I've become quite the master at bargaining. There won't be a single worm who'll refuse a double dollar from the great Chan!"

"What did you do?"

"What haven't I done?"

"You're the worst. Like to ever exist."

"The absolute best, you mean 'cause there'll be no reason for you to waste any bullets or fear cutting a single lifespan short!"

"Goodnight, Chan."

"You mean 'thank you so much, what would I ever do without you, Chan!' but whatever! You can make it up to me tomorrow!"

But tomorrow never came.

Or rather — daybreak arrived in the unrecognizable form of rapid gunfire and screams of terror. The buildings rattled, trembled, and shook from the onslaught just like the people cowering in fear within them.

The dust stirred up in the chapel's hall after a wall unexpectedly collapsed causes you to cough. Amidst the chaos and panic, you spare a glance over your shoulder to see Sister Meryl, who strides confidently to the altar.

She stands with poise and purpose in front of the marbled stone. Steadfast and unwavering in strength because of her faith alone, even as the grand statue of the Saint starts crumbling down with the ceiling tiles falling around it.

It's a visual you're not likely to forget, carved deep into your memory before you flee with the rest. Sister Lucia is flustered as usual, ushering everyone as fast as she can near the grand oak doors that lead out to where additional shouting can be heard and only more pandemonium must await outside.

You're struck with the damning realization.

The gods — they have completely abandoned humankind.

"That would be ten demerits any other day," Sister Constance voice abruptly snaps, "fortunately for you, now is not the time for such things."

It's astonishing how even at this moment, the nun remains on high alert for 'troublemakers'. Her sharp-nailed fingers latch around your wrist as she breezes by — much too similar to when you've been dragged off to detention. And as if that's what's happening, your heels plant firmly in the ground and obstinately tug her back a step.

"What about Sister Meryl? We can't just leave!"

"If you knew what was good for you, you'll obediently obey me. But if you knew that, you'd recognize faithfulness will guide her and the rest of us to safety."

"Nothing guarantees —"

"Those who do not devote themselves truthfully will never understand. Should the Saint deem Sister Meryl's sacrifice to be in vain, then she has failed not only the Holy Bishop and our sacred bonds, but you — one she unnecessarily dotes on — as well."

You want to argue and protest as Sister Constance yanks you forward. But the faint tremors you feel despite the tight grip of her hand and the tensed jawline of the woman whose stoic face is normally unbreakable makes you pause.

She's shaken. She's unsure. She's wavering.

Sister Constance doubts.

And something about that thrills you. Terrifyingly so.

The shock of it all is as startling as the pale sunlight blinding your eyes when the chapel's heavy doors finally get thrown open. Grains of sand swirl through Little Ivywood, diluting the usual brightness of the glowing orbs in the sky and their powerful rays.

A sandstorm brews on the horizon.

That's the least of your worries, though. Blood stains the soil where shrapnel grazed tender flesh. Fellow orphans scream and cry out from their wounds as they struggle to get away from the captors attempting to drag them to the center of town.

With a chill, you alarmingly realize who they're trying to escape from. Women in black and white robes don a wild, crazed look on their faces. The ones who have raised and cared for parentless children throughout many years and tended to every need they could within their means.

The Blessed and Holy Sisterhood of Little Ivywood.

Sister Constance turns and you jump. Both at the horrors of the present and a reminder of how many times a quick movement of hers led to the sharp pain of a switch or ruler tearing into skin. An eerie sound of laughter rings out and your blood runs cold, eyes darting left and right for the source.

And then through the dust particles, looms the sinister silhouette of a figure in a long trench coat flapping in the wind. Spiked hair sticks straight up, retaining its menacing style despite the powerful wind gusts and emphasizing an already impressive height. You gulp, swearing there's a flash of metal followed by a fanged smirk that glints dangerously as Sister Constance tugs you closer to the terrifying shadow beast shrouded by sand swirling in the air.

A declaration of your given name — stern and cold. "Know that your purpose is being fulfilled, that you are serving the great —"

And then comes a shout of your name, this time from someone desperate and panicked. You're yanked forward and then suddenly catapulted backward, grunting at the impact of your body slamming against someone else's.

"You need to go! You need to get out of here!"

"Chan?!"

He clings to you, shifting so his back is to the nun only a few paces past the corner he dashed around for safety and to stall for time. Throwing a cautious look over his shoulder before whispering urgently, "Go! And don't look back!"

"What about you?"

"Don't mind me." The smooth leather of a satchel presses against your palm. "Get movin'!"

"But —"

"Seriously," the boy shoves you forward with a not-so-gentle push. You gape at the audacity and he waves his hand, like he's shooing away a pesky flying worm. Rude. "Please! I'll be right behind you but —"

An eruption of nearby gunfire and a series of high-pitched shing!-like noises interrupt him. He glances again over his shoulder. You cautiously step forward and his head whips back to let out a hiss.

"Chan, what's —"

"Need to grab a few more things, see if any other idiots need help. Just… just get out of town, wait for me by the rocks if it'll make you feel better." He smiles, though it doesn't make those brown eyes of his sparkle like usual. "It'll… it'll all be okay."

You're uncertain and scared. But something about Chan's speaking powers have always made you believe in the impossible. So, you nod resolutely while taking the bag from him and warn, "Promise you'll be safe."

"You hate those kinds of things."

It's true. To you, promises were only made to be broken. And yet…

"… And somehow you've changed my mind before."

The bangs of carnage draw closer. Louder.

"Fine, just go. Please! And don't look back!"

Acquiescing to his pleas, you sprint toward where he pointed. Sitting like giant sentinels lays an outcrop of boulders bordering the western edge of Little Ivywood. The desert is only two paces away, expanding outward into a desolate plain filled with the undulating slopes of dunes. Picking a sizable rock to hide behind, you keep watch for Chan, cringing at the distant sound of gunshots still rapidly being fired.

What was that? What did you see? And what did you almost get dragged into?

What was going on?

Boom!

It's an ear-shattering noise that causes even the great stones around you to tremble from the explosion. A flare of light so bright leaves you no choice but to look away to protect your eyes, ducking behind the rocks as a shield.

When you recover after it dissipates to see what just happened — Little Ivywood is no more.

It's gone.

"No…"

The tiny town reduced to only rubble and ash. What once were rows of square buildings stacked on top of each other to divert the view of a relatively flat lay of the land are now parallel to its surroundings.

"No… no… no…"

Gone.

You don't think twice about running toward the wreckage. Chan is there. Chan has to be there!

"No!"

And most importantly, he has to be alright.

Broken piles of the shoddy architecture littering the landscape prevents you from traversing too far. Bile rises in your throat as you desperately scan for a sign — any sign — for Chan. For survivors. For anyone. Even the air is still, no longer rippling with irritable heat waves and heavy gusts of wind because the blast was strong enough to ward off nature itself and the incoming sandstorm.

For now.

And during the futile search, that's when you spot him. On his knees with his back to you, slouched over in the only clear space amidst the destruction. The tattered fabric of a cerise garment hangs off the man's broad shoulders and pools around his body like a puddle of blood. Reddish-brown bangs tinged with black hang limply as his chin curls further and further into his chest.

I don't understand, you vent to yourself after a couple ungraceful vaults and stumbling through the debris to get closer. This bastard got what he wanted, did what he wanted, and won! So, why is he acting like that? Who destroyed his town? His people?

Finally, you're a couple steps behind him. Thankful, at the very least, for whatever weird state this man is in because it grants you the opportunity to approach and press the cold steel of your pistol to the side of his temple.

"Don't. Move."

You hope it comes out as the threatening command you intend it to be. There's a tense beat of silence as you wait for his next move until you realize he's doing exactly what you demanded.

Then he chuckles. A choked out, watery sort of sound. Your hands start shaking even as they press the barrel harsher against his head.

"Go ahead and shoot."

"Answer me first." Your voice becomes as unsteady as the quakes in your body and you rasp out, "Why… why'd you do it?"

His head lifts and you flinch, but he takes no further action besides staring blankly ahead at the ruins. "I wish I could tell you but… I've been asking myself the same question."

"I — you…! You wreak hell and havoc upon a whole innocent town and… and you don't even know why?!"

"Pathetic, isn't it?" The man laughs again, without a shred of humor. A gloved hand reaches up to wrap around the weapon and you momentarily falter at the force of him leaning into it. The weight pushing it closer into his skull seems hard enough to leave a nasty imprint, as if that should be a main concern right now. "I'd simply like to know how I did it."

"I —"

"Not loaded," he sighs and drops his hand, twisting around to actually get a proper look at whoever was holding him at gunpoint.

You're taken aback by the intensity of death radiating in those dark brown irises that casually observe you through amber-colored, cracked lenses. Your arms fall down, dumbfounded at the stranger's unflinching behavior, the pistol bumping into your thigh. He lets out a "tsk" and then pulls something out of his pocket.

In his opposite palm, clad in a fingerless glove unlike the left, rests a conical golden object. Though you've never seen one in real life before, you think you know what it is. The shape matches the hollow outlines when Chan disassembled the chambers of your gun.

"A cartridge," he says and you blink. "A bullet," he clarifies upon noticing your confusion. Then the man smiles encouragingly. "Go on. Take it."

You're incredulous. "You're okay with handing that over to me?"

"It's what you want, right?" There's a wistful look on his face. "This place… it was your home."

"No," you're quick to refute, shocked at such an automatic response. Then admitting, "I don't even know what a home is."

Innocent town, my ass, is what you derisively admit inward and snort at yourself.

The convent itself was far from comforting. The other orphans with their bright grins when Saint Meryl sang lullabies on the nights you couldn't sleep — those were the kinds of things that made it bearable.

Guilt.

"I — I —"

It overwhelms your senses. Rattling up your entire nervous system and settling a cruel, cruel weight in your chest. You hunch over, chest heaving, and throat burning. There's a thump as your gun falls to the ground, its silvery sharp edges becoming distorted, warped, and blurred through a film of unshed tears in your widened eyes.

"Should've… It should've —"

"Hey, hey…"

"It should've been me!"

The man rises to his full height, brushing off his clothes before crouching down. A sturdy hand grips your shoulder and dutifully encourages your gasping upper body into an upright position. Gently, ever so fragile, he bops your forehead with his and you subconsciously lean against the unexpected support.

He's near enough to ground you to something solid. But distant enough for two strangers whose first meeting is one amidst a crumbling town's travesty. With his close presence comes the scent of gun smoke, though not as bitterly pungent and putrid as you recall from before. It's subtle and smokey, reminiscent of the fire that Chan once proudly stoked in his makeshift forge.

Your body shakes as the tears finally slip free.

"All lives are equally precious, one shouldn't be sacrificed for another."

"… How can… how can you say that so… easily?"

The death-come-over look in his eyes changes to something faraway. Like he's seeing something beyond the destruction surrounding both of you. Those amber lenses don't have to be cracked to draw attention to the fracturing despair radiating behind them.

Then, he shakes his head and shrugs. "Because you should live even when those dear to you are gone. This world is made of love and peace, after all."

Your crying abruptly pauses with the natural effort it takes to let out a scoff. Ignoring your utter scorn and disbelief, the man's gaze drifts to the pistol still on the ground. The tip of a steel-toed boot kicks it up into the air with a flourish, single-handedly catching it to inspect the weapon with practiced ease.

"Live because there's a reason you survived, even if you loathe every second of it. You'll feel like you don't deserve it. But persevere because you should. Because that's what they would've wanted and you keep them alive by living yourself. A burden? Maybe. Why spend such a cursed blessing only dwelling in regret when you can do so much more?"

He offers the gun back, its handle extended in your direction.

"If nothing else, live for yourself most importantly. Help show the world the love and peace it deserves. Even if it couldn't afford to gift it to you. That's what life is all about. The ticket to the future is always blank!" Pausing, he shrugs with a regret-filled smile on his face. "At least that's what I was taught… and what I think."

"… Awfully full of optimism for some dude who wiped out a full town and doesn't even know why."

"Name's Seokmin," he returns, now sporting a cheeky grin as you cautiously reach out for the pistol. Only to be outsmarted with a literal 'sleight-of-hand' and meeting the warmth of fingers and a gloved palm instead of the expectation of hard, cold, and familiar steel.

"Huh?"

"Lee Seokmin, to be precise! And it's a pleasure to meet 'cha! Erm, despite the… terrible circumstances." Seokmin jiggles the gun in front of you with his other hand, almost taunting you to reach for it again.

You don't.

"And what do you call this lovely lady?"

"Nothing."

"A shame. But not everyone cares to name things, 'specially if they don't hold any value." He finally tosses it back and you barely manage to catch it in time with a scowl.

"Just haven't decided."

"I see! Mine's Geranium."

"Oh, like… the flower?"

He visibly perks up at that even further, a radiant smile showcasing two pointy fangs. "You've heard of it?"

"Well," you scratch your cheek, "the, uh, sisters gave a girl that name because of her hair."

There's an uncomfortable pause as the dreadful realization you'll never see those brilliant ruby locks bounce because of her excitement again settles back into your stomach. You swallow, eyes roaming the stranger in front of you for a distraction.

"Um… you must really like the color… red."

Seokmin glances down at the tatters of his scarlet clothes and shrugs. "I guess. Though the one I saw was red, I've heard they come in different colors."

"You've seen a plant? Like a plant plant? A real one! You know — that grows out of the ground and transforms and all that? It doesn't, well…"

Vegetation was a rarely discussed concept. The only thing you knew came out of the poorly written history books in the dusty library's darkest corner. In the desert outskirts, you had a better chance of finding ancient Earth technology that might still be intact to share its plethora of knowledge about the old world humans left behind than hope to find whatever resources the big cities had access to.

"Mm, yeah, a long time ago. But say," he jovially waves the cartridge from before and it glints in the setting rays of the suns. "Would you care to hear this man's story before shooting him?"

And of course, you listened. What other choice did you have, you who lost everything at once? But even back then, something small and precious was planted in the barren depths of your heart. That was just the beginning. It would continue to grow, watered and tended to under the sunny smile of Lee Seokmin — the destroyer of cities and a very wanted man across the planet.

You leave that tiny bit out during the recitation of your past to the inquisitive pastor. Though something you'll regrettably find out later is he's already got you all figured out.

Bastard.

"… So, that's how I met the infamous Lee Seokmin and didn't end up killing him," you declare with a flourish and take a satisfied gulp of cheap beer picked up from some abandoned mart along the way out of Little Jersey.

Draining another bottle dry, you toss away the metal cap, close one eye, and peer through the narrow bottleneck like it's a telescope — albeit a very poor one.

Through the distorted glass stretch endless sand dunes as far as the eye can see. Stars glitter and sparkle amid the glow of the full moons in orbit, temporarily dimmed by a puff of the roguish's man's cigarette that wafts through the inky darkness.

You wonder if he'd be willing to share one.

"A shame," Seungcheol grumbles and offers a white stick from his pocket.

You take it eagerly only to see it's nothing but — a lollipop. The hard candy's become a strange gooey consistency thanks to melting in the desert heat all day and partially re-solidifying during the nighttime's chilly air.

It's stale too.

Fucker.

You let out a disdainful sniff but nod in agreement to his statement. "It is. But he promised me something. Then his bounty increased from a meager six million to sixty billion double dollars after destroying July, putting a hole in the moon, and all that. So… following him around has paid off."

"I guess," he shrugs, "guess I don't really care 'bout yer lil meet-cute story."

You gape at the audacity. "You're the one who fuckin' asked!"

"Well… figured we could bond, ya know? Orphans 'n all that cozy, feel-good shit."

"You know, not a single thing I've said thus far coud be classified as 'cute'."

"Uh-huh."

"And I never took you to be a sentimental fool."

"Hey, now —"

You hold up a hand. "'Thou shall not bear false witness'."

"As if ya even know what that means," Seungcheol retorts and flicks the ashy cigarette stub in your direction, the cross around his neck ironically reflecting in the moonlight. "Was gonna say, if anythin', I put the mental in sentimental, sweet'art."

Well, you certainly wouldn't argue with that point. "…What I do know is that you're doing this all. For him."

"'Ol Needle Noggin, eh?"

"Well… yeah. But he's only part of a bigger picture for you."

"… 'S none o' yer business, ya know? Best to know less."

Your eyes roll. "Sure. That's why you nearly got hit by our car 'cause you wore a suit into the desert and didn't bring a drop of water. All while hauling that stupid, big-ass cross around! And then you insist on joining us — try to scam us! — but hey," you put your hands up, "none of my business."

"Wasn't tryna scam —"

"Hella shady, man... Hella. fuckin'. shady." You're shocked you can see the man's eyes roll in a begrudging defeat behind his black sunglasses — at night, no less — but you nudge him. "C'mon, just tell me! I bet it has to do with Hopeland, something… or someone back at that orphanage."

"Anyone told ya how irritatin' ya are?"

"Only the ones that are equally just as annoying!"

"Tch, woman." Seungcheol messes up the back of his black hair, mouth opening as he cracks his jaw. There's a pregnant pause. "… 'Han was… he was different. Ya wouldn't get it."

"Try me. Evidently you weren't listening very well, were you?" No surprise there. You retrieve the locket that takes refuge beneath your top, a familiar oval swinging from its long chain between the two of you. "Believe it or not, I do get it."

His eyes fixate on it like a pendulum, darting to your face, and then up to the sky. A crooked smile quirks up the corner of his mouth and he lets out a resigned sigh. "Ya really love 'im, don'tcha?"

You feel a funny sensation.

Akin to getting caught in a horde of flying worms and trying to squash down as many as you can. Your answer is hushed and Seungcheol snickers. Unbeknownst to the two of you that an additional pair of ears — assumed to be asleep — also catches your whispered reply.

"So, how much ya gonna pay for confessin'?" the pastor goads and lets out a startled yelp when you try to smash the hand-held bank he totes around that's shaped like a cathedral.

"Oh, go to hell, Choi!"

"Stare any longer and you'll no longer be needin' Sirocco." An amused snicker follows the relaxed drawl. "Bullets're 'bout to start flyin' outta those eyes 'stead of that gun o' yers."

You scowl at the dumb man seated next to you. "It's not like subtlety has ever been a strong suit of yours. But could you at least pay better attention to your surroundings?" A meager amount of golden liquid sloshes against the sides of the glass you pointedly wave around. "Or are you already too drunk to forget where we are?"

"Ain't no lightweight," Seungcheol brags with his fourth pint of the night in hand and a rapacious grin cockily tilting the empty lollipop stick in the corner of his mouth upward. "Can't say the same for the rest, though. Whiskey's stronger than a punch to the gut."

"… You would know. I'm sure it might just taste like water to some by now."

While it might initially elate most visitors to order as many rounds of the only available beverage on the menu as possible, the reality of the situation was much more grim. As if he can read your mind, the man clad in black, gray, and muted silvers flippantly reminds you of why your so-called merry band of travelers are even here.

"Needle Noggin said 'e fixed the Plant up just fine 'n dandy, so here's hopin' we get some clean bathwater t'night."

At those words, your gaze instinctively shoots back to where it focused earlier. Seungcheol snorts and drains his glass with a satisfactory sigh before poking more fun at you.

"Gonna put a hole through his head at this point."

"Not like that's anything new."

"Yeah, but rather than constantly laserin' holes through his skull, ya should be tryna convince him to fill yers up, instead. 'N not referrin' to that empty space behind yer forehead."

"I know exactly what you mean, you perverted freak."

That cracks Seungcheol up. "'N here I was thinkin' ya was gonna end up a nun servin' the Eye of Joshua!"

By now, you're well-accustomed to the hedonistic ways of the man who still keeps a leather band with a cross on it strapped across his Adam's apple, sewn into the cuffs of his black suit, and carries the hulking shape of one on his weary shoulders.

Unfazed, you fire back, "If they even let someone like you into the blessed and holy ranks, then any whore off the streets would be welcome to join."

It's a series of light-hearted jabs you both take in stride. The truth is much darker and deeper, but tonight serves as a tiny snapshot away from the normal weariness of day-to-day survival in Gunsmoke. Right now, you celebrate alongside the residents of Tonim what peace could really look like in the future.

Except you're on edge.

For a reason that's silly compared to the usual adrenaline rush of tracking down Plants nearing red status and defending the area, all the while trying to prevent the inevitable destruction and chaos to follow. Still, it's why you beckon the bartender over for another refill as a positively "tickled-pink" Seungcheol not-so-silently judges.

"Now who's staring?"

"'Kay, but's not with unbridled lust and — " He's cut off by a sharp kick to the side of his shin delivered by one of your heavy combat boots. "And feelin's," gets wheezed out before the pastor falls silent at your nasty scowl paired with Wonwoo's timely arrival.

The saloon owner and de facto authority in town approaches the two of you cautiously. It's no secret who you are, who you're with. What you do and the things that follow when you do what you do. And yet what you've done has saved the town and given its people — especially the younger folk — something that some of them have never experienced before.

Hope.

And that seems to be good enough proof for Wonwoo. Rumors may just be rumors, after all. None of you are like the reports relayed in a tinny voice through the virtually enhanced radios that are non-plant-powered — aka illustriously dubbed by their inventor as VERnons.

"… the Bloody Rain… follows… Lee… Humanoid Typhoon… armed… dangerous. Punisher… cross… machine gun… two unknown… likely… agents…. Bernardelli Insurance…"

The VERnon sitting behind the counter splutters out bits and pieces of information. He side-eyes the device awkwardly and starts fumbling with the buttons, trying to mumble over the static and monotonous voice.

"Can I pour you another drink?"

"Sure," you chuckle, pleased.

The bartender's well-intentioned efforts are fruitless which is to be expected. Only the creator, and those he personally taught, could truly modify the invention as pleased. A part of you hoped to find evidence Hansol had traveled this far but alas, he was probably still searching through the seven major cities for his beloved Milly before attempting to wander through the treacherous wastelands.

A brown, short-haired darling sneaks awe-filled glances at the two of you from the corner where a group of women around your age gather to chat. Seungcheol's the first to catch onto the admiring starry-eyed gaze and winks. Chuckling when a pudgy hand clings tighter to one of the lady's long skirt, using the fabric as a demure little shield against his effortless charisma.

You catch the tail-end of the interaction with the ghost of a smile. If there's one thing that can definitely soften Seungcheol's rough edges, it's children. You can't blame him, reminded of cheery voices and energetic footsteps pounding after your own through the convent's hallways.

The attractive woman wonders what's drawing the younger girl's attention and leans down to whisper in her ear. Gesturing in your direction, you watch as she nods encouragingly and offers a gentle smile, pushing the tiny brunette forward who readily toddles over. The gaps still waiting for pearly white teeth to grow in that shy smile on the little girl's face are endearingly winsome.

"'Lo, Wonu."

The bespectacled man starts, eyes wide as he peers over the counter and just manages to glimpse the top of her mousy brown tufts. "Is that you, Lina? You're not supposed to be here."

"Past yer bedtime, lil one?"

She huffs indignantly at the two men, hands on her hips. "I've once stayed up 'til four in the morning, mister!"

"Oh, Lina…"

"Besides, how can anyone of good standing sleep properly when there's heroes in town?"

"Huh, what a darlin' angel!"

You scoff at your comrade's words. "As if you've ever seen one."

"I do beg your pardon," Wonwoo scrambles to excuse the child's enthusiasm. "Looks like another talk is due with, uh, Sheryl."

"You're just jealous, Wonu. Sherry says they're heroes."

A chubby finger points at you and Seungcheol and the bartender clicks his tongue — partially in reproach and the other half out of embarrassment. The two of you hardly pay any attention to his reaction, seeming to not mind her boldness at all.

"That's right, sweet'art. And don'tchu forget now." In fact, a certain cross-wearing man revels in it. He rummages deep in his pocket and pulls out a lollipop with a flourish. "'N here's a lil magic gift for ya, princess."

You're one step faster, snatching it and unwrapping the candy with a quick inspection. At least it looks fresh and clean. Seungcheol snorts. Ignoring him, you crouch down and hand it to Lina with a gentle smile.

"Remember to be careful with what you take from strangers."

"I know! But you're heroes… and heroes are always good people! You would never hurt me!" Those blue-green eyes are certainly dazzling as she stares into yours, reminiscent of the clean water now filling the town's reservoir. "You're very pretty."

"That might be the highest compliment I've ever received."

"Pretty people don't hurt anyone either! Sherry's super pretty and she's the gentlest I know!"

A very pretty pastor himself snickers for multiple reasons. Meanwhile, Wonwoo laments with a tired sigh, "Dunno what that crazy woman's been teaching her, I swear…"

"You're not supposed to talk about people you like like that, Wonu!" Lina gives them both the stink eye but returns her attention to focus solely on you — Tonim's loveliest savior in her teal-eyed view. "Will I grow up to be as pretty as you?"

Ah, how your heart aches.

"Even prettier."

"I…" She gnaws on her lip, as if it does anything to hide how much her pleased grin glows. "I wanna be a hero, too!"

"Don't see why you wouldn't become one." To you, she already is — in all her innocent radiance and glory.

"Gotta grow big 'n strong first, missy."

"I am strong!"

"Don't doubt it. But wait 'til yer at least twice my age 'fore ya go swingin' at thugs."

She wrinkles her nose. "I'll be in the grave like Grammy if I wait that long, old man!"

Seungcheol guffaws at her unexpected remark and you hear the bartender beg, "Lina, please!" But you focus on all the brilliance in front of you — from precious unkempt locks to blue eyes full of fire and finally to the worn out, dust-covered shoes.

"Hopefully you'll never need a reason to be the hero, though. It's our duty to keep that from happening."

There's too much hidden meaning and brutal experience in your words for her to fully understand. The lull gives a certain pastor an opportunity to sidle back into the conversation, ready to get up to no good as always.

"Ya wanna meet the hero of all heroes, darlin'?"

"Choi —"

"Yeah!" Lina claps ecstatically.

"Go 'head 'n give 'er yer second key," he coaxes quietly with a shit-eating smirk.

"I swear!"

"C'mon… never like keepin' such a sweet gal waitin'!"

After a minute's hesitation, you begrudgingly agree and take it out.

"Thank ya. Now, got a lil mission for ya, Miss Hero-in-the-Makin'."

"Really?!"

Barely able to conceal her exuberance, she reverently takes the key like it's actual gold and not simply plated. Seungcheol ruffles her hair affectionately.

"Y'see the man in all purple?"

"Mhm, yeah! The one that looks like the night sky?"

"Yeah, give 'im it. Make sure to say it's from this pretty lady."

"Choi!"

"Talk to 'im too 'cause he'll love that. He's a real hero, y'know? Truest of 'em all."

"Yes, sir!"

"Attagirl."

Lina scurries off and you turn back to the counter with a sour glare directed at Seungcheol. "What was that all about?"

"Dunno, cute?"

"I'm really sorry about that all," Wonwoo apologetically interrupts with the offer of another refill which is readily accepted. "She… she's very excitable."

"No need for apologizin', man."

"Yeah, she's adorable. Is she yours?"

The bespectacled bartender stutters, almost dropping the glass he's handing to you. "That's, uh, that's my sister!"

"Ah, makes sense! Didn't mean to assume."

He flushes and turns away. But not without mumbling something about it being okay and your comrade groans.

"Reminder — ya get too drunk, 'm not dealin' with ya ass."

"Great, I don't want you near my ass."

"'S not what I meant!"

"Yeah, yeah."

Seungcheol downs another shot and you're quick to follow his lead once Wonwoo hands over another refill per your shared request. However, this time, the stoic man surprisingly lingers and awkwardly fiddles with his wire-rimmed frames, doing his very best to not let his eyes wander your scantily clad figure as your head tilts back to swallow the burning alcohol.

Meanwhile, the pastor's grin turns wolfish.

"So, uh, who are you, really?"

"Curious, eh?" You lean comfortably onto the counter, braced by your forearms and an alluring smile on your face for the handsome saloon owner. His gaze drifts down to your scar-covered hands which also happen to be placed conveniently underneath your breasts.

You'd once said the best disguise and toughest armor was none at all. And why not flaunt your assets — literally — and put them to good use. The desert is hot anyways!

Seungcheol and Seungkwan both called bullshit. Mingyu applauded you and waved his "I respect women's rights, wrongs, and all the above no matter what!" flag. Seokmin — already used to your behavior and attire — had nothing else to say other than his normal quips of, "As long as you're comfortable".

"Well, a-a beautiful woman like yourself has to have everyone wondering."

And you laughed in the face of your haters every time it worked.

"Just a bounty hunter."

Wonwoo nods at the casual answer, recalling the holster strapped around the plush of your thigh beneath short denim shorts. "Where from?"

"Well… around. My hometown was destroyed so…"

"Oh? Same here."

"Ah, camaraderie." You jab a thumb menacingly in the direction of the purple-cloaked figure and the life of tonight's celebration, currently animatedly chattering to Lina. "That's why I'm turning him in."

"He's…?"

"Yup, Lee Seokmin. Yes," you confirm with a smirk at the way Wonwoo's eyes bug out behind his glasses, "that one — the infamous humanoid typhoon. Don't worry, he won't hurt anything or anyone here."

"He's… uh, he's not quite what I expected."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"You must be pretty badass to reign him in. Heard he's giving what's left of the July regime officers a run for their double dollars."

"For sure. But it's thanks to the other two drunkards, really. Believe it or not, they're Bernardelli insurance agents. Raven-haired one's Seungkwan and the tall one is Mingyu. They're helping to monitor that whopping bounty of mine and prevent any more disasters from happening. Heard I might get a bump in value if I bring him in alive."

"Oh, well, it looks like it's working. And he seems… willing? To come with you?"

"The irony. Always been quite blasé about facing his doom."

"He's really a Plant engineer, too?"

"Of sorts," you huff at his visible confusion but wave your empty glass. "Can I get another?"

He's more than happy to accommodate and returns with two, sliding one over to Seungcheol with a cautious look at the person who seems the closest to you. "And this is…?"

"Pastor. Pleased to meet'cha."

"Oh! Really?"

"A surprising addition to the mix, yeah. But everyone needs to, like, pray sometimes." And under your breath, low enough so only a certain man can hear, "no matter how sketchy they are."

"Do you, hm, officiate weddings?"

The one in question quirks a thick eyebrow. "Ya lookin' to get hitched, boy?"

"M-maybe."

And Seungcheol feels wholly compelled to bless him silently from the bottom of his blackened heart with full sincerity, seeing as how the bespectacled man timidly peeks your way before his gaze darts elsewhere. "Sorry lad, charge 'bout a thousand double dollars minimum."

While the solitary bartender crashes back into the sad reality of capitalism, you jab your elbow into the pastor's ribcage. "Fuckin' scammer."

"Only the best of the best! Ya know, sixty billion's still on the table — 'n it better be callin' my name."

"No one even has sixty billion double dollars!"

"We have 'im." And he points back to where hoots and hollers erupt from the center table of the saloon.

Lina's returned to the woman she was with earlier — presumably her beloved Sherry — but that doesn't mean Seokmin's alone. There's so much disdain in your side-eye, spotting the busty violet-haired sweetheart his arm wraps around. After all, he's the worst kind of ladykiller.

And by that, you mean he absolutely sucks at flirting and can't get or keep a partner to save his life. Yet you're constantly stuck witnessing women, men, and attractive people of all kinds throw themselves at the good-looking man until he opens his mouth and they're put off by his clear lack of suaveness or strange little idiosyncrasies.

"Stop with the stupid bet, it's not happening. Nobody's going to be winning a thing."

"It's called usin' the damn 'magination, darlin'!"

"Which means you need to get better hobbies. You've corrupted my friends!"

"Hah! Them fools were already too invested in this 'fore I ever came along."

"Fill me up again?"

Intent on ignoring Seungcheol, you belatedly realize how aggressive your request comes across. You're also eager for something to help soothe ache in your chest. It comes and goes like a bad toothache — manageable enough to forget about the pain until it returns tenfold.

Thankfully, Wonwoo meekly complies with the back tips of his ears tinged red and Seungcheol barely manages to hide his extreme amount of mirth for the situation behind another glass. In the dim lighting, at certain angles, and with another shot of whiskey settling into your system, you conclude that the handsome saloon owner could certainly pass as Seokmin's brother and vice versa.

But you know the truth.

Familiar with the one who's all too identical to the infamous gunslinger, yet entirely different altogether. Irritation flares in your gut, prickling harsh enough that even the burn of alcohol fails to drown it out.

"I'm turning in for the night."

"Smartin' idea."

"Don't get too smashed."

"You should get smashed."

"Bye, Choi."

Tipsiness is a great excuse to bump purposely into him as you get off the stool. It's only thanks to his genetically enhanced metabolism that the pastor's able to stay upright. He grumbles something that's likely insulting, but standing upright causes you to realize you drank way too much. Everything spins or sways, including your body as you stumble up the stairs.

Somehow, you safely make it to the second level. Above the saloon is a hallway of small bedrooms that Wonwoo generously loans out to routine drunkards or stray travelers. It takes a few minutes of fumbling around but you finally find the lock that matches the first of its paired key and tumble face-first into (thankfully clean) bedsheets.

A hazy mix of drifting in and out of consciousness follows. It's not until the door clicks and there's an ominous creak of floorboards followed by a noticeable presence creeping up at your side that fully rouses you from the feverish dreams of gunfire, explosions, and loss that still plague your mind to this day.

You roll over, intending to assume both an offensive and defensive position against the nighttime visitor, but a hand lands on your shoulder before you can. Still sluggish, there's no way you could ever hope to outmatch the humanoid typhoon, even at your best.

"Hey, you."

It takes a bit for your eyes to adjust to the darkness after hearing his voice — and then there he is. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Seokmin greets you with a fond, megawatt grin. The thumb of his cybernetic prosthesis gently traces little circles over your bare skin. There's a faint hum and glow from its advanced tech mechanics, paired with moonbeams from the window, casting off an ethereal radiance.

"So, you're staying here tonight?"

"But of course, isn't that why you sent such a cute little cherub my way?"

Ah, Lina. You unwittingly smile, remembering how joyful she was to accomplish her mission.

Then your eyes close, nose wrinkling at the copious stench of mixed perfumes and alcohol he brought in and refusing to acknowledge what he says.

"You hella reek."

"Says the one who drank over seven shots."

"… That preacher's a fuckin' tattler. And a liar. And a total scammer. Don't fall for him, Seok."

"Now, what makes you think Seungcheol told me, hm?" He leans down almost nose-to-nose, enough to make yours scrunch even more at the buzzing feeling of how near he is. Your eyes open to squint at him and he winks. "Silly boy tried to mess with god again and max out his intake. Spoiler alert, he failed. Mingyu dragged him back to his room."

"You're the only one I know who can call Choi a 'silly boy'."

"'Cause that's what he is."

"And you need to stop acting like my babysitter!"

You shift away from his gorgeous face and he leans back to give you space, sporting a smug grin. "Then who would take care of you, mayfly?"

"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?"

"Be nice to me and maybe I won't keep count on how many glasses you down next time," he teases. "But since I'm so kind and forgiving, would you like a nice, warm, relaxing bath?"

Well, it did sound wonderful. TMI, but cleanliness was a luxury when traveling the desert. Even more so when the places you arrived at had Plant issues. Luckily, Seokmin was more than capable of fixing them but even then, circumstances varied. Especially around the one known across Gunsmoke as mankind's first localized human disaster.

"Only if you get one, too."

It slips from your mouth without a thought. But you might as well have told Seokmin you'd gotten him a box full of doughnuts with how delightedly he clasps his hands together.

"As you wish, m'lady!"

And he treats you like one, scooping you up into his arms in a princess-style carry. At least tonight you're more willing to let him do as he wishes, especially when he discards the perfume-infused outerwear. Whiskey, sleepiness, and the smooth material of his undershirt keep you pliant and cuddly well after he'd snatched you off the bed.

Seokmin's already ten times stronger than even a human like Mingyu and his prosthesis only helps take further advantage of that fact. He easily deposits you on the edge of the tub. Normal routine would require untying the tight laces on your combat boots but since you'd kicked them off prior to resting, he skips to the next step.

Deft fingers make quick work unbuttoning your shorts, the prosthetic digits of his left hand then moving to loosen the straps that keep your top on. His other hand holds them together in a pseudo-knot to keep the material in place.

Honoring a sense of modesty, you suppose — even though you've seen each other unclothed before. But you melt into the secure press of his palm paired with the support of his chest against your back as he leans over to turn on the water.

"Let me know if it's a good temperature."

"M'kay."

"You're so agreeable when drunk!"

"And you're still just as annoying."

"Okay, okay," he relents. Amicably even.

Seokmin never enjoys butting heads like Seungcheol constantly does. Although another "mayfly," gets tacked on to the end of his playful yield in a mischievous tone because if there is one thing, it's that he can never tease you enough.

Brown eyes quietly trace the ink and scars that mark your skin, some disappearing or completely hidden beneath the parts that are covered. Finally, they land on the silver chain around your neck, only a breadth away from the tip of his fingers that suddenly twitch at how soft you feel beneath the calloused roughness of his own skin.

You let out a little sigh and it shakes him from his reverie, noticing the tub's filled up past your calves. Guiding one of your hands to where the locket lies beneath your clothes covering your chest, he stands. "Call me if you need anything or just want help getting out, m'lady."

"'Kay."

You're already stripping bare but Seokmin breezes out the door before you can blink. You sigh again and slip into the hot water, enjoying a soak to ease the heaviness you feel.

It's hard to understand this emotional turmoil. Knowing that you don't enjoy feeling this way, you make a false promise to not drink ever again, staying submerged in the water until your fingers wrinkle.

Maybe you fell asleep, maybe you didn't. There's a bathrobe laid on the sink when you're ready to get out that you don't remember from before but who knows. Who cares? It's cozy and you haven't felt this clean in a while.

"All yours," you lazily declare, stepping into the bedroom.

Seokmin perks up from where he casually sits cross-legged on the bed, fiddling with Geranium. A dopey smile lights up his face, gaze moving from the hefty nickel revolver and zoning in on you.

"All mine?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah," he repeats quieter, more to himself, "all mine…" But when you unconsciously shiver, his eyes flash and brows furrow. "C'mere, I warmed the bed up for you."

"Aren't you going to bathe?"

"Yep, so don't miss me too much, my dear mayfly!"

He accompanies it with a saucy wink and saunters into the bathroom, humming. You find yourself in a bit of a daze, head and cheeks holding onto the heat of the steam from your bath (and more). You change into a light tank and cotton shorts before sitting back down. As promised, where Seokmin rested was indeed warm and smells of faint gun smoke that always brings back memories.

"Total slaughter…!"

Splash!

"… Total slaughter…"

Splash!

"I won't leave… a single man alive."

Splash! Splash!

"La de da de dai~," echoes from the bathroom. "Genocide…"

Splash.

"La de da de duh," splash, splash, splash, "an ocean… of blood."

"Let's begin… the killing time."

Seokmin possessed a lovely melodic voice no matter how nonsensical or gruesome the words he sang. Your eyes close with relaxation as he continues into a different tune. Though the lyrics are definitely more hopeful this time, there's a heavy sense of underlying desolation despite the rapid, upbeat tone.

"So…" splash, "on the first evening," splash, "a pebble from somewhere out of nowhere drops upon the dreaming world…"

You think back to how he silently cried when he thought no one was looking after a young stowaway on the sandsteamer broke into the same nostalgic song. Your heart aches in empathy for the woman whose heroic sacrifice saved humankind but left behind irreparable damage to twins she adored.

Rem Saverem.

She was to Seokmin as what Saint Meryl was to you. But your fondness for the nun who dared to favor one random orphan above the other equally ordinary ones with an unprecedented amount of kindness paled in comparison to the devotion Seokmin exhibited for Rem. Her kindness, hope, and love for and of life didn't simply become Seokmin's philosophies — they were a true part of every fiber, woven into his very being.

He was peculiar. Hardheaded — or in Seungkwan's affectionate term: a hardass — when it came to nonviolence. A true pacifist. Even when enemies held him at gunpoint, allies turned their backs on him, and his choice to always save was at the very cost of his well being… Seokmin would choose to tear himself apart limb by limb before ever causing damage or letting harm come to another.

And even if he always chose the world and those living in it first before anything else, that's what you loved the most about him.

"What's got you making that face?"

You're quick to school whatever expression it might be. Your tongue feels fuzzy. You purse your lips as he lumbers closer, freshly dressed in a comfy white long-sleeved shirt and black sweats.

"What face?"

"You know, the one where something's weighing on your mind."

The bed frame dips and squeaks when he flops down to snuggle against you. Still-damp, reddish-brown bangs lay across your shoulder and dampen your skin. The chilled press of the gold hoop in his left earlobe raises bumps wherever it touches as he endearingly nuzzles you.

"There is."

"Tell me."

"You need to dry your hair properly."

"Do it for me."

"… This is on purpose, isn't it?"

Nevertheless, you take the unused towel around his neck and vigorously rub at his head. No complaints or protests defending his honor come from Seokmin. Just the usual little trills of contentment escape as he leans into your touch. Once you're satisfied the job's done well, he plucks the towel from your hands and you fix him with a stern look.

"Well, Seok? You gonna answer me?"

He curls in on his lanky frame, enough so to find room to plop his head pitifully onto your thighs and nuzzle the bare skin with his nose. "Not if you won't answer me first."

"You."

"Hm?"

"Was… thinking about you."

"Oh, really? Dreaming about how cool, dashing, handsome, and awesome I am?"

"… Yeah. I like you."

He chuckles, closing his eyes. More so at the feeling of your fingers idly playing with his strands of hair than seriously taking what you say. "I like you, too!"

"No, I mean," you jostle him harshly as you shift anxiously, tugging a little too hard at his roots. "Something's wrong with me."

"… Mhm yeah, you've been drinking."

"Goddamnit, Seok… that was like hours ago! But… what if… what if I'm in love with you?"

Your fingers retract like you've been caught red-handed stealing Mingyu's pudding and a millisecond later, Seokmin's head flies off your lap as he sits up to stare incredulously at you and can only gasp out one word, "What?"

It comes out more like a statement than a question. You've seen all kinds of emotions appear in those clear brown eyes of his. Emptiness. Excitement. Happiness. Fear. Loneliness. Mysteriousness. Pain. But now, you can hardly make sense of what turmoil is swimming in those murky depths.

"There's no way," he shakes his head — laughter high and brittle. "Fake", is what Seungcheol occasionally points out whenever he spies the gunslinger's smile. You've never believed him until now. "You're drunk."

Seokmin's been hurt before and you know that. It's why you wish for him to be nothing but happy, that there's some truth to the joy he constantly tries to radiate. Hoping some parts are really healing, that he's giving time to let the bloody wounds coagulate — if even just a little.

"It's me. I mean, I'm the one that's drunk," he reiterates, shaking his head.

"Why are you acting like that?"

"… Like what?"

Perhaps you were too hopeful.

"Like I'm making some sort of mistake. Like I'm wrong about this. About us."

And still under the influence of the too-damn-strong alcohol.

"It's… none of that, it's just…"

"You think I don't know what I'm talking about."

"Well, do you?" he fires back rather harshly, "'cause you're still wearing that thing and —"

You wince as his voice breaks off, palm instinctively flying to where the locket rests. "What the hell does that have to do with anything right now? I thought we were over this! Years ago!"

"Maybe you were since you continue to stubbornly follow me everywhere!"

"I'm not the only one!"

"Yeah, 'cause no one ever listens to me!"

"I always listen to you, Seok. Even if the words that come out of your mouth don't match how you actually feel —"

"You don't know how I feel!"

Silence.

Seokmin's chest heaves, wide eyes taking in how you immediately freeze. That look, oh, that look on your face could kill him and his body moves on auto-pilot to stand, directing his gaze to stare daggers into the floorboards. Begging them to rip off like a bandaid and shield him from your wrath.

The wood beneath his feet groans, shaking ever the slightest.

"You're right. How dare I?"

"Wait, mayfly… I —" he switches gears with a plea of your given name.

"And obviously, you have no fuckin' idea how I feel." Now it's your turn to let out a disingenuous chuckle, fake humor cracking under the pressure of sadness it's struggling to mask. "You think all I'm after is revenge more than the actual thought even crosses my mind. You put on this show that nothing bothers you, make assumptions that no one can keep up with you, that you can do it all on your own."

"No, that's not… that's not what I meant! You know how dangerous —"

You stumble ungracefully off the bed, flinching away when Seokmin's words break off as he automatically reaches out. For you. To support and for support.

Yet, it hurts all the more.

"But what do I even know? How can I, when you keep everyone at arm's length? It's like… it's like I don't even know who you are! Like you're someone else, someone I'll never get to understand…"

To others, it might not make sense, possibly the dumbest thing you could say — especially with the state you're in. But you know Seokmin, a fact he's subconsciously taken comfort in.

But you also know Seokmin. Which means you know the exact place to hit him where it hurts the most.

And suddenly, those words you say propel him back into a moment from the past, body free-falling in the sky.

Yelling. Crying. Screaming. Pleading.

Begging that exact phrase and being demanded of the same accusation. All from the one who's falling with him. Whose face mirrors his own, but couldn't be more different in that crucial and devastating moment.

His brother. His twin. His other half who was once his everything — now a total stranger from the person he thought he knew.

A fifty-year-old reunion that should've been a reconciliation, turned into a doomsday.

And for you, the once simple toothache pain is now overwhelming your full body and you refuse to let him see how it's dampened your cheeks. Especially when you hear the pained whisper of the name that escapes his mouth when you're the one that triggered those awful memories. Staggering to the door, you yank it open and he instinctually takes a step forward.

Don't leave me.

You hear the unspoken plea as clearly as if spoken aloud.

"Don't follow me," is what you hiss out instead, and just like when you first met, Seokmin obeys.

When Seungkwan makes room arrangements — if there is enough money to spare when needed and the options are available — he books everyone their own private space. More often than not though, he and Mingyu share a room and so do you and Seokmin.

Out of everyone in the group, you're the only one who is used to putting up with Seokmin's idiosyncrasies and the constant white noise of the cybernetic prosthetics's technology. You've rarely paid mind to having your own space unless Seokmin gets in one of those rare 150-year-old moods and wants some time by himself. Rare in nature, because he doesn't enjoy being left alone with his thoughts that threaten to consume him.

But he'll have to make due tonight. For the first time, you're extremely grateful for Seungkwan's pro-activeness.

You lock the door, crawl into a fresh cold bed, and wet a new pillow — one that lacks the comforting scent of gun smoke — with unshed tears.

For all his short-tempered and sassy mannerisms, Seungkwan is quite the worrywart. When the suns have peeked past the horizon and you're not already downstairs bullying Seungcheol, he's immediately knocking at your door and inquiring about your well-being. You assure him you're just hungover and he reluctantly leaves you be, likely picking up on how terrible you really do sound.

By high noon, Mingyu raps on the door next. He even sweetly offers to share his prized pudding in the hopes that you'll peek your head out. Though you appreciate it, you send him away, too — after reassuring the sensitive man you'll feel better after some rest.

Seungcheol doesn't miss the chance to be annoying times ten. He doesn't indulge in the effort of knocking, opting to make the floorboards squeal by pacing back and forth in front of the door. All the while, muttering this and that about "yer boy's like a pathetic dog and blah, blah, blah" until getting very kindly told to "fuck off!" and dragged back downstairs by a certain raven-haired insurance agent.

Even Seokmin checks in. Four times.

Once and then twice after you'd left and he'd figured out which room was yours. Then two more visits throughout the following day. He doesn't exactly make his presence known — but you know he knows you know he's out there.

If not by the distinct gait you've picked up on listening for after all this time, then by the hesitant thuds of combat boots lingering outside your door. Lost technology whirring with the action it takes to make a fist with his left hand, raising it up to the door and then back down again in self-inflicted defeat.

You refuse to see anyone, choosing to pity yourself first. Wallowing in your feelings and then sleeping as much of the heartache — and more so the hangover — away.

When the moons are visible in accordance to their nightly orbit, you get up to fuss with the mini VERnon in the room's corner. Nothing but static greets you. At the very least, the white noise is better than complete silence. By the time it's morning, you slowly awaken to the virtually enhanced radio trying to catch onto a faint signal. Enough to report the latest news in snippets with its mechanical voice.

"Beast… reported… Tonim town… !"

Your eyes fly open. Now is not the time to be wasting away. Donning a clean set of attire similar to what you wore into town — and with Sirocco strapped comfortingly to your thigh — you descend downstairs.

"Good morning!" Mingyu cheerfully greets with a delighted shout of your name and eagerly waves you over to sit next to him, waving around a promised cup of pudding. "Are you feeling better?"

"Mhm, thanks. Sorry about that, whiskey here sure is strong."

"'S one helluva killer," Seungcheol sulks across from you, still sporting a massive headache and looking worse than that one time Seungkwan hit him with the car.

"You're just weak."

"Wha'zat say 'bout you?"

"Since I can equally acknowledge both my strengths and weaknesses, that makes me infinitely stronger than you'll ever be."

Seungkwan wordlessly hands you a bowl and you graciously accept it. Next to the pastor sits Seokmin, unnaturally quiet. You don't even spare him a glance even though brown eyes burn into the side of your face until you glare his way.

The stack of doughnuts on the plate in front of him remain untouched — minus the smudged icing on one that was likely from Seungcheol trying to swipe it. Evidently, Seokmin was in low spirits if he didn't want to consume his favorite desserts. But, he is still prideful enough to prevent anyone else from snatching the prized delicacy.

How typical.

An awkwardness ensues, charged with an underlying current of tension. A vein forms in Seungkwan's forehead from his blood pressure rising.

Its pulse matches the twitch in the corner of his fake smile as he attempts to make conversation, to which Mingyu — oblivious and happy-go-lucky as ever, bless his heart — replies enthusiastically. Seungcheol stares listlessly into space, twirling a lollipop around and around with his tongue. Next to him is a soul acting like a thunderstorm's personally pouring over him. Seokmin starts pitifully poking at his grand doughnut pile while you ferociously tear into a piece of bread like it's the last supper before swallowing.

"Soonyoung's coming."

Your unexpected, but welcomed, interruption ironically pauses Seungkwan's second diatribe about Hansol's calamitous ingenuity. If possible, the apprehension in the room intensifies tenfold.

Seungkwan raises an eyebrow. "How'd you hear?"

"Tuned the VERnon last night."

"'Course you did."

"Something about the Beast and Tonim came through. Not for sure but…"

"It never hurts to be too prepared!"

"True, 'Gyu. 'N if Soonyoungie's gonna be there, ya know what that likely means…"

You nod in understanding at Seungcheol's implication. "The Crimsonnail."

Seokmin's jaw clenches at the name but it's the disgruntled pastor who continues speaking after a hearty and loud gulp of water. "'Course the Eye of Joshua's gonna send their best two. Soonyoungie's Hoon's eyes 'n ears for these kinda things."

"Or… it could be Jeonghan."

Your noncommittal remark receives Seungcheol's scathing glower. "Bet."

"It wouldn't be the first time," you shrug.

"There haven't been any notable disturbances and the ground's been stable. So hopefully their only goal is to simply antagonize us further."

Antagonize.

A funny word for such a twisted coin game between a hunter and the hunted. You can't and don't blame the younger Bernardelli agent — only you were privy to most of the true horrors Seokmin dealt with behind the scenes, Seungcheol a close second. And because of that, you were usually the one at his side before an encounter with Jihoon and the ever lingering threat and terror of said man's monstrous power.

But today, you get up from the table without so much as a glance in his direction. Only a parting command of "Let's regroup near the entrance at high noon," while Seungkwan and Mingyu exchange looks of minor distress.

The black-haired man in his hangover blues obnoxiously blows a raspberry as you leave.

Later, there are two solid knocks on the door as you get ready. You know who it is before the door swings open after your agreeable hum to enter. Many may be intimidated at the sight of the silver weapon in your gloved hands. Seungkwan and Mingyu make up half of the quartet who aren't.

They take a seat on the bed as you purse your lips at the reflection in the dusty mirror. Then you fuss with the strap for your gun. Satisfyingly re-securing it around your thigh before throwing a carmine trench coat over tight kevlar that covers almost every inch of skin possible.

"Surprised you didn't dye everything else black during a fit of rage."

Your lips curl upwards. "How on Gunsmoke would I manage that?"

"With the way you're acting, 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned…' or so the saying goes."

"Really, 'Kwan?"

"I'm an avid supporter of women's rights and especially their wrongs."

"Sure you are."

"You would absolutely look dashing!"

"Thanks, Mingyu. Should've given my color scheme a little more consideration."

"But then you wouldn't have achieved such an infamous moniker. I mean, okay. Maybe the black plague killed tons of Earthlings eons ago but it doesn't have the same ring as 'Sirocco, the bloody rain that follows after the humanoid typhoon'…"

Seungkwan allegedly graduated at the top of his class, leave it to him to spew out all kinds of random facts that you know nothing about. You huff and adjust the brim of the large hat atop your head.

"All that does is make me cringe."

"Uh-huh, so what's making him act like that?"

"Who's acting like what?"

"Fine, keep playing dumb. Did you reject Seokmin or something?"

Mingyu gasps. Dramatically. Hands on cheeks and mouth open in a wide 'o' shape, puppy-dog eyes glistening with despair.

"There's no way!"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Uh-huh."

"Besides, nothing happened so don't think you're gonna wheedle out of me whether you're going to win that stupid bet you two have going with Choi."

"Eh, don't worry. I've been out of the running for a while now, unfortunately."

"The hell did you even throw for?"

He shoots you a deadpan look. "Guess who's aged eighty years watching the two of you dance around each other like dumbasses? Could've sworn you'd be married with a toma farm or a dozen little children by now."

"It's your own damn fault for falling victim to that pastor's salacious schemes. And it's not even remotely like that, so…"

"Someone just doesn't wanna give in."

You stomp your foot, frustration boiling over. "Ugh, I'm never drinking again!"

"Wait… No fucking way…!"

"Literally shut up, Boo."

"I mean Choi did bet you'd confess and you know… get intimate afterwards… if you were drunk so…"

"Oh, so that's why he was so damn pushy last night."

"Dirty cheater."

"You expect anything less from someone like him?"

A sigh. "No."

It's a well-known fact that Seungcheol would rather stoke the flames of hell than ever needlessly dabble with holy water as one might be expected to with his chosen career.

"But judging by both of your moods, evidently nothing happened." The raven-haired man really has the gall to look disappointed that no one won yet pleased Seungcheol didn't, and the gall to point out the obvious. "Anyways, what did you bet on, Mingyu?"

"Don't recall!"

"Figures." Seungkwan's face falls flat against his palm with a groan before dragging it wearily down his face. "Whatever, it's not like it's that serious. Seriously," he adds on, feeling the burn of your perpetual glower. "Don't let it weigh on your mind. We need you fully focused."

"And when have I ever been less than what's expected of me?" You hold up a hand. "Wait! Don't answer. But really, worry more about that idiot."

"Aw, see? You still care!"

"… About that sixty billion bounty, Mingyu? Yeah."

"Sure you do."

"And truthfully, I was talking about Choi, 'Kwan."

"Well, both of them always get into those zany headspaces!"

You shrug at the tall man's truthfulness. "They're both holding a lot of trauma and baggage."

"And you aren't?" Seungkwan snorts with sarcasm dripping from the dig.

"At least mine's manageable. And… hasn't threatened your lives yet."

"As far as we know."

"In fact, I think I've saved your 'so-very-untraumatized' lives more often than not. Stay with me and you'll both be okay."

They good-naturedly give you individual looks of disdain. Perfectly in sync when you accompany that last statement with a devilish smirk and a twirl that flares out your tail coat with a flourish. By no means are they incapable. Clumsy Mingyu can adeptly wield his massive concussion gun when it counts, of course, and Seungkwan stealthily hides several derringer 'throwaway' pistols under his white cloak that he can fire with deadly precision.

Nonetheless, they loyally flank to your side when Tonim's bell tower signifies the hour of high noon has struck. Seungcheol meets the three of you outside the door of the saloon, smoking a cigarette and one arm lazily draped over the Punisher — a terrifying machine gun mockingly designed in the burdening shape of a merciful cross.

You spot Seokmin up ahead. He's standing on the low border wall near the town's entrance, perched next to a pillar for back support with the heel of his boot propped up behind him. Decked out in the usual galaxy ensemble, purple fabric cut off at shoulder-length of the top left sleeve to allow free range of movement for his prosthesis. His hair's slightly gelled up for a more intimidating and dramatic flair and it almost makes you giggle.

But there's that stern gaze focused on the horizon, likely able to see far out into the distance through those amber lenses the human eye can't quite decipher. Despite such a hardened resolve, his head tilts slightly up toward the blue sky with a faint smile on his lips — an honoring appreciation for the beauty and wonder of life despite its inevitable horrors.

Seungcheol clicks his tongue to get your attention while Seungkwan and Mingyu keep walking ahead. "Spiky Hair thinks he's really gonna do it?"

"Won't stop until he's tried every last resort."

"Even if it kills 'im?"

"Even if it kills him."

"This damned situation 'cause of ya know who."

"Dokyeom. DK."

"Nah, nah. There's the asinine version, eh?"

"Absolute pain in my ass?"

He slaps his knee. "Ah, aye… good one! But nah, 's really stupid one, Deathly, uh, er…?"

"… Deadly Knives?"

"Pfft, yeah, 's that one. So, we gotta try 'n stop one genocidal brother from sweepin' out the whole human race 'n tryna convince greedy humans not to keep exploitin' 'em with the other. Back 'n forth again 'n again. I swear…'s only ever gonna be impossible."

"What makes you think it can't happen?"

He looks at you like you're stupid. Maybe you are. But what does that make him? "Both sides — humans versus DK — think they're right 'n too proud to think otherwise."

"So you don't think they'll settle for a compromise. Or at least try to see the other's viewpoint?"

"Hell naw. Ain't no compromisin' when both think they're justified in what they're doin'."

"Well, regardless — you joined a good cause, Choi. World could use a little more peace and love, don't you think?"

He grunts. "Lookit who's corrupted yer ideologies. Don'tcha know what destroyed Earth?"

"And do you know what saved humans? Kindness. Hope. Empathy. Compassion. Change. Making and being the difference. The good kind."

A long time ago, maybe in a different twist of fate, you might've staunchly agreed with Seungcheol. But despite it all, you've been somewhat changed — or like the pastor said, call it a corruption of sorts — by Seokmin's unwavering sense of positivity and kindness no matter how bleak the future.

You admired him. Truly.

"Un-fuckin'-'lievable."

Seungcheol shakes his head as if he's not gearing up, ready and raring to go as he stomps forward to join a fellow 'brother-in-arms'. The thought inwardly makes you smile with affection until you remember you're actually, in fact, mad at Seokmin.

A dust cloud stirs up on the horizon, steadily growing closer to where you stand.

"You're so full of goddamn self-flagellation."

The individual where all your ire is centered on jolts, doing a double-take at your sudden but familiar presence by his side approaching. Or maybe it was the mere fact you were talking to him again. A warm expression overtakes his facial features at the sense of calm that automatically relaxes the tension in his muscles as he looks down at you.

"Well then, hello to you too. Feeling better, mayfly?"

"… Remind me to never drink again."

"I told you —"

"Yeah, yeah." You wave away his nagging and step up on the wall to stand next to him. "Don't worry, I won't be making a mistake like that again."

"… Mistake?"

There's an edge to his tone. Searching. Sometimes you hate how perceptive Seokmin can be. Though he actively acts oblivious and carefree, it's usually a ploy to lower other's guard.

You wonder how long he's known.

So, you sigh. "I'm talking about drinking, of course. And… I wish I could say I forgot even if… I haven't. But it's fine, I know where I stand."

The latter part of your sentence trails off. It's true though. You do know — thankful you can even be next to Seokmin. You might not be with him but at the very least, your place will always be somewhere by his side. Affectionate flings may be sought elsewhere. But they're always temporary. In your heart of hearts, you know you're irreplaceable to him.

And that's going to have to be good enough for you.

The man in question scratches the back of his head. "It's not… it's not like that. I know I fucked up."

"Stop." You grip at his prosthetic, knowing despite how sensitive the sensors are, they won't be able to pick up how you slightly tremble. "It's okay. Really."

Who is it you're trying to reassure?

"Mayfly," Seokmin murmurs. "Look at me."

With the slightest hesitation, your gaze finally rises from its focal point centered on his boots and the stones beneath to meet dark brown eyes. The ache in the gunslinger's chest eases just a little. It's been far too long — a day, in actuality — since he's got to lose himself among the vibrant hues of your irises and he squeezes your free hand in gratitude.

"It's not okay, I want to talk to you. Sober. But…"

"I get it. Now's not the time for a heart-to-heart, especially not in front of your brother's henchmen."

You laugh, for real this time. The sight is breathtaking; it makes Seokmin's eyes crinkle, a fond smile to accompany his affection as he leans in closer to you to whisper a sweet, "Thank you."

Three sets of eyes try to make it very not obvious that they're very obviously totally not watching the overdue interaction with bated breath.

"Oh golly good, they've made up!"

"'Course they would."

"It's about time, I couldn't take the tension anymore."

"Don'tcha think it'll get worse once they start canoodlin'?"

"Good lord," Seungkwan groans, "perish the thought."

"What's wrong with a little love? Yay for love!"

"Well, I don't think they've made it that far yet. But we're getting there. Baby steps."

It would be a good cause for celebration, a resumption of last night's festivities. Unfortunately, the merry moment is cut short with a screech of brakes, signaling the arrival of Jihoon, DK's most elite performer in his unmerry band of henchmen.

Next to the feared Crimsonnail's suitcase sits Soonyoung the Beast. Silver strands peek out behind the unsettling, bug-like circular mask hiding his face. He casually waves, acting like the unnerving discovery behind the innocent, abandoned child — who went by Hoshi — was simply a facade initially put on around your group and not such a grand revelation.

Having sorted that out in the stomach of a giant flying worm serving as a hive mind for Gunsmoke's legion of its original inhabitants and swearing not to let your guard down again, all five of you remain on high alert.

Jihoon's steel-colored eyes flicker to Seungcheol. "Hello there, Undertaker. Or… should I say Judas?"

"Howdy dandy to ya too, ya son of a bitch," the pastor snarls, spitting his cigarette in their direction. Cursing under his breath when the distance and uselessness of the fizzling stub doesn't blow up the engine like he wishes it would.

"Now, now. You don't want to make me mad, do you?"

"Kinda wanna piss ya off as much as ya piss me off, yeah."

"Surely you know what —"

"He means nothing by it." You'd quickly abandoned your post next to Seokmin to place a hand on Seungcheol's taut shoulder. Boldly facing the blonde man's haughty expression with one that's hopefully placating enough on behalf of your comrade. "He's just grumpy because he's still hungover."

"Well, well… if it isn't the humanoid typhoon's little blood shower."

Ugh, you inwardly grimace, why the fuck does everyone have such unflattering nicknames for me?

"Still following him around, I see."

"'S a lot comin' from —"

" — Hasn't gotten rid of me yet!"

"… Seems it," Jihoon sniffs and cocks his head. "Similar to the dilemma I have with this persistent bug."

Soonyoung chortles, neck contorting at an unnatural angle to peer at the driver. "You love me."

"You're delusional."

"Why are you here?"

Seokmin's question comes sharp and pointed like a dagger, a far cry from his usual demeanor. His tone remains detached. Aloof. Vaguely accusatory. Unlike your harried action to cover for Seungcheol, you don't dare divert attention away from the gunslinger who stalks forward after elegantly hopping down from his perch. Despite an outwardly calm demeanor, there's an underlying urgency in his gait that's threatening to snap.

"For amusement. A show, if you will."

"One that's not even orchestrated by Joshua's freakish cult powers!"

Out of all the males surrounding you, you're not sure exactly who growls at the Beast's mere mention of the devil-like figurehead — in fact, it could've been all of them — but there's one noise that rings out above the din of it all.

Click!

You don't need super-hearing to pick up that telltale sound. Not when every person over the age of eighteen in Tonim has a cocked gun trained on each member of your ragtag gang.

"Uh, so… how many times is this?"

"One too fuckin' many," you answer Seungkwan with a petulant hiss and reluctantly mimic him by putting your hands up in the air.

Jihoon cackles. "And when will you fools ever learn?"

"'S my question, actually," the pastor nonchalantly calls over his shoulder, directed at the town's ringleader. "Didn't know ya had it in ya, boy."

You didn't think Wonwoo had it in him either, to be honest. But that's not something you were going to mention aloud with the shaky hold the bespectacled man has on the firearm waveringly aimed at his target — the one whose head is worth a 60 billion double dollars bounty, dead or alive.

"Felnarl. Jeneora Rock. Descartes. Dankin."

There's a faint twitch in one of Seokmin's eyebrows. Seungcheol rolls his eyes, sarcastically muttering under his breath an addition of location names, "Voldoor, Inepril, December, Lewiston…" and Mingyu joins in on the fun with a cheerful, "New Miami!"

Seungkwan watches warily and your jaw clenches. You can feel your teeth grind together in annoyance as Wonwoo's smarmy sneer grows smugger.

"And now, Tonim Town. What?" he jeers, seizing the chance to use the man's silence as a way to ridicule him. "Don't recognize what you've laid waste to? Must I bring up the big ones to jog your memory a little, like the city of July and Augusta or the hole in the fifth moon?"

"Why you —"

Enragement propels you a step forward, but the barrel swinging your way halts your next move mid-step. The sullen look on Wonwoo's face surprisingly holds no malice. He looks saddened, if anything, but you can't bring yourself to feel too much sympathy with the rifle he's now pointed toward you.

"You forgot one."

"Pardon?"

Seokmin's voice is hardly more than a whisper yet it rings out loud and clear amid the tense silence and stillness. "I said, you forgot one. There's not a name of any place or person I'd ever forget. I'm well aware of the ones you're talking about… and more. However, there's somewhere I won't ever forget that no one will ever know existed."

"… Huh?"

"Little Ivywood."

Wonwoo seems so taken aback and the pause unwittingly allows your eyes to drift over to meet Seokmin's brown ones. There are so many emotions conveyed in the sidelong glance — a mixture of regret-filled feelings yet ever so soft — and it lasts a second too long to snap the befuddled aggressor out of his reverie.

"Oh… I see." He pushes up his glasses, the lenses glinting in the pale sunlight like a typical anime villain. The long gun lowers to the ground the same time as he throws back his head to let out a bitter laugh. "So that's how it is! All you do is take and take and take, Lee. Destroy, destroy, destroy; again and again and again!"

"Aye, ole chap's gone off his rocker."

"You've made an ally out of a would-be, should-be enemy and think other victims with their pain and grief don't exist?!"

"Wow," Seungkwan wrinkles his nose in disgust, "yeah… he's gone completely insane."

Mingyu hums in agreement. "A little unhinged! Off the rocks! Unstable even! When can I knock him out?"

You'd love to give the gentle giant the go-ahead. Really. But even so…

"Damn you ��"

"Stop it."

The townspeople's uncertainty and hesitance tells you all you need to know, especially when Wonwoo's hysteria leaves them even more perplexed. After years of handling a gun like a second arm, you can spot inexperience and fear of handling a dangerous weapon the second someone is near one. You lower your arms and step forward once more, confidence growing when he makes no move to threaten you further.

"You don't want this."

The corner of his mouth quirks upward, a rueful smile. "You know, I thought we really did share some camaraderie."

"We do."

"Yet you gallivant around with a monster like that?"

"He's not a monster."

"I should've known better, really, when the VERnons said you're the sirocco that follows after the humanoid typhoon. Heroes, my ass! I don't get it, how could you do that to others after what happened to you?"

To us?

It remains unspoken yet you can hear the intent of the accusingly barbed question. Two survivors of a wrecked hometown. Shared camaraderie hadn't been a lie. Even now as you meet the flickering fire in Wonwoo's eyes with a blazing flame in your own, all you can see is a reflection of your past and what you could've turned into in a possible future.

A cold gleam returns to his gaze as he takes your silence as defiance. Or maybe even shamelessness. "How could you turn a blind eye to such a bloody warpath of destruction when you know too well of the tragedy that's left behind?!"

"Isn't that what you're doing?"

"… Excuse me?"

"That's what all of you are doing right now," you declare loudly and some of Tonim's residents whose conscience stings have the decency to avert their eyes. Awareness of their actions seem to weigh down on them, guns lowering ever the slightest and the awkwardness encourages Seungkwan to speak up.

"We would've left peacefully tomorrow."

"But yer actions're gonna be the very cause of the destruction yer tryin' so damn hard to prevent."

"Because you took a bribe!"

There's a stilted, horrified, and collective gasp, so you try to remedy Mingyu's exclamation.

"It's because you let your malice sway you. Tell me, Jeon. What all did you lose?"

"My whole town. Then my parents. Almost my life and nearly Lina's too. My lover…"

"And your sense of self. Plus, the new life you've created here — and those things? Almost lost because of your own accord. Why would you destroy the few good things you're granted?"

Wonwoo's eyebrows scrunch as his face tenses. Your heart goes out to him despite everything, hoping to get your point across as you continue speaking.

"That doesn't negate the losses. The grief. The pain. It never goes away but… you can choose to clean out the wound, put some salve on it, and bandage it or let it fester and infect your body 'til it rots even your soul."

You can hear the shift in the sand as Seokmin approaches to stand next to you. He regards Wonwoo with a kind smile and the understanding, crescent-shaped squint of his eyes is like a punch to the other man's gut.

"…. I —"

" — It's your choice, Jeon. What did they offer you? Money? There are so many bets on July's militia lying about the payout. I mean, c'mon, there's no way a ruined city would have the funds."

"Yer Plant's no longer in red status, so ya won't need to barter no more."

"I'll throw in a better deal — let us go and I'll have Choi marry you and Sherry, free of charge."

His cheeks flush and you inwardly gloat, instincts right on the money. Seungcheol's jaw drops, absolutely flabbergasted, and the townsfolk exchange a few knowing snickers.

"If it's protection you need, we can figure that out too," Seokmin recovers and offers in a low voice. "And if Do — er, Knives — or his gang approached you with a deal, just know that they never hold up their end of the bargain."

"You're lucky you threatened us first. DK's side is a little too slash-happy and trigger-loving to resort to verbal methods. They're the ones you'd want to go after anyways, you see, this man and Knives are twins if you don't look close enough, they're eerily similar at the strangest moments. So the real story is that it's all just spiraled out of control."

"You mean…"

"I won't deny responsibility." Seokmin admits sternly. "It's true that I've wreaked devastation to many towns. Failed to save the people I swore to protect."

"But DK keeps forcing his hand to get Seok to join his genocidal cause. And every time he refuses to do so, his brother throws a tantrum and well, knives go flying everywhere. Literally."

"He's a little…" The gunslinger searches for the right word — and finding that there is none — cringes. "Dramatic."

You stare at him, aghast. "He cut your arm off!"

Wonwoo pales, swallows, and then grimaces, daring to ask, "So… I've had it wrong the whole time?"

"I guess not entirely." You shrug, also guilty as charged years ago. "And obviously not the first."

"And certainly not the last," Seungkwan pipes up.

The bespectacled man looks down at the ground. "I don't… I don't know… Do I even deserve this kind of treatment? This… mercy?"

"No."

With such a blunt answer, Seokmin's quick to protest with an admonishment of your name while Seungkwan and Mingyu suppress smiles at your straightforwardness. Seungcheol freely chuckles, lighting a cigarette.

And Wonwoo's face falls as remorse hits all over again.

"But," you smirk, "what have I told you?"

"Oh, ah… why destroy the few good things life grants me?"

"Good. You were listening. We might get along just fine, after all." You send him a teasing wink. "Camaraderie and all that be damned."

A sheepish look overtakes the man's previously hardened features. And suddenly he's laughing with his head thrown back like earlier, but this time it's with an unrestrained amount of joy. Relief. Hope.

"The ticket to the future is always blank, Wonwoo." Seokmin extends a hand and the other man takes it, the small grin on his face turning into a full-blown smile.

"Guns down, Tonim town. The rest of you, come on out! Let's celebrate!" He calls out to everyone, gesturing for your group to follow. "Drinks are on me to make up for this whole mess. I'm sorry for getting you all involved."

You turn around toward Seokmin, elation written all over your face that he readily mirrors. Just as you're about to grab his hand as he reaches out at the same time, there's a slow, loud handclap that sets off mental warning sirens blaring all over again.

"Conflict resolution. How very touching."

The velvety voice is deceivingly sweet. But beneath the dulcet tones lies a raw and wicked strength. It rings out clearly, even more so when the jubilant mood abruptly dies down as a new figure approaches.

"Aw, c'mon Joshie! Just when it was gettin' good!" Soonyoung whines and you belatedly realize you forgot all about the real enemies at the entrance gate, thinking they had grown bored and left.

"What about that was 'getting good'?"

The Beast huffs at Jihoon's surly attitude, more than likely pouting beneath his mask. "Was really lookin' forward to those free drinks…"

"We don't need drinks and we don't need you, Josh."

If there's one commonality between the adversary and your group, it's the shared disdain for the elegant-looking man dressed in all black fabrics with shiny leather buckles, and slicked-back locks to match.

"Hm. But I think you do."

Chilling ochre-colored eyes couldn't be bothered to look at you, drifting past you and Seokmin like you were nothing more than the grains of sand littering every surface on Gunsmoke. And like a marionette, your head automatically swivels to follow his line of sight, blood draining from your face when you realize what he's looking at.

Lina.

She breaks away from holding onto Sheryl's hand after they emerge from the saloon, bounding toward her brother with excitement all over her face. The arm that isn't supporting his firearm extends gallantly outward, ready to welcome her with a hug as he strolls to meet her halfway.

They're smiling at one another with so much adoration after the intensity from earlier. If you weren't fucking terrified, you'd wish Dokyeom was also there to see how pure a sibling relationship and affection should be.

Instead, your stomach lurches, and Seokmin hisses beside you. With your back turned, you can't see Joshua but you're sure he's smirking when Wonwoo's frame stiffens, body jerking as it moves beyond his control.

Hastily, he's cocking the rifle with expert ease and assuming the perfect position to fire it, something he previously displayed no knowledge on before. Wide eyes have no choice but to peer down the scope and he chokes at how it's unforgivingly aimed directly at his little sister.

She skids to a halt, ten paces away. Hesitant. Wary. Puzzled.

"… Wonu?"

It all plays out in slow motion as you reach for Sirocco, simultaneously screaming out to your friends to alert them and provide cover. Frantic panic swirls in the air like a sandstorm at the turn of events, but even more fear generates when the townspeople can do nothing but helplessly succumb to their limbs moving on their own too.

Despite every single effort and all of his muscles straining not to do it, Wonwoo's pointer finger on the trigger pulls back. It doesn't matter how much he struggles to fight for control, his body refuses to listen. Tears flow from his eyes even though he can't speak, can't yell, can't beg for forgiveness — the vehement sense of horror is the only thing able to overpower Joshua's terrifying control, leaking out a salty excess.

Bang!

Three gunshots ring out at the same time. You fire right before Wonwoo does and Seokmin follows two seconds later. Not because his reaction time is slower. But because he could see and calculate where the bullet's headed after you changed its trajectory by shooting at Wonwoo's barrel.

It doesn't end there.

Seokmin is a half-step closer to Lina and can move at an inhumane speed, diving into a tuck-and-roll to reach her moments before the residents have no choice but to open fire too.

You know he's fast enough to dodge bullets at close range, but the staggered distance spread out among all of those present in the town's square works little for that insane advantage. Instead, the skilled combatant focuses all his attention on shielding Lina beneath the loose flaps of his impenetrable trench coat. She clings tightly to his leg, whimpering.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you."

Continuing to mutter reassurances, he pats her fluffy brown hair with an unshaking cybernetic palm while the other rapidly points his revolver upwards to deflect a bullet that might've been lucky enough to shatter the bridge of his glasses. Then doing the same to one at five o'clock on his right. He angles his body this way and that as if a puppeteer is yanking the strings connected to his limbs to the perverse beat of an unheard tune. The few he misses land harmlessly against the thick kevlar material you're all wearing.

Meanwhile, your steady hand supports the familiar weight of Sirocco. Muscle memory aids you with cocking the gun as you run. Aiming at the closest group of people near them and then — bang!, bang!, bang! — snipe off the barrels on their guns in rapid succession, rendering them useless.

From behind, something flies past your face and nicks the top of your ear — one of the few places unprotected by bulletproof material — causing you to hiss. Scowling over your shoulder, you squint in the direction it came from.

While a complete bastard, Seungcheol is also the most resourceful ray of hope in a shootout like this. The Punisher's automatic artillery relentlessly fires shot after shot, destroying old and weather-beaten guns like they're empty, crushable soda cans. It's faster too. The trigger-happy pastor twirls it around maniacally, taking only the slightest care to not actually kill anyone.

You're a hundred percent sure it's because of Joshua's disturbing power that allows him to reanimate corpses rather than Seokmin's "Thou shalt not kill" lecture and pacifist philosophies that keeps the supposed 'god-fearing' man from snuffing out anyone's life this time around. Despite the bullets whizzing around, you know he'll fare alright with that healing serum of his — just as long as he doesn't overdose on it.

Mingyu rushes over to stand back-to-back with the pastor, x-shaped claws firing out of his 'stun-gun' and immobilizing many of his targets with ease. You can't help but grimace though, wondering if they'll sustain more brain damage from Joshua's nefarious telepathy or a well-meaning concussion that leaves them unconscious and no longer posing a threat. A solid steel object flies past the brown-haired man's head, knocking down the mind-controlled person who was trying to sneak up on him using a blind spot.

"Ooh, thanks, Seungkwan!"

"Pay attention, you blockhead!"

An empty derringer lays at said blockhead's feet and Mingyu kicks it away with a childlike glee. A brand-new loaded pistol is already in Seungkwan's right hand even as he throws away the one in his left toward someone approaching Seungcheol. The young man's never empty-handed for long because with another flashy twirl from out of his cloak and a new handgun is cocked, aimed, and fired.

Despite the distance and conditions, all three work together like clockwork. Different shaped and sized cogs all interconnected to succeed without causing too much harm. And you know you must play your part as well, turning your attention back to the few townsfolk that remain.

"Seokmin, switch!"

It's not like he needs the heads-up. The way you'd both been inching closer to each other every time your gun's fired already issued the forewarning. It's like a subtle tango performed by two fierce allies surrounded by deadly enemies. If you didn't know better, it's similar to an intricate sword dance.

But you knew how dangerous it was to play with knives.

The swift transfer of Lina's warm little body into your arms is a welcome comfort. Seokmin sends you a dazzling smile, one full of confidence at a successful swap.

"Hey there, pretty girl," you coo and your gloved thumb wipes away one of the tear trails cutting through the dirt smudges on her face. "You are so, so, so brave and I'm so, so, so proud of you."

"He," she sniffles, "my… my… br-brother. W-Wonu!"

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, you turn her to face the other way. "Everything's going to fine. I promise. Now, run to Seungcheol. He'll keep you safe while the rest of us finish this."

Seungkwan and Mingyu had effectively disarmed everyone on their end and now worked on dragging the town's unconscious residents inside the saloon and attending to any wounds. The pastor stood guard near the entrance with his Punisher staked firmly into the sandy ground. Although empty of ammunition, the machine gun still served a purpose as a great defender with its imposing cross shape.

With the target assuredly safe — out of sight, out of mind — the control Joshua has over those remaining falters and starts to lose its effect. In the brief lull, Seokmin dashes ahead to deliver a flying kick that helpfully unsheathes the dagger hidden in the sole of his boots, demolishing one more firearm in someone's grip before it can be used again.

Bang!

And with Sirocco's precision, the last two are destroyed as well. You match your comrade's grin and turn triumphantly to where the instigators still stand at the entrance.

There would be no casualties today. You and your comrades would make sure of that.

Joshua, stoic as ever, surveys the aftermath with an air of unbothered gracefulness. Jihoon fumes next to him. Panic spikes when Soonyoung can't be spotted at first until you spy him curled up in the car's front seat — asleep.

You fist bump Seokmin in high spirits. Then fearlessly meet a pair of deep orange eyes devoid of any emotion or warmth, a shift occurs in your smile. Confidence and satisfaction hone the corners of your mouth into a daring smirk and something about the bold taunt causes a rare flicker of humor to cross Joshua's lips. Whether it's scornful pity or simple mockery, you don't have time to figure it out because Jihoon snaps.

Nails.

Several of them fly through the air and their wielder's formidable namesake comes from the daunting color that makes the multitude of piercers look like thin streaks of blood against the pale blue sky. The spikes as long as spears are all fired from Jihoon's large suitcase-turned-crossbow that aims just shy of your left side.

Those steel eyes of his are as sharp as their color. The malice within them feels suffocating, so strong and heavy that it sucks all the breath straight out of your lungs. Only the pain from a nail grazing your cheek is enough to pull your attention away from drowning in the unnerving emotion and you put a hand up to the laceration to soothe the sting.

Wetness oozes from your skin, an unsettling feeling of sliminess accompanying the touch. Puzzled, your fingers retract and you ponder the sheer amount of red viscoelastic fluid coating them. There's so much of it pooling that droplets fall to the sand below while others dribble down past your wrist and under your sleeve, the stain blending right in with the fabric of your coat.

Drip.

"It's all your fault!"

Drip.

"Their blood is on your hands…"

Drip.

"Don't you feel guilty?"

Drip.

"Don't you feel responsible?"

Drip.

"Do you regret being the only one left to live?"

Drip.

Faces you know and voices you cannot recall overlap and echo. Unfamiliar frowning expressions and intonations you remember as once gentle now ridicule, belittle, and find every crack in your well-made armor. Insidious whispers weave inside, entangling themselves within the fragile support structures of your mind and very soul. They point and cackle to one another at such a sorry sight, only for you to realize you're angrily jabbing a pointer finger at your worthless reflection with those cursory words coming straight out of your own mouth.

Drip.

Your head turns robotically, like an early prototype of the lost technology Earthlings created. This time it's Sheryl who's the victim, helplessly well within the trajectory line of Jihoon's rage. Every muscle aches, weighed down by exhaustion. Your shoulder burns. Yet you still somehow find the strength within you to rush toward her, especially hearing Lina's desperate wail as she's held back by a grimacing Seungcheol.

Drip.

Like a comet, Seokmin blazes past. He skids to a stop, effectively shielding the woman right before impact. You're too slow to move. In fact, it feels like an out-of-body experience. As if you're nothing but a hologram inside the floating ship — an artificial intelligence projection with no other choice but to witness the horrors and observe tangible objects scuttle towards their inevitable doom without interference. You're left with no choice but to simply watch as the nails are propelled through the air with the intent to strike.

Drip.

Someone's screaming. Maybe it's you.

Drip.

The nails impale Seokmin without mercy. Strike after strike, they pierce straight through the material of his coat designed to repel only bullets and plunge deep within the muscles beneath his skin. One after the other. So many of them stick out of the man's backside like the skeletal bone formation for wings. He slumps to his knees, falling on top of a bewildered but unharmed Sheryl. When he only lays still with no further action, you're struck with the dreadful knowledge that he may never move again and it fills you with an unfathomable maelstrom of raw grief and anger.

Drip.

Suddenly, you're no longer drowning in invisible quicksand and can move freely again. There's zero hesitation in your now fluid movements — not even when the blond-haired man poises his crossbow directly at you this time. Pulling out the spare gun hidden near your hip, you blast the airborne spikes flying towards you without hesitation.

Bang!

More fall than you shoot. The anger, pain, and grief you wield is enough to tear them apart like they're nothing but worm larvae helplessly caught in a sandstorm. You stalk forward through the crimson ire that relentlessly strikes down, clearing a path that's littered with broken, twisted, and dented nails before resolutely aiming point-blank at Jihoon's forehead.

Click.

More people are screaming and the spiteful cacophony in your mind resumes. But your ears feel like they're filled with cotton and this time you're stuck underwater. Your chest rises and falls, trying and failing to collect yourself.

"… out of it!"

"Hyperventialing -"

"Goddamn it! Get ahold o'yerself, woman!"

The Crimsonnail sneers.

Your cheek stings.

The dissonance reminds you of the wound from before. But this time it feels like a sting, as if someone slapped you — albeit rather gently. Numb, you halt in place and cautiously raise your hand back to your surprisingly unmarred face. But rather than skin, you grasp onto something solid. Something familiar. Something kind. Something loving. Something safe. Something warm. Something that's yours — always has been and always will be.

Someone.

And then… you open your eyes — and find yourself staring directly into Seokmin's sparkling brown ones.

"Y-you're dead," you manage to choke out in disbelief and his eyes incredulously crinkle into half-moons at the statement to hide the tears brimming in them.

The soothing hand caressing your cheek moves to wrap around the barrel of the gun you're pressing to his forehead and he smiles disarmingly. As if what you just said was the funniest thing ever.

"I know, mayfly."

Part 2 | Read the whole thing on AO3

onlyseokmins: April 2024 ©

#ez.creates #svthub #svt.smut #dokyeom smut #dk smut #seokmin smut #lee seokmin smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #kpop smut #trigun au #svt au #seventeen au

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asherthehimbo · 3 months ago

Text

Guardians

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synopsis: when Yeosangs sickness worsens, the Hala-pack are forced to stay in unkown territory, all because their wolves had affections for the towns local doctor. They hope this doctor knows how to treat fish because Yeosang needs help, and his brothers are desperate.

word count: 8.3k (and 4 pictures)

warnings: Cursing, blood, knives(daggers), treating of wounds, treating of sickness, talks of death, screaming, possesive behavior kind of?, blood (obv cause wounds), suggestive thoughts (Mingi needs to FOCUS), mentions of torn snouts, old scars, uhm i think thast it?

notes: to those who don't know what a poet shirt is this is the specific shirt I'm referencing, Also PLEASE read the section named 'Guardians knowledge' for better understanding of refrences in the book itself before reading this chapter thank youuu (Guardians book of knowledge was DEFINITELY inspired by the books in the 'Grimm' series so anybody who watches that HIIIIII), also PLEASE remember to read the Creature lore to understand some things as this IS a fantasy book with my own lore for some creatures thank youuuu

Placing the clear, blue rimmed glass down on the placement cloth in front of you, you throw the drying cloth in your hands on your shoulder. Long white hair tied up lazily at the back of your head, white poet shirt hanging off your shoulders, its strings by your chest having been loosened the moment you bid farewell to your last patron for the night. Your necklace consisting of a dull orange fire stone remains barely concealed beneath your white shirt, its chain placed comfortingly around your neck. The angle your shirt is sitting may expose more of your chest than you would usually feel comfortable with showing in public, but currently it's only you and the Choi’s at the tavern.

‘Moon Tavern’ - the tavern you own- is open 24/7 on weekends, but closes at 11 pm on weeknights, for you have to ensure those on your side of the land, those in your village are ready the next morning for their duties. Unfortunately for your regulars it's a Thursday night, meaning closing time. Meaning cleaning up duty for you and those on your shift. You turn your head and scan around you, looking down both sides of the bar counter to ensure no glasses or coasters are left laying around before your eyes trail to the middle of the tavern where the Choi’s sit waiting for you.

Choi Beomgyu, a young man of 22 who you met when he was only 17, being banished to Obsidian, due to his seeing abilities, when the war came to an end, he became your second ever apprentice. Next to him sits Choi Yeonjun at the age of 24, a snake shifter who followed his friend all the way from their homeland and ended up right in your welcoming embrace.

They both work as waiters at the tavern, sometimes even performing with the band, always insisting on helping you close when you man the bar on night shifts- but never doing the same for your co-owner, you know the reason but pay it no mind.

Cracking your neck before stretching your hands above your head, your back curls in as your chest pushes out, causing the strings of your shirt to loosen even more. Beomgyu wolf-whistles from where he sits as Yeonjun starts chastising you for your actions. “I've told you so many times that that's not healthy Boss, if you’re having pain problems again you need to let Niki or Gyu look at you.” Yeonjun looks at you with a mock scolding gaze.

You scoff, finishing your stretch before looking at the boy- not man, boy because compared to someone of your age that is what he is, a boy, one of your boys. “And I've told you many times not to call me Boss, guess neither of us listen to the other'' you bite back before removing the cloth from your shoulder, placing it on the drying pole attached to the bottom of the bar counter on your end.

“Touche” Yeonjun replies as both he and Beomgyu stand up while you walk out from behind the bar, picking up your jacket and keys that was on the counter, the three of you start walking to the front door as you turn off all the lanterns you walk by, “well, I, for one, was delighted by the show given- so I humbly thank you” Beomgyu gives an over dramatic bow as he speaks, causing Yeonjun to roll his eyes and your lips to quirk up ever so slightly.

The three of you walk until you're outside the tavern, you make sure to lock it before you continue walking, there's a cold breeze tonight, almost calming as it nips at the parts of your exposed skin, the boys behind you shiver and snuggle more into their own jackets as they walk, one on each side of you, you on the other hand do not falter in your steps. Despite your love of warmth you've grown quite accustomed to the cold nights that seem to accompany the dark sky of Obsidian.

You reach the part in your path where you and the boys should split, while they live more to the center of the town, in a neighborhood along with the rest of your pack, your home is located on the outskirts next to the river that separates your land between its two regions. You turn to say goodbye but catch Beomgyu staring at you in a worried manner, his eyes glowing a faint- barely noticeable purple “The water will shine a luminous blue tonight as nature’s soldier will be hurt, and the singers rock will form” you tilt your head inquisitively but when he doesn't say anything else you leave it be.

Seers cannot control the amount of information they are given and Beomgyu would've told you if there was something else. You nod your head in understanding before placing your hand on his shoulder, you look down at him and smile in a reassuring way, “I’ll be safe, don’t worry my little videns “ Beomgyu’s head tilts to rest on your hand at your words.

“I don’t know if I’m fine with letting you walk home alone now..” Yeonjun looks like he’s contemplating following you as he bites the inside of his cheek but you quickly shut him down, “Jun, I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself, you two need to get home, you have a shift tomorrow morning”. Yeonjun huffs “Yeah with Tea-moo, I don’t think either of us really mind being late for that one” he rolls his eyes as his arms are crossed over his chest, pouting like a child. “He’s still your leader Jun, you should respect him” you scold the boy, knowing your words won't have any impact now as they hadn't before, not on this topic.

“You’re our leader Boss, he’s the guy who you let be the leader and we both know it.” Yeonjun’s distaste for Tea-moo was never a secret, it caused a lot of tension in your pack, but neither he nor Tea-moo made an effort to fix the strain. “Jun I’m not having this conversation again.” you reply sternly, “I’m going home, you two need to do the same. Niki is probably waiting for you and I don’t want him staying up too late we have lessons tomorrow”

Niki, your first apprentice, your little shadow dragon, your son. He lives with you most of the time but often spends nights over at the Choi’s, the three of them act like brothers and it comforts your heart to know they have each other. You’re currently busy teaching Niki everything you know as the boy wants to follow in your footsteps, become a healer and not a destroyer as shadow dragons are often depicted.

“Fine, but if anything feels wrong even in the slightest the you scream, alright” Yeonjun needs that reassurance at least. “I doubt something to that extent will happen Jun”, you don’t want to promise him you would, because a banshee’s scream is a deafening one, it’s not something to be used lightly and something you've only used a handful of times. “Promise me” he does not relent.

“If it gets to that extent, I will scream to alert you.” You nod to him and his tense shoulders seem to relax a little. As Beomgyu lifts his head from your hand on his shoulder both of them come closer to hug you as a goodbye. You hate lying, but you know you won't scream, to resort to such measures is simply not something you're capable of doing. You’ve only used your scream once in your life, and you dread something of the like happening again.

You watch as they walk the opposite direction, walking as one, two halves of a whole. A feeling of contentment stirs in you, despite whatever Beomgyu’s vision foretold you know they’ll be safe, and that's all you could ask for.

“No”, Mingi’s voice is firm, almost angry sounding as his jaw clenches in an effort to not yell at the others in the room. “I told you all, he’s mine-'' his words are interrupted with Yunho’s introjection of "ours” ‘-He’s ours, I’m not bringing you guys to him.” Mingi finishes.

He’s standing with his back leaning against the wall, everyone is gathered in the kitchen, most sitting, except for Yunho- who's standing right next to Mingi- and San who's standing behind Wooyoung. “Mingi, Yeosang is sick, he needs help and it’s something nobody here knows how to deal with. We can’t travel with him in this condition so we are stuck on this island- one that isn't our territory. You say this guy is a doctor, he might know how to help. San’s knowledge of herbs can only get us so far.” Hongjoongs voice is calm as he tries to reason with Mingi, but you can hear the sharp edge of authority it holds as he sits at the head of the table.

“A human doctor, yes, how do we know he’ll be able to help Yeosang?” Yunho’s voice isn’t as strained with anger as Mingi’s, but you can hear his hesitance. ”He lives in a region known for harboring two of the most regal packs, I’m quite sure he’s probably aware of our species, may have even encountered many, he may know at least something that could help us, or point us in the direction of someone who could.” Seonghwa says as he sits beside Hongjoong, his voice flows calm, a sharp contrast to their leaders iciness’ Seonghwas reflects the warmth that’s permanently buried in his chest, but everyone can tell he’s just as worried about Yeosang.

Yunho’s stomach churns at the idea of you having met, let alone interacted with other supernatural creatures as Mingi lets out a low grumble in discontempt. “Listen, I know you guys have some weird possession kink or something over this guy, but Yeosang needs help. Do you really want him to die simply because you couldn't control your jealousy for a few hours?” Jongho asks, annoyed and his words cut deep.

Yunho turns to Mingi, while Yunho may be hesitant he doesn't want Yeosang to die. But Mingi has known you longer, there's a sort of seniority there, Yunho knows how much you mean to Mingi. Fuck you mean just as much to him, but he knows how Mingi’s mind works, he knows he’s not the one that gets to make this decision. Mingi in turn is stone faced, but Yunho can tell he’s conflicted. “Just for a check up? Nothing more?” Mingi asks, voice seeking confirmation in the same vulnerable way a child would from a parent, and the whole room takes a breath of relief.

“Only a check up, we only want to know if he can figure out what’s going on with Yeosang” Hongjoong confirms. After a moment of silence, and another shared look with Yunho, Mingi speaks again “Fine, but you let me and Yunho go in first, explain to him the situation. He doesn't know about us, about this, I want to explain to him first, I need to. Need to have him hear it from me”

The others all nod in agreement as they move to get ready to take Yeosang to your place. Mingi can’t help the anxiety building within him, he doesn't know what he’d do if you hate him after this. Even worse if you’re scared of him after this. He doesnt think he could go on living if you were. He hates the idea, the thought of losing you, loathes it even.

Mingi walks into the room where Yeosang lays on the bed, his skin sickly pale, unnatural and different from the usual light tan the siren has. His lips are chapped and parts of his skin are molting, eye’s closed as he’s barely breathing. San is holding a cold water cloth to his forehead in an effort to try and cool down the sirens fever. Jongho sits at the other side of the bed, he’s taken Yeosang’s sickness the hardest besides Wooyoung and San, solidarity in species and all. Mingi looks at Wooyoung who's standing a bit away, Wooyoung's scared to get too close to his friend, scared his natural heat will only worsen Yeosong’s temperature. It must hurt, not being able to be there for his best friend, and Mingi feels guilt at his apprehension on letting you treat Yeosang, after all that means he’s the one separating these two.

He stands next to Yunho, sharing a look before starting to walk again as he makes his way to the front door, Yunho following. The breeze of the night hit him as the sky began to dusk. The moon is shining brightly, almost as if illuminating the path to your house and Yunho can’t help but think it might be an omen, whether it’s a good or bad one is still undecided.

You walk to your backdoor as you hear knocking. You know it's Mingi and Yunho, they’re the only ones that would use that entrance, only ones that would knock too. What worries you is the fact that the knocking seems frantic and you could sense multiple other life forces as well, although they’re a little farther from the entrance of your house than the wolves.

You open the door as you look at the two, it’s unusual that they’re here tonight, they don’t usually come over on weeknights, so the fact that they’re at your front door, looking quite nervous on a Thursday concerns you. “Oh? To what do I owe the visit?” You ask the two as you step aside to let them in, the other life forces don’t move and so you leave them alone.

Mingi and Yunho both step inside, Yunho looking more nervous as Mingi is more conflicted. “We uhm- we have to talk” Mingi says, fiddling with the bandages on his fingers as he walks into your house a bit more, before leaning on the countertop in the corner. Yunho stays by the door but moves to the side a bit so that he’s not blocking it. “We need your help..”

His words peak your interest, the two never share a lot about their current private affairs and you respect that. Understanding that not every creature wishes to be known, especially if they’re of the rarer types like you know these two are, so them standing before you now asking this question is quite strange. “Oh? What can I help with?” You walk into your home, decidedly leaving the door open.

“Okay so uhm- I’m not sure if you know. Wait what do you know- wait no wait oka-” Mingi’s nervous rambling is cut off by Yunho who looks you dead in the eye, unlike Mingi whose eyes are drilling holes in the floor. “Do you believe in the supernatural?” Yunho’s voice is firm and not as soft as you’re used to. “The supernatural? yeah, why?” You say nonchalantly, thinking of all the ways the direction this conversation can go. Would they confess their true nature? Yunho scratches the back of his neck as he takes a deep breath before speaking “So uhm if we were to say, to tell you uhm we-” his words are interrupted by a loud scream from outside, all three of your heads turning the direction of the scream.

The scream was guttural sounding, desperate and dry as you stand closest to the doorway you can see body’s panicking as they rush out of the bushes, laying another body down on the ground, you can’t see much of what's happening because of the distance but you can that Yunho and Mingi are worried, body’s tense. “I'm guessing that’s why you asked? about the supernatural?” You speak and your voice is steady in an effort to give some comfort, you walk a bit more into your kitchen before reaching a door on the side and opening it. “Tell them to bring him in- only you and one other can come with him- I don’t need this many unknown people in my house.” You say before walking down the stairs of the door you’ve opened. Turning the lights on down the way.

As your back is turned to them you can't see the bafflement on their faces as they freeze at your seeming nonchalant demeanor before rushing out to the rest of their packmates. You walk down into your apothecary room as you turn on the lights and clear your table, you don’t know what you’ll be dealing with, so for now all you do is roll up your sleeves and tie your hair. You hear the footsteps of three males come down the stairs. Mingi and Yunho reach your sight first before you see the two behind them, a shorter blond carrying a platinum blond man.

“[M/n] how-” Mingi’s words are cut off by your own “Put him down on the table” you instruct the blond and he does so with hesitance. “What's your name?” you ask again as you start inspecting the man laying down on your table, “San.” he responds as you remove the man on your table’s shirt, “Okay San, tell me about your friend here- he’s a Siren right?” you ask. “Yeah, wait [M/n] how do you-” Mingi responds instead but you completely ignore him. “Fresh or saltwater?” you ask already knowing the answer, eye’s directed at San. “Fresh water” San responds, “What are you doing- why are you taking off his shirt?” he asks, confusion sounding like anger. “Because I'm gonna need you to smear ointment on his chest- lest you want him to stop breathing” you say as you turn to try and reach for a jar of ointment in the cabinet behind you. Although San is quick to stop you as he grabs the wrist of the hand you had rested on the siren's chest to check his heartbeat.

“Listen I don’t know who you are, but you need to tell me what the fuck-AH!” San’s words are stopped by a sharp wince as he suddenly lets go of your wrist, clutching his arm as he looks at the back of his shoulder. Behind him in the doorway you see your best friend standing with her arm outstretched as she’s just thrown a knife into his shoulder blade.“You wolves couldn't act fast enough to stop your little friend here from grabbing [M/n]?” Lisa asks as she walks over. San tries to pull out the knife but you quickly stop him, “Don’t do that, that knife’s specifically designed to hurt anyone except for Lisa. Mingi go get another one of your friends to help San” you say and Mingi complies, despite the unease in his eyes and the questions you can feel lingering on his lips, he walks back out the room. “San you sit down on that chair over there” you point to a chair in the corner of the room “Lisa help him” she clicks her tongue before looking at you as if asking why “You’re the only one that can touch the knife, you know where the ointment is, Yunho help her I don’t think San would be to keen on letting her touch him” you order and Yunho nods, his mouth closed and it seems even he hasn’t processed whats been happening.

Mingi comes down with another male behind him, this one with short dark hair, “Fire elemental yeah? What’s your name?” you ask him as you get out jars of paste from your cabinets. “Uhm uh yeah Wooyoung what’s going on with San” his eyes instinctively flicker to his friend and you can see the panic in his eyes, “hey don't focus on him, focus on me I need your help with your friend.” Wooyoung's head snaps between the two of his friends before he sees San nod at him and he walks up to the table as you hand him a jar. “Here, smear this into his chest” you say as you start inspecting the siren on your table. “When was the last time he swam- in fresh water specifically” You ask Wooyoung. “Uhm I'm not sure? A few months ago maybe? He and Jongho- a saltwater siren, swam in the Night sea before we came here but he hasn’t been in the water since and then he got sick so we don’t know what to do” Wooyoung's words flow out a mile a minute as he starts rubbing the clear ointment on Yeosangs chest.

“Tell me what you’re doing to him” San speaks from the corner of the room between pained hisses. “Okay you see this?” you point to the open gills of the Siren before you, “Usually sirens' gills only form when they’re underwater, his gills being open, basically gasping for air means he cant breath. Freshwater Sirens are much more sensitive than saltwater ones, they need more water intake and too much salt water can also dry out their skin. I've seen it before one or two times in my lifetime, he’s dehydrated, see how he’s molting and his chapped lips?” Wooyoung's nod’s. “So you know how to help him then?” San asks as he’s being wrapped in a bandage by Yunho, Lisa now standing in the other corner of the room as she cleans her dagger.

“Yeah, yeah I know how, Lisa, would you get me the towels please?” you respond as you wrap your hands around Yeosangs neck, covering his gills as Lisa walks up the stairs of the room into your home. Seeing your actions, San tries to storm up from his chair but is held back by Yunho as Mingi’s voice aggressively tells him to sit.”What are you doing?! You just said his gills are how he breathes?! Wooyoung stop him!” San shouts as he’s struggling against Yunho's hold, Wooyoung tries to reach for your hands but is yanked back by Mingi “I told you not to touch him” his voice is borderline possessive but you can't bring yourself to focus on that now. “The ointment Wooyoung rubbed on his chest helped open up his lungs, I'm closing his gills to ensure he'll breathe out of his mouth.” you say and before they can respond the siren lets out a gasp as his breathing becomes a bit more stable, now from his mouth and nose.

“Alright I have to take him out to the water, you can follow but don’t interrupt okay?” You look at the four men in front of you, three nod as San stays silent. You pick Yeosang up bridal-style and Mingi lets out a noise of protest but stays mostly silent. You walk up the stairs careful not to move the siren in your hold too much. As you walk out of your home and feel the cold breeze hit you for the second time that night, the siren in your hold wines at the temperature drop. You nod your head in acknowledgement at the three other males standing outside, looking worried to all hell, as you continue walking to the stream that flows outside your house only a few miles away.

You feel the seven men following you, some fussing over San as they walk, Mingi and Yunho leading them, Lisa follows with towels in hand. As you reach the edge of the stream you look back at the men, “Don’t interrupt yeah? You might not understand what's happening but interfering will only hurt him” you look back at the water. The men behind you all seem apprehensive but comply to your orders, San only because he’s still being held back by Yunho. The clearing is deathly silent as you start walking into the river, despite the cold of the water you don’t flinch.

As you work and the others watch you, Hongjoongs turns to Mingi, “I thought you said he was human?” he whispers slightly, “I thought he was” Mingi responds, mouth almost agape in awe at your actions. “Then why does his right eye look like that of a banshee? Don't tell me you didn't realize” Hongjoong whispers again, this time Mingi is silent as he hears his leader's revelation. He’s always been curious about your white eye, the intricate markings almost like shattered glass, sometimes even wondering if you were blind in it, but he’d never had the gall to ask.

You let out a whistle as you stand in the water. It reaches your chest as you hold Yeosang, letting him practically float in the freshwater, his whole body, except for his face covered by the usual clear stream that's now blurred by the night's darkness. “Amphitrite, darling I need your help” you call out softly, in the same voice you’d speak to Mingi in when he fell asleep on your shoulder, the voice you'd speak to Yunho in when he came to you teary eyed and in need of comfort. A moment of confusion passes before the water starts swirling around you. The hair you’ve loosely tied has now fallen, cascading down your shoulders like a waterfall as the ends drift in the river. The water around you and the siren starts turning a bright blue, almost blinding. Once again San tries to lurch forward but is held back by Hongjoong, “He said not to interrupt” the leader states, despite his own confusion he is smart enough to know not to mess with the trails of a Banshee.

From the side of the river, the side filled with forest trees so dark the others can’t see past the line that separates the land they currently stand on with the territory named Forest night, emerges a large horse. Not a normal one. The horse seems sickly, almost dark and boney, barely a horse at all as its seaweed-like mane sways lightly in the wind, dripping wet despite the fact that the horse has just come out of the dry forest. The horse- the kelpie’s soulless eyes stare into the 7 men standing on the other side of the river. The way it’s flesh is ripped from the sides of its snout revealing it’s horrific teeth is a picture painted from nightmares of the sickests minds. Its bones crack with every step and the dark shadows around it lash out as whispers follow.

It steps into the water and the liquid seems to be drawn to it. The water crawls up its legs and takes its form, molding with the bloody bones and dark shadows so well, to the point that if you didn’t look too closely the horse would seem normal, beautiful even. No ripped flesh or greasy hair, no teeth are shown from its snout because its skin has no tear. The kelpie is big and dark, looking like a noble steed fit for a true royal, yet it walks over to you so slow and soft that it's clear where its loyalties lie. The kelpie goes silent, no whisper or lashing of shadows as it bows to you. The animal who is known to bring death to many sends a horrid thought through San’s mind. They had just given Yeosang, to the nightmarish stallion, on a silver platter. Instead of the creature luring Yeosang to death, it was his own pack who handed him to the ominous shadows of death looming above the glowing river of life.

You reach out a hand to pet its snout, “Amphritre darling, could you help this young siren for me?” you ask softly, stroking the kelpie, it seems to look down for a moment, makes a noise of dismay before you speak again, “Please?” you ask, removing your hand from its snout and gripping your necklace, the kelpie looks at the stone in your hand and relaxes as you reach back up to pet it once more.

It retracts its snout from your hold before looking down at Yeosang, sniffing his hair slightly before bringing a hoof out of the water, time seems to slow down as the horse slaps its hoof down on Yeosangs chest before it dissolves into the water, as if it was never there. Its former dark hair and pale bones now blending in with the bubbling waters as Yeosang gasps again, his body lurching forward as his eyes fly open. He coughs up water as you gently rub his back, your other arm. still supporting him as he’s basically sitting on it. “It’s okay, It’s okay” you whisper softly, unaware of how both Mingi and Yunho’s eyes are locked on you.

The way your hair reflects the moonlight, glowing bright as it drifts on the water behind your back, the way your white shirt- now wet and clear sticks to your skin, the way your voice dips low as you whisper to Yeosang, despite it being barely audible to those standing on the ground, it sends shivers down their spine. Makes Mingi’s stomach churn with heat and Yunho’s chest rumble with jealousy. Everyone else is focusing on the now conscious Yeosang, but they’re focusing on you.

As Yeosang’s coughing fit stops he looks up at you, eyes lidded and foggy and then he gives you a lazy smile, “My pearl, I’ve found you, my pearl, my pearl” Yeosang chant’s out softly like a mantra, his hand reaches for your cheek and just before he could place it on your skin, you tap his forehead, causing him to drop back down, now in a deep sleep as he practically snuggles into your hold. Your breath hitches at his words and your eyes lock with Hongjoong and Seonghwa, whose own had widened significantly, but you try not to react too much as you look down for a moment to ensure he’s sleeping before you start to step out as the water around you calms down, going back to its original dark state, only light being from the reflection of the moon.

“What- how-” Mingi’s splutters of confusion are ignored as the salt water siren rushes forward, frantically looking Yeosang up and down, trying to take him from your hold. The siren in your arms, despite his sleepy state, refuses as he makes a noise of protest. You nod your head at Lisa as she hands you a towel before handing another to the saltwater siren. “What’s your name, little one?” she asks him gently, her voice not even close to the malicious tone she had held earlier when speaking to San, “Jongho” the saltwater Siren states. “Alright Jongho, you’re gonna need to help me transfer your friend here from [M/n]’s arms. Can you sit down for me? Hold your hands open with the towel, be ready to take him” she instructs gently, Jongho does as told, you follow shortly after, sitting down on your knees, the action causing your wet pants to flex against your thighs, which immediately draw’s Yunho’s attention.

“What’s this one's name?” you ask Jongho softly, referring to the man in your arms, “Yeosang” the shifter that stands beside Mingi speaks. He seems regal in a sense, and you can sense a connection of sorts to him… he must be a creature that inhabits water, you hum in acknowledgment at his answer before looking down at the boy in your arms. “Alright Yeosang can you hear me?” You speak, gently using one of your hands that's not holding him against you to move the wet hair out of his face, the siren makes a noise of acknowledgement but doesn't open his eyes. “I'm going to need you to let go of me okay? We need to dry you off lest you get sick” you utter and your voice flows over the clearing, despite your gentle tone, the low rumble of your words seems to keep everyone around you quiet. The siren makes another noise of disagreement and you can sense the starting agitation of the wolves standing a bit to your right.

“Come on, if you do this for me I’ll be here when you wake up okay? Just go into the arms of your brother." Finally Yeosang complies at your words as he relaxes the arms that were wrapped around your neck, you hand him to Jongho who instantly wraps him in the blanket and gently tries to dry him as Wooyoung and San flock to his side. You stand up and start gently drying yourself, Lisa helping you with your long hair as you look at the others. “You need to get him home for now, the water may have helped him but the measures i've used will ensure he’ll be very cold, I’d suggest keeping Wooyoung close to him to warm him up, I’m not sure how long you guys will be here, so he can come swim in the river if he feels his hydration levels get too low, just let me know first.” You speak to the group, mostly the two reptilian shifters given they seem to hold the most authority among the group.

“Wait- what how did you-” Mingi walks closer as he starts questioning what just happened, despite his confusion and search for answers his eyes are stuck on your chest as your shirt sticks to it and the necklace he’s never seen you without dangles from your neck. “Isn't it obvious? Thought those two would have figured it out already” you nod to the two shifters again before pointing to your eye, the one that's white and void, filled with little gray lines. “The eye’s of a Banshee.” The shorter one states, “Although I haven't heard of one being alive in a while, the last known one was when the war ended.” the white haired one follows.

“I like keeping quiet, nothing good comes of my kind being known. You must understand that” you say, voice monotone as the two nod. “I’m Kim Hongjoong, this is my right hand Park Seonghwa. It is a pleasure to finally meet you, we have heard quite a lot” Hongjoong says as he nods his head at you. “Thank you for saving Yeosang, truly we didn’t know what to do.” Seonghwa does the same as Hongjoong as he nods his head.

“Hm, It’s no problem, although I must say not everyday the King of Aurora comes to my home.” You say as you look at Hongjoong, his face is stoic but you see the slight widening of his eyes that shows his shock. “What? You think just because we’re an isolated island that we don’t keep up with what happens in other regions?” you ask half sarcastically, Wooyoung who’s listening into the conversation makes a small shrug of “yeah”. You chuckle slightly and the sound is like music to Mingi and Yunho’s ears in this tense atmosphere. “I think you guys should go home yeah? He needs rest” you nod over to the sleeping Yeosang.

Seonghwa steps forward for a moment, “He’ll ask about you, you know that right? Not everyday a fresh water siren finds their pearl” you nod your head in understanding as you cross your arms, the others make faces of confusion but don't interrupt “Yes I understand that, but right now rest is more important to him.” You say and Hongjoong nods, “We do still need to talk” he motions for the others to start gathering around as his eyes are focused on you.

“Hm, I guess I understand, a King worried about a man of his pack” you hum, not noticing the slight flinch as you refer to him as ‘King’, “There's a tavern a little bit into town, called Moonlight, I’ll meet you there tomorrow to talk, you can come anytime. Although not everyone can come, I'm not sure my pack would appreciate being ambushed by yours” Hongjoong nods at your words as he turns around to signal the rest to leave, but Mingi instantly lurches forward.

“Hey woah no I’m not leaving, since when were you a Banshee? Wait, no that's stupid, why didn’t you tell me? Why didn't you tell us?” There are tears lingering in his eyes as he asks you pleadingly, his pupils wide and glossy. He searches your face for an answer as his hands grip your arms desperately. “Why didn't you tell me you were wolves? Shifters from the Walkam bloodline no less” you don’t mean to seem as cold as you do, but your words send a chill down the wolves spine, one colder than the night sky you’re currently standing under.

“We were scared..” Yunho whispers as he moves closer to both you and Mingi. The others look at the scene unfolding before them and they feel as if they’ve invaded something they shouldn’t have, but they can’t look away. The way the moon is shining on you three is simply mesmerizing, as if she’s capturing the moment in her memory. “And so was I. You must know being a Banshee is not safe, for me nor for you. Some things are better kept unsaid.” You place a hand on each of their cheeks as their faces nuzzle into your skin, warm flushed against your cold hands. “But we weren’t- that's not what we were scared of I- '' Mingi's words are cut off by Lisa, who's standing with the others.

“Loverboy, I don’t think this is the place for your confession okay? Besides [Name] is tired, that ritual takes a lot out of him” she says as she shifts her weight to one hip, she seems a little annoyed to the others but you can see the bit of sympathy in her eyes. The scene seems almost familiar to her but she pushes the feeling away. Mingi turns his head to her and opens his mouth to protest but he’s stopped by you talking instead. “She’s right Mingi, you need to go home, Yeosang needs to rest, I need to rest.” You tell him softly. “But we have to talk” Yunho’s disheartened voice reaches your ears. “Tomorrow is Friday, right? We always meet on friday nights, why would tomorrow be any different? We can talk then, I'll give you all the answers I can then.” your thumb strokes his cheek gently before you retract your hands. Both wolves whine at the loss of your touch but they don't talk back at your words. They listen intently like worshipers would their deity.

“Promise?” they ask in unison, Mingi’s eyes glisten with unshed tears as Yunho’s does with hope. “When have I ever backed out of our Friday night meetings? Why would I skip the chance to see you now meae carissimae lupi” the familiar name rolls off your tongue in a language that makes Hongjoongs eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t comment on it, not in such a fragile atmosphere. Both Mingi and Yunho’s eyes flash with confusion yet fondness, you’ve never told them what the name meant, but they both hold the familiarity of the way your voice vibrates when you refer to them with it dear. “Now I believe you need to help get your brother home hm?” You nod your head to Yeosang who's still in Jongho’s arms. Yunho is the first to start retreating, but Mingi is hesitant to do the same, instead he sends one final glance to his pack. His eyes lock with Yunho, and then his gaze lingers on Yeosang for just a moment longer than a normal look should, before he hugs you, tightly. Not caring for the wetness of your clothes, or the coldness of your skin, he hugs you like his life depends on it, and were you any weaker it would have hurt.

He rests his nose in your neck, inhaling your scent as if he’s engraving it in his memory. Your hand automatically rests itself on his head, gently scratching his scalp to try and soothe him from what you believe to be the feelings of his sick brother now crashing down on him. Unbeknownst to you, the action solidifies something, adds oxygen to his lungs, to the fire in his very being that's alight for you.

“Mingi..” Hongjoong calls in warning as he sees Lisa’s gaze. Hongjoong doesn’t want to intrude longer than he already has, the suspicions he and Seonghwa currently hold make him weary of your company, despite the kind gesture you had just done for them. Mingi growls, it’s low, not like any sound they’ve ever heard from him, seems to reverberate from his chest like a demon roaring in a cave, and not that of a normal wolf. Although he lets go, and so no one pays it any mind, all of them having too much to process tonight already, Mingi’s more primal than usual rumble being the last of their worries.

Mingi looks at your face as he lets go of you, leans in and kisses your nose as he cups your cheeks before he turns away and starts walking, not looking at any of his pack members. You stand in shock as you watch his retreating figure, feeling the tingle of his lips on your skin linger. Yunho spares you a glance of longing before going after Mingi, and the others hang around unsure whether they should stay or go.

“[Name] will meet you at the tavern tomorrow, King. You all should go before I stick another knife in one of you” Lisa says as she assesses the situation at hand, her eyes travel to San as he grits his teeth, shoulders tensing as he seemingly readies himself to jump at her, but he’s stopped by Wooyoung holding his arm. “Yeah we’ll go Ma’am, no need to dagger any of us” he tugs San to follow, the blond making a confused noise at Wooyoung's sudden honorifics for the female. Jongho whose feet have already begun moving the moment Lisa’s first sentence left her mouth.

Now the only people left in the clearing, it’s you, Lisa, Seonghwa and Hongjoong. “You speak the ancient language?” Seonghwa asks, “I was taught at a young age, just as you probably were, lost dragon of Twilight” Seonghwa’s breath hitches at your response, eyes widening as he immediately opens his mouth to respond, yet Hongjoong interrupts him, “Seonghwa, we will go.” Hongjoong who’s been analyzing both you and Lisa makes his decision final as he starts walking, Seonghwa quickly following his leader but still spluttering in confusion. His regal mask seemingly breaking the moment you showed an inkling of knowledge.

Once the two have passed the treeline and are out of your sight, you let out a breath of relief and Lisa immediately moves to your side to support you as your legs give in for a moment. She gives you a second to stabilize yourself before you both move back into your home, you immediately sit on a stool by your kitchen counter as she locks the door. Your head rests in your hands as you hear Lisa rustle around in your kitchen. “Drink”, she says, before placing a glass of water in front of you as she sits down herself.

You take the glass and chug it as she starts speaking, “Tea-moo won’t like this you know” she plays with her dagger as she speaks, the tip of the blade chipping a hole into the paint of the counter top as she spins it under her finger. “Tea-moo has a wife to worry about, and stop it with the blade you’re going to ruin another counter top” you swat her hand playfully to stop her, she huffs and drops the dagger. “She won’t like this either” Lisa gives you a knowing look as she stands back up, now looking through your cupboards. “Just for different reasons” you sigh as she turns around, a jar of salve in her hands.

She walks over to you as you turn in your chair to face her, with her help you remove your shirt as she opens the jar, your muscle’s ache with the strain you’ve put on them tonight, clearly not having used your magic for a long time has an effect on you. Looking down you see the lightning-like scars that litter your torso and crawl all the way to your back. You're just lucky the transparency of your white shirt didn’t expose the usually light pink marks that litter your skin tonight, but now they’re glowing a faint blue. It’s not painful by any means, but still the reminder that it can be excruciating when not treated haunts you. You shake your head to distract yourself as Lisa starts lightly applying the balm along the lines of your healed wounds. It’s become a calming ritual for her, applying the salve on the long forgotten wounds that only re appear when you use your magic. It’s as if the light inside you tries to escape, and Lisa tries her hardest to keep it inside. Lest she fail again. Applying the salve to watch the marks almost completely disappear is the only thing that can help her rest easy after you've used magic such as what you used tonight.

“Vampires are territorial creatures, they are most like wolves in that way” she muses as she continues your previous conversation, “Don’t let them hear you say that” you try and lighten the mood, and under any other circumstance it would have worked. “Tea- moo hearing me compare him to a wolf is not my concern. My concern; is him finding out his previous imprinted- and his wife's savior has been claimed by a Siren- a prince of Dune no less” Lisa’s gaze flickers to the orange stone hung around your neck before she looks at you, you sigh and rub your eyes, already feeling the headache forming, “and why is that your concern?” you voice the question yet already know the answer.

“That nation abandoned you, who's to say their prince wont do the same?” she slams the lid back on the jar of salve before she moves to put it away while you put on your shirt again. “What happened then had nothing to do with him Lisa, you know that. He does not know who I am and does not know I know who he is. Besides, I do not plan on reciprocating his bond. I've had enough dealing with Dune’s sirens to last me all my lifetimes.” you bring your necklace out from under your shirt as Lisa walks back to you, she takes the stone in her hand gently as it glows in response to her touch, you let her.

She lets it drop back to your chest with a gentle jingle of the chain, “And the wolves? You’ve been awfully close to them this last year, and while the others may have been fine with it- having seen them tonight? Having heard the rumble in the angry one’s-""Mingi’s” you interrupt her,”Mingi’s chest” she nods her head, “that's something way more than just adoration for you…” she says, and this time you can’t reassure her in your hesitance to pursue anything like you could with the siren.

She nods her head in understanding, “Just be careful hm?” she pats your chest, “dealing with one supernatural bond is hard enough, having the prospect of three? It might not bode well with the others” You nod your head at her words because you know it’s true, but you can’t bring yourself to deny anything.

Because the last few months, this last year spent with Mingi and Yunho have brought back to you what you thought had been extinguished forever, but you’re scared of accepting the reality of what that means. Accepting reality means accepting them, and you fear you'll drown their fire if you do, just like you did before.

“Do you think it’s stupid of me to live in this delusion?” you ask quietly, fiddling with your necklace as it once again glows in response to you, your emotions. Lisa sighs, “I don’t think it’s stupid- I don’t think it's a delusion either, My little prince” she holds your face in her hands, using the tittle you've long since forgone. Lisa has always been with you, ever since you were a teen knowing nothing about life she had been one of the older flames who helped guide you. “If those wolves are what you desire, then you know i'll help you acquire them- I think they would come willingly” she jokes, and you huff out a laugh. “My desire means nothing in the face of their safety. I just, I like to think that If I was different, if I wasn't-” you stop your sentence, “I like to think that sometimes I could love someone the way you love her” you say. Lisa’s eyes fill with pain and she kisses your forehead, “You will, you'll find someone who loves you like that” ‘You already have’ she thinks but doesn't verbalize.

“Why are you always the one able to make me vulnerable?” you ask rhetorically, biting your cheek in an effort not to cry. Lisa’s warmth sometimes reminds you more of your mother than a sister. “I've been your guard since before you knew what love meant [M/N], if you didn't feel safe enough to be vulnerable with me I wouldn't be doing my job right” she bites back and pats your cheek before her hands leave your face. “You know you don't have to protect me right? I can do it myself” you muse, and she responds without a beat, “I don’t have too, I want to. Just because you're able to protect yourself doesn't mean you should. You protect the others, you protect your kids, so I protect you.”

You smile at her, and she’s reminded of another time, a younger you running between an army of soldiers, laughing as the big burly men in all black gaze with fondness at your little figure. The contrast of your soft white hair and clothing to their intimidating nature always drew a laugh from onlookers. Lisa remembers sitting next to her love as you played with the soldiers, she remembers a time your smile was innocent and not burdened with the pain and knowledge you now hold.

She hopes these wolves could bring back that smile.

Ateez masterlist | Navigation

Taglist [12 /30]: @foxilsdenn @zzstar @glitchyaiko @brrrkdslek @scarfac3 @xavi-in-kpopland @conwunder @venn-ie @dahbee8 @idkwhatto-namethis @seongsangssbitch @grapejellysollie

note: RAAHH IM SO EXCITED TO FINALLY RELEASE THIS, you have no idea how much I love this storyline guys :(( im taking a long time with it because i wnat it to be good!! I hope all my moonies enjoy this <3333 Please remember the reader does have specific characteristics visually (hair and eyes), wich WAS stated in the character introductions and are there for reasons so im asking nicely that everyone be respectfull about that <3 ANYWAY on a happier note I'm using a lot of foreshadowing for this series, so I want my moonies to interact with it a lot :) share with me your theories, parts of thd chapters that stand out to you, headcannons or thoughts you have :)) If your theory is correct I'll give you a lil spoiler on what will happen further in the story. I want to see how smart my moonies are and if they can pick up the crumbs I leave for them- remember no piece of information is given if it won't be used😘

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askinkiskarma · 1 year ago

Note

My sweet bb Andra 💕 How are you doing love ? 💫

I have a juicy Request and I know you will make its justice 😩🤌🏻

So basically, we have Neteyam and Mate going out for a little time together at the lake, or pond whatever (deep enough ��😳). Reader decides to draw Neteyam. So he poses for her and well she starts drawing and all. She is all concentrated looking at the paper for a moment and she feels something being thrown at her. She looks at him and well 🥴 We don't need any precisions here :3

Reader is all flustered and Neteyam is just smirking widely. Reader hasn't any time to react because we hear Jake's voice screaming Neteyam's name from afar. Oh ! Guess what ? Neteyam forgot. Yes. He forgot a training with his father (Pls let this poor guy rest a bit 🙂).

And Lo'ak (Otherwise it wouldn't be funny hehe)

Neteyam tries to grab his loincloth but reader is faster and throws it far into the bushes, with a smirk obv. So Neteyam has no choice to jump into the water (I know that Na'vi are less ashamed of nudity... Are they ? Anyways !)

So his brother and father get there, very fastly. Everything that happened before was like in 10 secs.

The rest I leave up to you 😏 We only need some funny dad-Neteyam and brother-Neteyam interactions when he just can't go out of the water, but he's very very late... Then we have Lo'ak that finally understands and just cannot stop laughing, making Jake more than less annoyed than he already was. And we have some intense playfull eye contacts with the reader. She's enjoying it haha.

Yeah... You can end it like you want 😂💖 My brain is a mess sometimes ugh 😥

Okay Imma stop 🙈🌸 I hope this inspired you and no pressure okay ? 🫂

Smooches 🥰

no cause this is so so funny and i hope you enjoyed bestie xx it feels good to be back writing for neteyam :((

pairing: neteyam x human!reader

wc: 1170 words

warnings: smut, fluff, minors do not interact 🔞

na'vi compendium: yawne - beloved, tewng - loincloth, tanhí - bioluminescent freckles

As a human on Pandora, there wasn't much for you to do, very little your body was inherently made for. You were slow and clumsy, a stark contrast to the Na'vi carrying you on his back like a little doll, all nimble and quiet as he treaded the deep shrubbery, his thumbs massaging your thighs as you rested your chin on his shoulder, humming contently in between peppering kisses to his neck.

As a human on Pandora, you were stuck in a lab most days, with filtered air and fluorescent lights, that did nothing for you, that had a rare talent of making even the most beautiful creature look ghastly and ashen, that gave you a headache, that made you miss the beautiful light peering through the uneven gaps created by the branches of the tall trees of the Omaticayan forest. Stuck as you were, you turned to artistic outlets for your boredom. You loved to draw, and you became very good in time, enough that the entire lab and some of the village were now covered in your landscapes and your portraits. The people loved you, and your talents, and often urged you to draw them or loved ones, as a way to immortalise a face or a moment forever in time, a priceless gift for them, and one that gave you a place amongst the Na'vi, even different, as you were.

As a human on Pandora, you didn't have a lot of choice of entertainment... or men. But you've never felt the lack... not when you had Neteyam. Your best friend, your confidant, he was always up for a challenge, and, let's just say, he always thought of you as one. In the few years since your 18th birthday, a rite of passage of sorts for humans, you were told, Neteyam made it his purpose to show you that you will never have to miss out on anything on Pandora, that he would make it his life's mission to... be there for you, in any and every way you needed, be it to be a shoulder to cry on, or a shoulder to rest your legs on as his head was in between your thighs, Neteyam was always there - ready to help, ready to serve.

You gulped as you reminisced about this morning, about the moans that escaped him as he was lapping at your folds like he was quenching an unquenchable thirst, like eating you out was for his own pleasure, and not your own, or the way he didn't stop until you were so overstimulated you were crying, something he made up for by showering you in soft kisses and quiet whispers of "you did so well for me, yawne. you always take me so well."

"You ok back there... friend?"

"Yes, Teyam. Just tired. Are we almost there yet?"

"Patience, love. You wanted more inspiration for your drawings, right? I told you I found just the place, and you're going love it, I promise. It's just a little further."

Well, he was right. The little meadow created by a small, clear pond, bustling with little fish swimming peacefully, drowned in warm sunlight, was the perfect backdrop for the painting you had in mind. With a small smirk, you pointed at the water and clicked your tongue at your much larger, beautiful, muscular friend.

"Get in, Teyam."

"Why?"

"I've wanted to draw you for a while, I just wanted the perfect background, and now I have it. Now go."

You chuckled to yourself as you heard a loud splashing noise, and settled on removing your pad and pens, placing them on the ground next to you as you thought about what positions would work best for what you had in mind. You gasped loudly when something soft hit you in the face, removing you from your less than innocent reveries - it seemed Neteyam was ahead of you, as you felt for the object that you removed from yourself and realised it was his loincloth. When you looked back at him, your mind shortcircuited at the sight of his naked body, glistening in the sun as the water dripped down every defined muscle, down his chest and abs, down his v-line, down his -

"You like what you see, yawne?"

Although it pained you, you raised your eyes until they met his beautiful features, tanhí shining brightly even in broad daylight, as they always did when he was overtly happy or amused, and by the wild, mischievous grin and crinkles by his eyes, it was a safe assumption he was both.

"I say you forget the painting for now, and come here so I can show you how... grateful I am you thought of me as your next subject."

It was a no-brainer to you, really, but when you heard a voice you knew all too well screaming, the noise echoing through the trees, heightening the sound, your body stilled in place.

"Neteyam! Are you there, boy?"

"Fuck! I forgot I was supposed to meet my dad for training."

"Quick, throw me the tewn-" you screeched as the instruction came too little too late, and in the heat of the moment and much to Neteyam's dismay, frightened by the quickly approaching steps of the Olo'eyktan, you threw the cloth in the opposing direction, somewhere in the bushes.

"Netey- ah, kid. What are you two doing here?"

You just looked at him, panicked, eyes flickering from him to Neteyam's younger brother, who looked at you suspiciously, eye narrowed as they assessed the situation at hand through a lens of youth and misdemeanour Jake couldn't really see, and you were glad.

"Cat got your tongue, kid?" The Sully patriarch's raised eyebrow did very little to will out of the catatonic state you found yourself in, so you remained quiet as he scoffed, turning his attention to his oldest son, instead.

"You were supposed to be in training at 1400 hours, remember?"

"Yes, sir."

"Come on, out. We need to be off and make up for it."

"I-I... can't."

"And why the hell not, boy?"

You felt Jake's eye roll deep in your soul, and you felt like you should take the blame for this since... you threw Neteyam's clothes away in fear, and everything. You should rectify this.

"Jake, I-"

"Oh, my Eywa! He's naked! He's so naked!"

Your mouth dropped in shock, but it was too late. The cat was indeed out of the bag, and as your and Neteyam's eyes met, listening to his dad's groans of disgust, you were a little relieved to see a hint of a smile on his face, the beautiful twinkle of amusement putting your mind at ease, letting you know it was all going to be ok. As long as you were together, and you had him, it was all going to be ok.

Reaching your hand behind your head to scratch the itchy spot at the base of your neck, you laughed awkwardly as you spoke:

"I'm... experimenting with some new artistic techniques?"

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neukdaez · 1 year ago

Text

say my name

rating: explicit

member: euijoo

notes: song-inspired fic, fem!reader, brother's friend, acquaintances to lovers, kitchen sex, praise, unprotected sex, creampie, maki is your younger brother, appearance by nicholas

a/n: my birthday fic for euijoo! i know his birthday's done both in korea and in where i live lol but it's still the 7th somewhere!!!! the song i incorporated into this is deny's say my name, which is a taglish song but i included translations for the lyrics i used here. this is my first full one shot on this account too aaaa so please enjoy!

there's something inherently exciting about doing things you shouldn't do, in meeting people who are bad for you, in sneaking around behind shadows, ducking from sight as the adrenaline pumps through your veins.

your heartbeat is loud, but your footsteps are quiet.

hindi mo ba napapansin, kung ga'no kainit ang hangin? (don't you notice how the air's turned hot?)

we've all had those moments in our lives when we stare off into space, teetering on the edge of doing something incredibly reckless. a lot of us have these moments more than once. sometimes more than once a day. you've had your fair share of internal battles about a risky decision, but this is the first time you can actually feel the suffocation creeping up on you as you rattle off your internal monologue.

but first, you need to find maki and wring his neck.

your brother has a friend. nicholas. and nicholas, in turn, has another friend.

euijoo.

and maki being the outgoing person he is, quickly became euijoo's friend, too. nevermind that nicholas and euijoo are both four years older than maki and are in their junior year of college while your little weasel of a brother is still in high school.

he met them in dance class, apparently. and they're thick as thieves.

so much so that they're in your living room right now, hogging the couch while they watch dance video after dance video on the tv.

this isn't a particularly new scene to witness. maki invites them over at least twice a week, and thanks to your parents' taste for the grander things in life, your living room has more than enough space for a bunch of young men to do their thing.

again, what business two twenty-somethings have in casually coming to a seventeen-year-old's house to hang out is beyond you. but you digress.

because at least maki has the sense to make friends with cute guys.

euijoo stands out to you, in particular. you're not sure why but there's definitely something about him. maybe it's his eyes, round and cute, like little cartoon saucers. or maybe it's his height. tall men are always a plus.

whatever it is, it's what's causing your inner turmoil, the more rational part of your brain fighting it out with the part of your brain that just makes you want to throw yourself at him.

wait, what?

you're at the top of the stairs, in the tiniest tank top you own, and while your lower half is safely covered in your pajama pants, the tight fit around your waist might raise some eyebrows (or catch eyes). the reasonable voice in your head tells you to cover up. you have visitors, for god's sake! but the small, mischievous whisper tells you to fuck it, flaunt it all to your brother's hot friends.

maybe you're overthinking it.

except, you aren't, because you're not blind and definitely not stupid.

nicholas did a double take the first time you met them, eyes scanning over you quickly. he's been tame since then, only greeting you curtly, but with a friendly enough smile nonetheless. then he turns back to his phone, typing away furiously. probably texting a girlfriend.

but euijoo's eyes linger. and while that may not mean anything now, you know that men are simple creatures. sauntering in front of him wearing what you're wearing now will definitely have him looking.

maybe you want him to look.

kalamnan ay unti-unting 'di maramdaman, natitirang konsensya, 'di na rin nadatnan (can't feel my insides, can't find what little conscience i have)

you climb down the stairs, your footsteps emitting soft thuds on the carpeted floor. your eyes stay true toward the direction of the kitchen, but a movement by the couch makes you shift your gaze.

you catch euijoo's eye briefly as he cranes his neck to look at you. you're still walking, albeit a little slower now. you fight the urge to smile when euijoo lets his line of sight fall to your chest.

"hey guys," you greet nonchalantly, breaking eye contact with euijoo. you glance at nicholas this time, sitting alone on the single-seater. he smiles warmly at you, giving a small wave.

maki is too engrossed in his phone to witness anything that's happening around him, particularly with his doe-eyed friend beside him on the couch.

"can you get me a soda from the fridge?" maki calls out to you as you enter the kitchen. you roll your eyes. ugh, little brothers.

you throw the refrigerator door open, snatching the four-pack of sodas. you pull one out for yourself, kicking the fridge shut before heading back out to the living room.

you press your soda to your neck, exhaling at the sensation against your warm skin. you extend your hand between maki and euijoo from behind the couch, handing them the rest of the sodas.

euijoo takes them from you, hand brushing against yours, and god does it feel like a predictable spicy romcom moment.

"thanks," euijoo says in his sweet honey voice. his lips turn up in the smallest of smiles.

"you're welcome," you reply, keeping your expression mostly neutral, raising your eyebrows in acknowledgement.

you turn away, making your way back to the stairs. you start your ascent and just before you disappear into the second floor, you give one final peek over the banister.

euijoo smiles once more as your eyes meet.

---

you still want to wring maki's neck. but maybe also reward him with a fat wad of cash.

it's late into the night and you're sure euijoo and nicholas have left. you heard the front door slam open and shut about an hour ago and you're certain you heard maki enter his room a little after that. so you practically frolicked down into the kitchen, in dire need of a midnight snack. your parents are conveniently off at an overnight business function so no one would give you shit for banging around with the pots and pans.

you're in the process of rummaging through the ramyeon drawer, scrutinizing the different flavors, when you hear a noise behind you. your heart seizes up in your chest as you spin around, bracing yourself against the counter, eyes wide in shock.

"euijoo?!"

the young man stands in the kitchen doorway, clad in what you can only identify as sleepwear of his own. his face mirrors yours, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

"sorry, just wanted to get some water," euijoo quickly apologizes, holding his hands out defensively.

you exhale, stance relaxing as you watch him shuffle uncertainly towards the other side of the kitchen. the only thing that stands between the two of you is the kitchen island.

"maki didn't tell me you guys were sleeping over," you point out, ramyeon long forgotten behind you.

"then again, he never tells me anything," you add. euijoo chuckles.

he's retrieved a glass from a cupboard and before you can think further ahead, you reach over to the fridge beside you, ducking to get the pitcher from within.

it's now that you realize that you're practically sticking your ass out for euijoo to ogle at. you nearly giggle at the thought.

you straighten up, turning to place the water on the island. euijoo is leaning over the marble, eyeing you. you're not quite sure how his expression reads, but you smile politely, sliding the pitcher towards him.

"where's maki, anyway?" you ask.

"with nicholas. nico brought his car and they, uh...," euijoo trails off, silencing himself as he pours the water into his glass.

you cock your head to the side. "did you just send my underage brother out to buy alcohol?"

euijoo purses his lips, not saying a word. he clears his throat, seemingly suppressing a smile.

you exhale, pinching the bridge of your nose. opening your eyes, you see euijoo is looking at you over the rim of his glass as he drinks. you stare back, crossing your arms.

"well, i had my suspicions," you declare. "i started around his age, too."

euijoo nods, setting his glass down. "i see where he gets it from."

you narrow your eyes and euijoo looks back at you innocently.

"why didn't you go along with them?" you question, leaning over the island casually. you're still wearing the tank top from earlier and euijoo doesn't hide the fact that he's still looking.

to his credit, there seems to be the faintest blush on his cheeks. so, he's not completely shameless, at least.

"and leave you here alone? come on, i'm more of a gentleman than that," euijoo says, tone easy. he plants his hands on the island, mirroring you as he leans closer across from you.

i wanna do the things i never tried with ya', i wanna hear you say my name now, won't ya'

"that's very thoughtful of you," you supply appreciatively. euijoo smiles.

"the pleasure is mine, _______."

the sound of your name leaving euijoo's lips sends you back to the hypothetical edge, standing over a steep drop into shame.

are you really this kind of older sibling? flirting with your brother's friend, dressed in ridiculously thin clothing, practically laying yourself out on a big, wide, flat surface? you might as well spell it out for him at this point.

"when are they coming back?" you ask, resting your chin on your palm. you're properly bent over the island now. if euijoo had no idea a few minutes ago, he sure as hell knows what's up by now.

euijoo turns his back to you for a moment, placing the now empty glass in the sink. he looks down at you from where he's standing and glances away briefly as if thinking.

"in a bit," he begins, coming around the counter. your breath hitches as you follow him with your eyes, heart thumping as he stops behind you.

you turn, leaning back against the marble now as euijoo watches you. every blink, every time you shift your weight, every breath, it feels like he's taking it all in.

"it's a friday night, so the traffic might be hell out there," euijoo points out. "i'd say that's another twenty minutes or so. give or take."

baby, hindi na makahinga, i'm suffocating pero hindi masama (baby, can't breathe anymore, i'm suffocating, but it's not bad)

"what do you wanna do till then?" you press on, batting your eyes at the man in front of you. one side of his mouth turns up in a smirk.

he's cute enough that it looks almost endearing. but the sparkle in his eye points to something else.

"whatever takes twenty minutes or so to do," euijoo suggests with a raise of his brow. he steps closer and you're almost toe to toe.

i kinda like it, adrenalina'y tumatakbo, dibdib ay kumakabog, sa tubig kinakapos (i kinda like it, adrenaline's running, chest is pounding, running short on water)

you reach out but euijoo beats you to whatever you're trying to do. his hand circles your wrist as he moves even closer.

kalamnan ay unti-unting 'di maramdaman, natitirang konsensya, 'di na rin nadatnan (can't feel my insides, can't find what little conscience i have)

euijoo's other hand lays on your hip. he ducks his head so he's level with your face. you breathe in and euijoo grins.

isang utos mo lang, hindi na mahindian, bae (just one command and i can't say no to you, bae)

in your head, you're cursing how he's so stupidly hot and cute and charming at the same time that you'd have no problem doing whatever it is he wants you to.

"kiss me," euijoo dares, eyebrows rising for a second, as if in challenge.

it's embarrassing how loud you moan once euijoo's lips are on yours. your hands immediately come up to cup at his face and his own palms smooth around your waist, up your back, before descending again to ultimately rest on your ass.

euijoo is a damn good kisser and you can barely keep up with every slide of his tongue on yours and every pass of his lips over your parted ones.

euijoo's hands move to your shoulders, pointer fingers hooking through the thin straps of your top, pulling them down. you gasp against euijoo's mouth, your chest exposed in its near entirety.

you pull back, watching with labored breaths as euijoo tugs the front of your shirt down, letting one of your tits hang out. you bite your lip as he takes ahold of it, squeezing gently. his other hand maneuvers itself beneath the waistband of your pajamas, wriggling under your underwear, before finally finding purchase against the heat between your legs.

it's pathetic, really, how quickly you turn to putty under euijoo's touch. a man you've known for barely a few weeks, pulling at your every string, playing you like a fiddle.

"cute," euijoo murmurs, leaning in to plant a brief kiss on the side of your mouth.

euijoo draws small, tight circles on your clit and you squirm, knuckles white as you grasp onto the counter behind you. you tuck your chin against your chest, squeezing your eyes shut when you feel euijoo tease at your entrance.

euijoo's hold on your breast disappears and instead, he gently handles one side of your face, tilting your head up. you meet his eyes just as he plunges one finger into you.

your eyes flutter shut and euijoo kisses you again, hot and messy and slick with both of your spit. he adds another finger and you whine, hips stuttering against his hand. your knees feel weak and you're convinced they're ready to give out.

euijoo pumps in and out of your slowly, letting your wetness coat his fingers. he curls his digits just as he pushes up and you clench down, a pleasurable heat spreading across your body.

"fuck, euijoo," you whisper. he pulls back slightly, observing your expressions.

"tell me when you're close," euijoo instructs. his voice has dropped, making you shiver.

euijoo picks up his speed, curling his fingers periodically, movements almost calculated like he's done this a million times before. the thought of euijoo being experienced, mastering the ins and outs of this, makes your whole body prickle with excitement.

"c-close," you manage to whimper out.

euijoo maintains his speed but presses harder and harder each time against your spongy walls. you clamp a hand over your mouth as you feel your belly tighten.

"euijoo, i'm gonna—oh my god!"

your orgasm wipes all coherent thoughts from your head, knocking the air out of you in one fell swoop. euijoo wraps an arm around your torso, keeping you upright as you ride your high out on his fingers. he presses his lips to your temple as you start to calm down, chest rising and falling rapidly.

euijoo pulls his hand from your pajamas, holding your gaze as he licks his fingers clean of you. your face burns but you can't look away, mesmerized by the way his lips and tongue move.

don't gotta get emotions if it's okay with ya', but I might fuck around and catch feelings for ya'

euijoo smiles, eyes raking over your disheveled form.

"we better hurry," euijoo speaks up, dipping down to kiss you. you taste yourself faintly on his mouth,

you tug your pajamas and underwear down, letting them fall to the floor. you kick them off to the side, pulling back as euijoo does the same. your eyes travel down to see his cock standing red and angry against his stomach.

"like what you see?" euijoo asks playfully, a hand coming down to stroke at his shaft a few times.

you bite down on your lip, trying to suppress a grin. euijoo chuckles, large hands taking hold of your hips. he maneuvers you to face away from him, your front digging into the marble of the kitchen counter.

you lean forward, letting your front squish against the surface, back arched perfectly. you hear euijoo whistle lowly, a hand smoothing down your back.

"looking good, _______," euijoo compliments, knees knocking against your thighs, signaling you to part them. you adjust your stance, exposing more of yourself to euijoo.

"that's it," euijoo mutters and you feel something poke against your waiting hole.

you let out a mix of a sigh of relief and a choked-up sob as you feel euijoo push in. you crane your neck to see what euijoo's doing and his eyebrows are knit together, concentration on his features as he fills you all the way in.

you see his eyes roll into the back of his head as he bottoms out, hands automatically gripping at your waist, keeping you steady.

euijoo starts moving and your head drops onto the counter. the stretch feels euphoric, euijoo's cock dragging deliciously against your walls.

"euijoo," you whine. his hips snap up repeatedly, pace starting to pick up as he loses himself in your cunt.

"so good," euijoo whispers. "you feel amazing, _______."

you preen at his words, burying your face in your folded arms. the angle lets him hit that spot deep within you perfectly and you already feel the beginnings of your second orgasm creeping up.

you gasp softly as you feel fingers tangling themselves in your hair and you cry out fully when you feel euijoo tug your head back by your locks.

"fuck, come here, angel," euijoo implores, an arm around your midsection as he pulls you against him.

euijoo's holding you up all by himself and you let him, too weakened by the way he's fucking into you.

euijoo's movements quicken, thrusts turning shallow as he ruts against you. you wonder for a moment if it's possible to go mad over cock. the thought is a ridiculous one, but with the way euijoo fucks you, harsh yet contained, with all the finesse and enthusiasm combined, you start to think it might not be too much of a stretch.

euijoo presses his mouth behind your ear, sucking lightly and you shiver, his breath tickling your sensitive skin.

"where?" euijoo asks, voice strained. it's obvious he's holding his release back.

it takes you a second to register his question and euijoo grunts softly, movements now erratic.

"where do you want it, angel?" euijoo repeats.

"inside," you say, walls clenching down as you feel your own orgasm approach. "please, inside."

it doesn't take long for euijoo's hips to stutter, fucking into you at a brutal pace for a few seconds before he stills, spilling himself deep in you. the feeling of him finishing inside sends you over the edge in turn, euijoo's name falling loudly from your mouth.

euijoo lets go of you and you slump over the counter, sweaty and spent. he slowly pulls out and you wince, pushing yourself upright with shaky arms.

"put this on, quick," euijoo reminds, handing you your underwear and bottoms. "before you, uh, make a mess on your kitchen floor."

you blush violently at his words, hurriedly pulling your clothes back on. euijoo does the same, wordlessly putting on his pajama pants.

you make eye contact and a second goes by without either of you saying a word. a moment later, the two of you burst out in silent giggles.

"i'd say that was about twenty minutes," euijoo comments, rubbing the back of his neck, a sudden shyness overcoming his demeanor.

before you can get a word out, you hear the front door slam open, hushed voices carrying through the house to the kitchen.

"_______? are you awake?" maki asks.

you and euijoo exchange a look.

#&team smut #&team scenarios #&team imagines #euijoo smut #euijoo scenarios #euijoo imagines #w: euijoo

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heyitsghost57 · 1 month ago

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Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing 1

Pairing: Lamb x Narinder/The One Who Waits

Chapter: Chapter 1 | My darling’s betrayal

Chapter Summary: Lamb was excited to have their final meeting with their God, their beloved, their devoted. They’re upset that this reunion is soured with their followers tagging along, though they suck it up, doing anything to please their God. How will this meeting go, Lamb wonders?

Content Warnings: blood, gore, killing enemies, obsession, idealization, and injuries

Word Count: 3k

Authors Note: credit to @maibel-mai for inspiring me to make this fic & giving me permission to post this! this fic is also cross-posted on AO3

Centuries ago, Lamb wasn’t like this. Past Lamb couldn’t imagine themselves as the cruel, desperate, insecure monster they were today. Standing in front of their mirror, it was hard for Lamb to recognize themselves as the docile creature they were before. The night before, Lamb had finally brought down the last god of the Old Faith, Shamura. Although Lamb was a skilled fighter, they weren’t left unmarked. There was a gash along their stomach, slicing their pretty wool, and their knees were scraped. A slight cut marked their face. Lamb was never known for their vulnerability and their cultist being able to see their injuries, so obvious on their face, felt like a failure to them. It would take a bit longer before their wounds healed. With bandages and their fleece worn tightly, Lamb hoped it wasn’t obvious. Before the prophecy was made, Lamb never entertained the thought of being a fighter, let alone a cult leader. Unfortunately for them, they had the perfect little mind that their God could manipulate to his liking. Back then, they had a loving family located in a tight-knit, small village. Lamb had an older brother and a younger sister, as well as kind parents. They adored their family and their quiet little life; it was simple and calm.

However, Lamb didn’t socialize well with others, resulting in them having very few close friends. It was always so hard for them to connect with those around them, though they tried their best. It was like Lamb could physically feel the distance between them and others, making it hard for them to form connections. Although Lamb loved their family, with them long gone, it was hard for them to trust others. Lamb forgot what they looked like and how they sounded, only remembering their names. The only one they truly felt a connection with was their beloved savior, The One Who Waits. Perhaps that was a warning sign of what they’d morph into all along?

Upon meeting The One Who Waits in the gateway, Lamb felt a swirl of many complex emotions. Hatred, fear, aching, and loneliness. When realizing their family was really all gone, Lamb was disturbed and their heart felt heavy. They had expected themselves to cry and pound the ground in heartbreak, though they felt too numb to do so. Tears threatened to spill, yet they were afraid of letting it happen in front of the creature towering before them. They were slightly snapped out of their state of panic when their God spoke. To Lamb, it was outrageous for him to request their life for his freedom. How could Lamb go on at all, after what had just happened? They stared at their chained hands, covered in grime with dirt caked into their nails. They wanted to scream and refuse, just wanting to be in the afterlife with their family, though they couldn’t find the words to do so. They hoped it was just due to the shock they were feeling. Certainly despite their fear, they could deny this request. This had to be the one time they could properly talk, when it mattered the most. They had survived execution and now they were met with Death himself. They could barely process the words he was saying; something about a cult and worship. They were still reeling in their head, trembling and panicking. Just seconds ago, they were laid before a blade, their hands painfully pinned to their back by chains.

However, it felt like something in them had snapped, cracking within their skull. It took them a second to collect themselves after this painful sensation, processing a change within them. Unbeknownst to Lamb, Narinder grew tired of their panicked state and used his divine powers to get them to focus on what mattered most: him. They hummed slightly, cocking their head to the side to look up at their God. Starting a cult seemed tiresome. They were never known for their social skills, but what choice did they have?

“I guess I could,” they answered, rocking on their heels and sighing. Their God narrowed his eyes at the lack of respect. Sensing his annoyance, Lamb cleared their throat and tried again. “I suppose I can, my Lord,” they mused, smiling a bit. It was a weak smile, as they were exhausted and numb. With little motion from The One Who Waits, his crown and powers were given to Lamb. Soon after they were resurrected, they felt phantom pains in their neck. There was a prickling sensation underneath their wool underneath the collar they wore. They had little time to react to this, stumbling to gain balance against the cracked stone. Their blood from moments ago stained the ground, warm under their hooves as their crown morphed into a sword.

It felt wrong to Lamb, to be killing these people. While they had just killed them or aided in it, it was hard for them to stomach emotionally. The screaming and resistance the skin gave before being pierced made Lamb wince. Their ears turned down at the sounds as they continued their slaughter. Once they were in the clear for the time being, Lamb stopped to catch their breath; they were protected by rocks preventing others from crossing without breaking them. While they did labor in the village as a woodworker, they never had to strain their body the way they did now. Their calves ached and their lungs burned. There was also the uncomfortable burning feeling of foreign energy coursing through their veins.

After catching their breath, Lamb cautiously continued to the next room. At the sight of something burrowing out of a hole, their sword was raised in defense. They were met with Ratau, a rat. He reassured them that he was an ally to their God. Lamb breathed through their nose in amusement. What did Ratau look like when he served their Lord? It seemed hard for Lamb to imagine. However, they didn’t look much better in comparison minutes ago, with a tattered tunic and their hands bound in chains.

Lamb sighed, a bit upset watching Ratau burrow underground again, before continuing their wandering through Darkwood. If Ratau knew of a way to safety, why didn’t he lead Lamb there through the ground? Their thoughts were interrupted with a chaser worm crawling towards them, trying to ram into Lamb. Their breath hitching, Lamb dodged as fast as they could. Their slow reflexes led to them getting slashed in their calf by the worm’s twigs. A low hiss came from their throat, their grip on the sword loosening briefly. They held it steady once more and cut through the worm, then the next that followed. Lamb cleared three more areas of heretics; it was already deep into the night by the time they had reached a chest. Upon opening the chest, it held a single gold coin. They huffed, looking up at the sky. They could hardly see, considering how dark it was. Their sword was covered in blood, invading the Lamb’s senses and gleaming against the red hue of the crown’s eye, so they wiped it against their cloak.

Already breathless and tired, Lamb rolled their eyes when met with heretics and a tied-up, lavender rabbit. They seriously debated leaving her there to be sacrificed by the heretics; however, they held slight sympathy for yet another victim to the Old Faith’s blade. They hadn’t noticed Lamb yet, looking through the bushes, and they convinced themselves to leave the heretics to their own devices. As they were turning back around, a sharp pain pierced their skull. It hurt much more than last time. Groaning in pain and stumbling forward, they numbly gripped their sword in front of them before lowering it when seeing Ratau. Tired, Lamb tuned out Ratau’s speech about indoctrination and fought against their foes quickly, hardly noticing Ratau moving underground again. They tried to make their work as quick and as painless as possible, as to not scare the poor rabbit more than she’d been already. It was more for their sake than hers; they couldn’t have a traumatized rabbit as their first follower.

Cutting the rabbit’s bonds haphazardly, Lamb supported her to her feet. They felt their speech failing them as it usually did, Lamb avoiding eye contact momentarily. They had to say something, though. The poor bunny was crying and whining in fear on her knees. “Don’t be scared,” they forced out, “I know of somewhere safe. You can rest there.” Their voice was meant to be comforting, though she only let out a whimper in response. The crown teleported her to safety and Lamb quickly saw Ratau again.

“We’re safe now. You’ve done well so far,” Ratau praised. Humming slightly, Lamb thought about how that praise would’ve meant more to them coming from their God. They had half the mind to ask why Ratau didn’t help them more, tired and grumpy, though they held their tongue. It was early into the morning by the time Lamb got to the cult, dried blood caking into their wool. The fact that they killed so many heretics and enemies made them sick. Exhausted from their first day as cult leader, they laid down next to the bunny, Nana.

They watched her rest. Ratau told them to order her to work. They tried doing so immediately, though Ratau argued she deserved a break. Bitter, Lamb wished they had gotten a break before getting sent to do The One Who Waits’ work. They watched her chest rise and fall as she rested, getting a much needed nap. Lamb felt emotionally tired, their limbs sore, though sleep never came to them. Groggy and opening her eyes slightly, she saw her savior and smiled briefly. Her paw grabbed their hand softly. Lamb held back a noise of disgust, their hand burning up at the unwelcome sensation. Begrudgingly, Lamb stayed still and already wished for Nana’s death.

Present day, that promise didn’t hold true. Despite it being centuries ago, Nana continued to work throughout the cult, a golden necklace clasped to her fur. She worked as a farmer and as one of Lamb’s disciples. She was one of his most loyal disciples, in fact. Lamb noted how they could use this to their advantage. Besides Lamb’s hesitancy in the beginning, they grew to be an amazing cult leader. They were kind, hardworking, and great in combat. Of course, Lamb only cared about The One Who Waits’ approval; they could care less if all their followers had fallen ill and died. It was so draining to keep up this persona. Their followers idolized them too much to the point it made them sick. Giving babies blessings, listening to the elderly’s confessions before they passed on, comforting the ill till their final breaths; it was all too much. Lamb often gave themself a pep talk before facing their cult, hyping themselves up to please their beloved.

Smoothing out their fleece and playing with their wool slightly, they sighed deeply before forcing a slight smile on their face. When Lamb rose, it was signal for their flock to rise as well. It was time for their daily morning sermon and this one was possibly the most special of them all. The night before, Shamura had fallen to their blade and their master had praised them. Just recalling it made Lamb’s heart race. Many followers gave greetings as Lamb walked past and with a saccharine smile, Lamb sweetly returned the welcomings; their daydreaming of their god was interrupted. A chime went off that rung within the common grounds, signaling everyone to gather for Lamb’s speech. Cats, deers, dogs, and many other animals huddled within the temple, watching Lamb elegantly take place in front of the altar. Their legs stilled and Lamb opened their prayer book, thumbing the pages till they found the desired scripture. Although Lamb smiled calmly at their flock, internally there was indifference. They all looked like insects to them, lesser beings that Lamb would kill to crush under their feet. It took control and strength for Lamb to not let their mask slip as they eyed their followers. It was a bit easier today, however, because they could be reunited with their beloved soon enough. A genuine smile stretched across their face at this, their heart fluttering.

“Good morning, my flock. As you all know, thanks to your devotion and our God’s blessings, I was able to kill the last of his betrayers, Shamura. With them being slayed, our Lord may finally be free from his capturing. Rejoice, for I couldn’t have done it without my devoted following,” Lamb spoke, projecting their voice so their followers in the back could hear them clearly. Animals cheered in excitement, clapping and praising their leader. The words were in one ear, out another. Their words felt so empty to Lamb, making the constant aching within themselves much more present. Swallowing down their internal hollowness, Lamb continued, “You’ll be delighted to hear that our Savior has requested your presence, as well.” Lamb smiled and let their flock express their excitement, lowering their ears at the tortuous sounds as they grimaced slightly, “I declare a Sabbath today, as it’s an important one. After years of dedication, you can finally meet our Lord.” Lamb smiled, though the thought of sharing him with others annoyed them, “That is all, my faithful. Please enjoy the Sabbath.”

Floating slightly, Lamb felt the familiar warm presence of their devotion overtake them. Their eyes turned white as they happily absorbed their faith. It felt so strong today, given their soon meeting with Death. Once it ended, their hooves met the hard floor again and they blinked until their eyes were normal again. Dismissing their following, they were quick to leave and don their Sabbath clothes. Today was important and they didn’t like keeping their Lord waiting, though to keep up appearances, Lamb let their flock enjoy themselves a little.

Before meeting with The One Who Waits, Lamb nervously breathed in. They made sure their fleece and collar were adorned properly and that their face had no blood on it from their previous escapades. They were pleased to see their past markings had healed, so they removed their bandages. For such a big achievement, Lamb had hoped for praise in private. However, he stated at least twenty of his followers had to be present for him to be freed. Begrudgingly, they complied, with their followers trailing behind them like ducklings following their mother. Though this wasn’t how they envisioned this meeting going, Lamb would hate to disappoint their lord. With all of them joined together, they prayed on the marked stone with Lamb in the center, transporting all of them to Death’s doorstep. No matter how often Lamb was sent to the afterlife, the blinding hues of whites and creams never failed to hurt their eyes. It always felt cold in here. Thankfully, Lamb had thick wool; it didn’t make it that much more comfortable though. Lamb was beaming with pride, awaiting their love’s sweet words. They felt giddy and butterflies filled their stomach, their face flushed while being in the same realm as their God. They were snapped out of their delusions when they noticed they were met with weapons and curses at their disposal. The sight of it made their stomach drop. While he had mentioned Lamb would “lay down their life for him,” they didn’t take it literally. They thought it meant they’d spend the rest of their life devoted to him, which seemed like a dream. Lamb’s hopes were being crushed before them.

He spoke of how with Lamb’s death, he’d finally be freed and stronger than ever. Thinking to himself, Narinder was proud of his vessel’s work. He decided he’d give them a merciful death and they’d have a peaceful ending before being resurrected again, always at his side. Although he didn’t like admitting it, he had grown attached to this vessel in particular. He grew fond of them and wouldn’t mind their relationship developing into more. He brought a single claw down to Lamb’s head, patting and stroking the soft wool softly. It made Lamb’s breath quicken and despite this betrayal, they couldn’t help feeling swooned momentarily. Lamb wished time would stop here, with their beloved’s affectionate touch being all they felt. He didn’t know what he did to them. Weak to his touch, Lamb wanted to drop to their knees and be held in his hand. Lamb let out a slight whine, sighing. They felt dizzy. Lamb usually welcomed their God’s touch, but now it felt slightly tainted. The idealization Lamb held for their savior lessened slightly due to this betrayal.

He didn’t seem that bothered by losing his vessel, which stung. It brought out an icky side of Lamb they tried hard to control. Although Lamb had died countless times before, sometimes to their own blade just to see their savior, this was different. If Lamb kneeled for their sacrifice, that meant their beloved would eventually get someone new to worship them. Not a new vessel, but perhaps a new disciple. The thought of that made them sick, their face flushing slightly as possessiveness overtook them. They couldn’t let that happen; they forbid it. Narinder was theirs, their God, their beloved, their savior. It was fate that Lamb was the last sheep to be sacrificed. It had to mean something; it couldn’t just be a coincidence. It was destiny for them to meet their God. No, Lamb thought, he doesn’t really want this, he just doesn’t know it yet. Staring up at their God, Lamb felt hurt. It was very similar to when they were first resurrected in his domain, with that familiar helpless feeling they hated. Lamb couldn’t let him be taken away from them. He was theirs and they were his. It was fate. Fueled by their need to have their God as their own, Lamb refused to kneel. Although they didn’t know it yet, this was the best decision Lamb had ever made; to Narinder, this was the worst outcome possible.

previous chapter | next chapter

#cult of the lamb #cotl narinder #cotl lamb #narilamb #cotl #wisc #fanfic #fanfiction #wolf in sheep’s clothing #writing #wiscwriting

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weirdmarioenemies · 8 months ago

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Name: Insectiride

Debut: Mario Party 6

Mario and friends get up to all sorts of shenanigans! Many of these are dangerous shenanigans, and I would prefer not to get involved with them. If I were to fall in lava or be hit by a barrage of hammers thrown by a turtle, I would Die! I lament this fact, but I am no scrimblo. However, some of the antics are good safe fun, and that includes the act of racing in funny bug-shaped vehicles! I wish I could do that in real life!

Though there is a snail among these insects, for the sake of simplicity, I will call all these creatures Bugs. I usually reserve that term for arthropods, but I don't feel like saying "creepy-crawlies" a bunch of times in this post like some kind of Talking Flower. So Bugs. There are some people who'd call a snail a bug without even a disclaimer! Can you imagine that?

Players begin Insectiride by choosing their vehicle out of the four unique options! I think I played this minigame once and I THINK I used the grasshopper. I think it still might be my favorite! I'm sorry to this snail, but I don't like it much. It looks like pizza, and I like pizza a lot- I regularly observe #pizzafriday- but it's just not the sort of thing I'd like a snail's skin to remind me of.

Each of these bugs has its own control scheme! The player on the ladybug must press the indicated button ten times quickly to make it crawl forward a bit. The player on the grasshopper must press a sequence of various buttons to make it hop forward a few times. The player on the stag beetle must press each indicated button that appears one at a time, each press making it push along a bit. And finally, the player on the snail must press A when its body extends fully to make it pull the shell along behind.

When playing this with humans, there is probably no one Best Bug to reliably choose, since human reaction time must be taken into account. If playing against ambitious robots, however, there is absolutely an imbalance! In tool-assisted speedruns, Grasshopper is the winner, followed by Ladybug, Stag Beetle, and poor Snail in last...

Mario Party 6 is a Koopa Kid Game! And there is official art of him riding the funny ladybug mechanism! I'm glad he got to have fun here. We all know he isn't having fun where he is now... in the Purgatory Zone... poor kid. Oh well! That's life!

Those were the only four bug vehicles present in Insectiride, but in Mario Party 3's Ridiculous Relay, there was another! Way before all the rest! Here we have a Skeeter-inspired contraption, allowing the operator to maneuver across the surface of the water! I think this would be the main mode of transportation in Wet-Dry World, for those who are not already Skeeters. Between being a mecharthropod and having a strange control scheme that must be displayed to the player, I would not at all be surprised if this was an inspiration for Insectiride!

Now don't think you're getting out of this post without some real Bug Facts! Humans, of course, are much too large to ride on a bug. To be small enough to ride a bug, you would have to be a bug yourself. And some bugs do indeed do this! This is phoresy, the interaction in which one animal will latch onto another animal for the purpose of travel. Usually, the hitchhiker will be a tiny arachnid such as a mite (including ticks), or my favorite arachnid, a pseudoscorpion!

Phoresy is EXTREMELY funny to me. A teensy little critter will just grab onto the leg of a fly or something, and away they will go! Hang on tight! This is a type of symbiosis known as commensalism, where one organism (in this case, the one hanging on) benefits, while the other (the host) is largely unaffected. Humans riding horses is another example of phoresy! A human can be like a mite sometimes. Ok, see you later! *grabs onto a hoverfly's leg and flies away*

#insectiride #mario party 6 #ridiculous relay #mario party 3 #mario #mario party #mod chikako #phoresy

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doppel-doodles · 8 months ago

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Since everyone is making their own little version of the characters I thought I would join the fun for my Fallen crown Au! These were supposed to be quick little sketches just to get some ideas down but they still took me the whole day:'D will probably change as I draw them but I wanted at least something down on for the time being and I do like how most turned out!

Single versions plus some info and ramblings about each under cut for those interested:

My lamb was mainly based on both, yes the actual player character but also the vibes of my own plathrough which were very "oh god who let this child be in charge?-" while I'll still mostly just call them Lamb I figured they should still have a proper name so I went with my friends @/tamaruaart suggestion as it suits them rather nicely! And most note worthy detail is honestly just the fact that they carry something from each bishops realm on their person now, I like to think they treat those items like little trophies:>

Narinder is probably my weakest I feel like, he definitely needs something to give him some extra "ompf!". I basically made his undertaker fit a sorta reverse or at least loosely inspired by his white robes in game. I imagine he is very boney or a straight up skeleton underneath so he covers it all up beneath heavy fabrics, but because I lack subtly I still covered him in bones regardless-

And yea I kept the veil cause 1. It's a look and 2. It coviently covers up his now sewn shut third eye.

There wasn't much reason behind making him an undertaker, I simply thought it suited him, when your the former god of death you aren't exactly squeamish around corpses. Lastly the dark blues are there to contrast the other followers warm tones, as they kinda seen him as an outcast which is just fine for narinder he isnt exactly thrilled to be here.

I'll put Leshy and Heket together as they were sorta designed as a set.Since they are both youngest among the bishops I sorta latched onto the headcanon that they get along pretty well and just stick together after getting into the cult so they just share a lot of their duties. So I gave them some matching elements like the puffy shorts but also stuff that contrasts like Leshy having looser clothing and Hekets being more tight. Or Heket getting working gloves with a little belt to hold tools plus a hat for the sun, meanwhile Leshy will happily dig through the dirt bare clawed in the sun for hours-

I debated on giving Heket an apron but honestly I think she would only wear one while cooking or tending the farm plots there is no reason for her to wear it casually, the gloves though stay for I reason I utterly love because its PETTY-

Literally the only reason she keeps them on almost constantly is because when the lamb asks she can be like "ew, I'm not touching you with my bare hands." Yes, my humour is broken moving on-

I also gave Leshy a cane just so he actually has something to feel around with when he is areas he isn't too familiar with so he isn't running into crap- on that note, Heket can speak a bit but not exactly loud or for a very long time without seriously hurting her throat, once I properly learn it I definitely wanna draw her using sign language.

Lastly bodies, Leshy was based off a previous drawing I made of him in bishop form, I simply made it less monsterous but he is in charge of chaos so he had to remain a creature- Heket is more straight forward, she is a frog and she is large and in charge.

There was one reason why I made Shamura a tailor and that was the mental image of them sewing the bishops clothes when they were younger and dressing them up all cute.

I went for more pink colors mainly because I thought it better suited the purple and would make their red eyes pop! Honestly I really love their colors they remind me of a Berry! I've drawn shamura before but honestly the only things that stuck were the colors,face and then also the hand markings I did tweak their eyes a bit I wanted something more stern feeling.

For clothing I kept everything nice and loose, while they are the tailor I also love the idea that in their spare time they either teach the youths in the cult or are like the champion of the fighting pit because war is also their domain and they can be- so I wanted them dressed pretty comfy to deal with whatever may come! But still keep everything pretty mature and mildly fancy maybe in the future I'll do some fancy gold and silver embroidery to the pants because of that.

As for body type I wanted them to be pretty thin but unlike Narinder who is twink material under his cloak they have a bit more bulk on top to show that they can choose violence if they so wish-

I adore me some pathetic but still serving men, honestly except for the cross on his belt I completely ignored the fact I made him a medic- If he needs to treat something gross he can throw something over to protect his clothes but just like Heket there is no reason for him to wear that while not working.

Otherwise my main goal was simply to make Kalamar look pretty and fancy. I debated on either short or long bottoms until I realized I'd have to figure out his tentacle situation, then realized I don't hate myself THAT MUCH so bro got put into a floor length gown, work smarter not harder kids.

If I have an excuse to give a character a shawl I will take it so fast.

His body type I mainly wanted to flesh out the roster so I tried making him very squishy and huggable looking, I debated on thinner so he looked more dangly and stretchy but that made him kinda to similar to Narinders build for my liking.

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sugudoe · 5 months ago

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matchmake me bestie 😭

-I work with behavioral needs children, mainly in schools, dealing with tantrums from pre-school to grade school, from small tantrums to full blown, classroom destroying meltdowns (I love it)

-I love horror movies, animals, naps, audiobooks, and video games

-I am confident and I do *not* accept nonsense when people come at me or mine

-I have #anxiety

-I like to cook, I’m okay at it

-uh, idk what else to say. I am a person who is trying to survive in this world that is constantly trying to make it harder to survive 😭

hii bestie!! i was so anxious to make yours, and you are so cool, mwahh! also, you reminded me so much of my reader from “when i kissed the teacher” so i got inspired by it. 🤍 ps: sorry for only one pairing, i’ll be doing this from time to time unless i get confused on pairings — i have other works to post and the matchmakings are for fun, hope u guys understand.

✶ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: nanami kento

One can only take much before crumbling down. You left the Jujutsu world behind, locking away your cursed technique, devotion the attention you gave to curses and evil leaders to something more bright and better — Nanami Kento envied you, but he was also the one who was proud the most.

The male thought of you with high regards, good memories of an old life, sighing contempt coming back from a difficult mission, thanking the universe that you weren’t there. In this world of lives in danger and deep wounds, your presence was being required in a school, with crying babies and ripped shirts from tiny fists.

He missed you, could never not miss you, your lack of presence was sensed by every creature in the world — your CT was the ability to manipulate emotions, but it could affect you as well. Sometimes, you would go numb for days, and the high ups would dig themselves into you to achieve terrible missions anyone would deny. Nanami was the one to put his fist down, to get you away during those moments.

It was also his care and warm presence that brought your true self back.

You missed him as well, like sunflowers without the sun to kiss their faces, you missed his constant warm. It was a normal situation to find yourself with his number on dial, but never pressing the buttons, not knowing that on Tokyo, hours away from you, his actions were the same. Like a tangled red thread, you move and he moves the same way.

One day, one folds. You call him, happiness increasing in your aura when he says “Hello, angel.” with that sweet voice, you know he is smiling as large as you.

It’s months of cellphone calls, everyday updating each other of your lives. You tell him of your lovely and difficult students, who remind you a lot of Gojo. He tells you of the new students you haven’t met yet, nor do you ever will, both of you think.

Your voices is what keeps the other happy for the day, the last thing before falling to sleep.

One day, Nanami calls you before the designed time, before a mission, in Shibuya. He tells you he feels weird, maybe scared, but he refuses for you to come, even when you beg. Kento says he will call later, and that he loves you.

It feels like a goodbye, but the granted love of the universe falls for the two of you — he survives, and he does not want this life anymore. So with a quick goodbye to those he cares the most, Nanami moves to your city, in a coastal area, little house by the sea. Going to sleep with his arms around you and waves crashing in the distance, life finally becomes peaceful.

Nanami opens a little bakery, he often stops by your classes to drop some of his most tasteful breads and grant them to your students as well, they all love him very much. The two of you adopt a canine and feline companion, naming them after your friends from high school. They always cuddle at your feet on your large couch, while the two of you are watching movies, specially scary movies. Nanami loves to have you flinched from a jumpscare and crawling into lis lap.

Life with Nanami is very much simple, there is no need to control emotions or repress them, when you are daily showered with devotion and love and can reciprocate without feeling the dread that comes next. The world is not so hard to survive anymore, and when the anxiety can get too much, and thoughts spiral shaping into hurricanes, his arms can carry you back home, to the safety of his heart.

──── ✎ ° ⋆ FUN FACTS.

◛ ₊· Nanami does not disagree that you are a good cooker, but he much rather be the one making your meals, as a way of showing love and letting you rest.

◛ ₊· He loves to listen to audiobooks with you as well, while you both are on a road trip to the mountains or other beaches, you listen to it together. But, if asked, he would much rather hear your voice reading to him.

◛ ₊· Nanami loves how good and caring you are with the children, your patience as well. Anytime he catches you with your students or hears you’re talking about them, he doesn’t contain his smile. Secretly, he can’t wait to have some of your own.

#﹙ 𝑀. ﹚ ⠀─┈ ⭑⠀ ͏͏💍#jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader

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autistook · 3 months ago

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DAISIES - pt 20

Merry Brandybuck x fem!hobbit!reader / soft oc

Words: 6k

Summary: Merry begs Aragorn to let him ride to the Black Gate of Mordor with all the other men, but he is forced to stay in Minas Tirith and rest. He struggles with images of your pleading eyes and your cries of terror.

Possible TW's: Descriptions of PTSD

AN: A big shoutout to this fic for inspiring how to write Merry's PTSD. Thank you, thank you, thank you. And a huge shoutout to @gracefuldisasters for helping me find the fic with their stunning art.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

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Merry’s hand was finally starting to feel slightly warmer. His feet were dangling over the edge of the bed and the aroma of the athelas-plant was filling the air, giving him the tiniest amount of relief amongst all the sorrow and frustration in his heart.

“Please,” he pleaded quietly. “I want to come with you.”

Aragorn kneeled in front of Merry and took his hands between his palms. His gaze was sympathetic and understanding, but he had no choice but to forbid Merry from marching to the Black Gate.

“Merry, you were touched by the black breath. You need to stay and heal. We cannot risk you dying in a fight. You’re in no condition to battle.”

Merry’s head hung low and tears of desperation fell on his knee. There was not much hope, but he wanted to stand together with his friends - to the bitter end.

“Strider…”

“Merry,” Aragorn said warmly and squeezed the Hobbit’s hands gently. “This is an order.”

Merry did not respond. His heart broke in his chest and his shoulders slumped. He gave Aragorn a faint nod, barely detectable.

“My Lord?”

Aragorn turned his head and saw a man standing at the door. He was visibly a soldier, one alike to Aragorn himself - but even more so alike to Boromir.

“Faramir,” said Aragorn, still comforting Merry.

“Lady Éowyn,” said Faramir. “She requested to speak with you.”

Aragorn looked back at Merry, who was now looking at Faramir. To Merry he looked so alike to Boromir he might have mixed them up if it was not for Aragorn saying the man’s name out loud - and if it wasn’t for Boromir appearing behind Faramir, with his hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“Are you feeling alright?” Boromir asked, squeezing his brother’s shoulder, worry in his eyes. Merry had never seen Boromir quite so afraid and it dawned on the Hobbit just how close the brothers must have been.

“Better,” Faramir responded to Boromir, looking at Merry with newly found curiosity. When it came to halflings, he had only met Pippin before and seeing another creature so fascinating caused a weird sense of amusement in him. He smiled and Merry smiled back, although very faintly.

Boromir looked at Merry with pity. He knew the turmoil Merry was going through as he had opened up about it to him before. Boromir had adapted to his role as a sort of a big brother to Merry, and Merry had done the same thing back, finding Boromir as a brother figure from almost the day they had met.

Merry on the other hand took note of Boromir's posture, which was less sharp and sturdy than usual. His father had been driven to madness. Denethor had sent Faramir to Osgiliath despite Boromir's pleas, which caused Faramir to nearly pass, which in turn had turned Boromir against his own father. It was all too much for the Steward of Gondor, who then fell into such a dark place in the depths of his soul that he had burned himself on a pyre.

Aragorn gave Merry’s hands one last squeeze and stood up, his stance more kingly than when they had first met. He quietly made his way out of the room with the rest, leaving Merry sitting alone, drowning in his sorrow.

He thought of how pale you had looked and how red his hands were when he held you on the streets of Minas Tirith. He could not stop thinking about the pleading, terrified look in your eyes, and the feeling of your warm blood against his hands kept haunting him, whether he was awake or in a deep sleep - not that he could sleep that well; all of his nights were restless.

Merry thought of Frodo, Sam and Pippin; oh, how humiliating it felt to be left behind, to lay on a bed when everyone else was heading for battle.

And so he stood up shakily and ran to the gates of Minas Tirith and to the Pelennor Fields, where the army was gathering, preparing for their journey.

Merry searched for Aragorn, Legolas, anyone he could find and pleaded.

“Please, let me ride with you,” he begged, but it was no use; he was forbidden from riding. Forbidden from fighting.

His farewell to Pippin hurt the most. Even though Pippin had grown stronger and in height, he feared for him. Pippin had become more courageous and mature, but Merry still felt responsible for him and was horrified when he had heard Pippin was to ride to the Black Gate along with everyone else. His heart felt hollow. The only emotions left seemed to be fear and loneliness; he was alone.

Sure, Lady Éowyn and Faramir were there in the Houses of Healing, but watching their blooming chemistry after knowing each other for only a day or two tugged at his heartstrings. Humiliation and loneliness were nothing compared to the envy he felt; oh, to be walking around with someone he loved and holding their hand.

Your cries were ringing in his ear and he closed his eyes, trying to force the dreadful images out of his head, but it seemed that the harder he tried, the more the memories flooded in.

His heart hurt when he recalled Pippin's cries and pleas for help. His stomach churned when he thought of the horror in Gandalf's eyes when he arrived. The corners of his eyes got wet when an image of Gandalf carrying your limp body entered his mind again.

Merry sat down on the nearest bench he could find. Despite the calming surroundings, he felt worse and worse. He felt like his heart was going to rip out of his chest and he had lost most of his appetite - though not all of it; he was a Hobbit, after all.

Sometimes he would suddenly smell iron and smoke, although those things were nowhere near. This was one of those moments.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingers and shut his eyes tight. Even when the smoke in the air was not real, he felt like he was breathing some in and like his lungs would soon give up and turn into dust.

He smelled iron once again. His throat tightened and his stomach twisted. His nausea was almost hourly and at times he was seen by others, throwing up in the Houses of Healing. Pippin found him sobbing several times and offered all the comfort he could, despite the pain in his own heart.

Merry gagged. The smell of iron would not go away and he began to feel faint. His eyes were closed and yet the room felt like it was spinning out of control.

A delicate hand touched his shoulder.

“Merry?”

Merry opened his tear filled eyes and looked up at Éowyn, the look on his face hopeless.

“Are you feeling unwell?” she asked and Merry nodded, holding his belly quickly and trying to suffocate another gag. Éowyn kneeled and took his hands in hers. “Merry, how does the ground beneath your feet feel?”

“What?” Merry asked, confused.

“Describe it to me,” Éowyn encouraged in a gentle tone.

Merry moved his toes around a bit and took a moment to observe the sensations.

“Cold,” he responded. “It feels cold.”

“Does it feel even?” she asked.

“No, no it does not. It feels a little bumpy, yet smooth on the surface.”

“How do my hands feel?” she asked, allowing Merry to gently caress them.

Merry moved his fingers delicately over Éowyn's hands, taking in shaky, deep breaths.

“Soft,” he responded. “Like silk, almost.”

Éowyn smiled a little and squeezed his hands again.

“How does the bench under you feel?” she asked, encouraging Merry to focus on his senses some more.

Merry shifted in his seat slightly, his brows furrowing and head tilting to the left as he settled down again, focusing on the feeling of the cold marble. The sight of Merry moving on the bench so intensely made Éowyn amused, but she did not let it show.

“A little uncomfortable, if I'm being completely honest,” he said, his voice much more steady. “Cold, even through my trousers and it hurts my buttocks.”

Éowyn could not help but chuckle a little.

“Do you think you can open your eyes for me?” she asked carefully.

As Merry opened his eyes, the lady greeted him with a warm smile.

“Do you feel better?” she asked and to his amazement Merry realized that the smell of iron was no longer lingering in the air, and it was now replaced by the smell of athelas.

“Yes, I do, My Lady.”

“Good,” she said. She got up and sat down next to Merry, still holding his hands. “Do not drown yourself in sorrow and fear. It is not healthy to let it consume you.”

“Fear and grief seem to be the only things left in my heart, Lady Éowyn,” Merry said grimly.

“I already know that not to be true,” she said, her smile full of kindness and her gaze reassuring.

“Whatever do you mean?” he asked.

“I can see that there's still laughter and playfulness in your heart. I don't think your courageous and kind heart has given up hope just yet.”

Merry smiled very faintly.

“I feel… Éowyn, I keep seeing her bleed. In my head. I hear her hopelessness and I smell her blood all the time.”

Merry's voice began to shake and tears filled his eyes. His lips trembled and his fingers twitched as he began to fiddle with the hem of his shirt, hoping for the nausea to stay away.

“Merry,” Éowyn said with pity and compassion, her own eyes watering.

“I'm… I'm afraid.”

Éowyn put her hands on Merry's again, helping him to steady his trembling hands.

“Merry, it is no use to dwell in those thoughts. I think you should go see her and try to get rid of those current images in your head with how she looks now. Peaceful. Resting.”

“I go see her many times a day,” Merry confessed. “The help is only temporary. Seeing her so pale and still… It causes my heart to ache in a different way.”

“I think painting a picture of her like that in your mind is much better than seeing her fall apart over and over again.”

Merry knew she was right. He had to see you. It tended to help him, at least for a little while.

“Yes, yes,” he said with a faint nod. “You're right. I just…”

“I know you do,” Éowyn said quietly. Merry tried to smile but the corner of his lip simply twitched a little.

He stood up and straightened his shirt. He bowed kindly to Éowyn and started walking along the long hallway. His feet pattered on the cold floor and his heart felt uncomfortably heavy in his chest.

He stared at the door and took a moment to take some deep breaths. He looked at the carvings on the wooden arch of the door, wondering what their meaning was and how beautiful they looked. In some way they gave him comfort and the courage to step in the room once again.

The door creaked ever so slightly as Merry pushed the door. The room was rather dark, but through the windows some light came through; a gentle reminder to not give up hope.

Merry swallowed and walked slowly to the side of your bed.

Your face was pale and you lay still, as still as you had been for a few days at that point. The faint light shining from the window was giving your face a soft glow and highlighting the highest points of your face; cheeks, nose, lips - all the things that Merry loved to look at the most.

Merry for a short moment put his hand on your cheek and held back tears as he felt the coldness of your skin. He pulled a chair underneath him and delicately put two of his fingers on the pulse point of your wrist. He needed to know if your heart was beating.

Merry let out a sharp sniffle and exhaled from relief, yet still he was afraid. He looked at your chest moving up and down, reassuring himself that you were still breathing and had not left him.

He intertwined his fingers with yours and swallowed his tears.

“So,” he said shakily and cleared his throat. “Have you considered waking up yet?”

In a normal situation that pinch of humor would have made you giggle and Merry smile with pride, but there was no answer and he frowned. He thought that maybe by trying to act like his carefree self you just might wake up - so he continued.

“You know, it's quite rude what you're doing. Just lying there lazily when everyone is out there fighting. Well, almost everyone. Has… has no one ever told you that ignoring others speaking to you as often as I do is quite rude?”

He looked at your face and lips, expecting them to move and hoping for a sarcastic comment back; anything back, really. But there was nothing. Merry sighed and hung his head low.

“Just please, wake up,” he whispered, closing his eyes and holding your hand.

He scooted as close to the bed as he could and laid his free hand on your belly, not quite around you, but close enough for him. He laid his head on the bed and looked at you, his cheek squished against the mattress. He looked at your peaceful face, afraid to close his eyes as he feared he might wake up with you gone.

Every time he saw you there he began to memorize your features and this time was no different. Merry spent half an hour staring at your face, taking in every little detail. As he did that, he thought about how much he missed the subtle movements of your expressive ears.

Eventually his eyes began to flutter shut and no matter how he tried to fight it, his head and upper body molded against the mattress and his grip on you loosened as sleep took him over.

The first dream he had was a memory from ages ago. A memory of you and him sitting alone in an empty Green Dragon, spilling secrets and sharing stories you had never told anyone before. Your smile made the empty room radiant and even in his sleep Merry thought of himself as a fool; how had he not realized his feelings for you then?

He dreamt about the time Pippin blew some pipe-weed smoke into your lungs from a rather close proximity and the weird feeling it gave him - jealousy it was, of course, but he had not realized it back then.

He dreamt of the note you had written for him; the note that he unfortunately lost during the journey.

His mind was spinning in his sleep. Many more memories flooded his mind, until he had the same dream he had had every night since you got dangerously wounded.

He dreamt of the evening of your birthday party and the look on your face when you were presented with the daisy brooch. A wide smile was on his face in the dream like it had been back then, and the way your body moved on the dance floor as you were twirled around was mesmerizing, even more so in the dream.

He stepped close to you and put his hands on your lower back, the lights of Brandy Hall dim around you two, like there was no one else.

“I don't know how you do it,” you said with a slight echo in your voice - that's how Merry knew it was a dream, a repeat of a memory.

“Do what?”

“That. You always find a way to cheer me up. I feel guilty and sad over the stupidest of things sometimes, yet you always come through for me."

“You make it sound like it's a big deal.”

“It is a big deal, Merry! You make me feel special and important.”

“You are special and important.”

“Merry?”

“Yes?”

“You need to wake up,” you said kindly.

“I… I don't want to,” he stammered. “I need this.”

“But I'm hungry.”

His face twitched. What?

“What?” he asked. “What did you say?”

“I'm hungry,” you repeated.

He blinked slowly and shook his head, confused. You had never said it before when he dreamt of this night. You squeezed his hand gently as the two of you danced.

“Merry?”

Merry's eyes fluttered open slowly. The morning had come and the bedsheet felt warm under his cheek. His hand was resting on your belly and there was a small amount of drool dripping from the corner of his mouth. Merry lifted his hand to wipe it off - but he wasn't able to. Something held his wrist nearly completely still, although delicately.

He turned his head, feeling dazed and groggy. His vision was slightly foggy but when it got clearer, there was no doubt; you were holding his wrist, not allowing him to move away and shaking him gently.

“Wake up,” you whispered raspily and smiled softly.

Merry’s eyes widened so much he almost could have been thought to be an owl. His stomach fluttered and he sprung on his feet, and in an instant he was holding your hand. He stood there staring at you, his eyes sparkling like the surface of the Brandywine river on a sunny day. Never had you seen someone so relieved - or Merry smile so wide.

Before you had time to react, he was peppering your face with affectionate and firm kisses, his palms on your cheeks and tears of joy rushing down his face. Merry kept thanking out loud - no one specific, just saying ‘thank you’ repeatedly - and you giggled softly at the sensation of him planting kisses against your skin.

“How long have I been asleep?” you asked through your giggles.

“Too long,” Merry responded, sniffling and kissing you around your cheeks and jawline. He put his lips softly on the tip of your nose and then rested his forehead against yours. “Tell me I'm not dreaming.”

“You're not dreaming,” you confirmed softly. Merry let out a relieved chuckle, his eyes closed as he rested his head against your forehead. “Neither am I, but I am starving.”

“Yes, of course!” Merry said, clearing his throat and standing up straight, wiping his tears. “You haven't eaten in several days.”

“I could eat an oliphaunt.”

Merry let out a loud laugh. Of course your comment was not very funny, but Merry was so overwhelmed he found it the funniest sentence he had heard in his entire life.

“You were muttering in your sleep about how you didn't want to wake up. Here I have been starving, desperate for you to be awake and help me get some treats,” you said, overly dramatic. “And you just wanted to keep sleeping!”

“Ah, immediately turning into a very demanding lady when waking up from her beauty sleep,” Merry joked. His sense of humor had come back as if a lightning of joy had struck him and made him feel like himself again.

“Oh, please. I think you were the one having a beauty sleep, drool and all!”

Merry chuckled. Without a second thought he cupped your face with his hands again and put his lips on yours. Not wanting to waste any time, you responded to the kiss, moving your lips against his softly. Your head was spinning and so was his; you had not kissed since Edoras and it was all still very new.

Merry broke the kiss first, searching for your gaze.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, concern and pure love etched upon his face.

It took you a moment to come up with an answer. Your stomach was stinging but not too painfully, and your body was aching from laying down on the bed for so long. You felt relieved having Merry so close, but on the other hand you were worried about what was happening outside the Houses of Healing.

“I feel alright, I suppose,” you finally responded, playing gently with Merry's stray curls by his ears. “Just starving and a little achy.”

“How achy?” he asked, his gaze affectionate and his thumb caressing your cheekbone.

“A little. It's mostly my limbs.”

Merry nodded. You could see his gaze drift to your lips every now and then. You smirked lightly but decided not to say anything about it.

“How about your stomach? You were wounded badly.”

“It stings just a little,” you said. A thought occurred. “How did I survive? I was certain I would bleed to death.”

Merry swallowed and turned his gaze away, visibly uncomfortable with the subject.

“We all thought you would, but Gandalf managed to control the bleeding long enough for the king to heal your wound.”

“The… king?” you said, blinking rapidly.

“Oh, yes. Aragorn. Apparently he is quite a big deal.”

“How did he… oh, well, it doesn't matter. Can I speak with him? I would like to thank him.”

Merry went quiet. He looked at you, then away, trying to figure out how to tell you.

“Merry?” you called, now deeply worried. “Has something happened to him?”

“No. At least not yet.”

“What do you mean?”

And so Merry explained it all. He told you how everyone had left for one final battle to distract Sauron and give your brother and Sam a chance to sneak through Mordor and destroy the One Ring. He explained how he was forbidden from riding with them and how miserable it made him - although he also mentioned many times how much better he felt now that you were back with him. As much as it stung Merry, it broke your heart a little more.

You wanted to be there for Frodo. To protect him. Sure, he was one of Merry's best friends; but he was your brother. Not by blood, but by all other means Frodo was your family.

And oh, how much you feared for Pippin. No matter how much he had changed, he was still the same old Pippin in many ways and there was a part of you screaming to run after him and keep him safe.

“Do you think they will return?” you asked.

Merry did not answer.

Merry put down a whole tankard of water on your bedside table and brought you all the bread he could find. His arms were full of baguettes and he laid them on your lap as you were laying on the bed, under the warmth of a blanket.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, mouth full of bread and crumbs falling down on your chest. Merry smiled.

“This is quite a familiar sight,” he grinned.

“What?” you asked, doe-eyed and puzzled.

“The crumbs all over you and your chubby cheeks. It's your signature look for whenever we have eating contests.”

“Oh!” you giggled, blushing slightly. “Is it really?”

Merry nodded, his expression affectionate.

After you finished devouring almost all of the baguettes Merry had brought, he sat down on the edge of the bed, gently holding your shoulder as you laid on your back.

“How is the wound healing?” he asked.

“I do not know,” you responded. You swallowed and blushed, very visibly.

“Are you alright?” Merry asked as he noticed the flush of pink on your cheeks and the tips of your ears.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” you said, immediately piquing Merry’s interest. “But could you take a look? I'm not very comfortable looking at such things.”

Merry blushed. Of course he had no problem with looking after you, but the action felt quite intimate, considering he would be lifting up parts of your dress, all the way to your belly and exposing your skin to his gaze.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, please. I need to know if it still looks bad. I'm already tired of being in bed and I want to know if I can move around.”

Merry nodded.

He pulled the lightweight blanket to your ankles. His hands gently gripped the hem of your dress and he began pulling it up. Merry’s eyes followed the parts that were being revealed and he found himself admiring the smoothness of your skin. As he lifted the dress past your thighs, he took note of the stretch marks on them and thought to himself: ‘Those are the most beautiful marks I have ever seen.’

He blushed deep red as he lifted the dress past your hips. In his mind there were no proper words to describe your beauty. He simply found you so, so beautiful. When he reached the wound he let go of the white dress and exhaled, not having realized he was holding his breath.

He gently ran his fingers across the scar, examining the wound with a focused look on his face.

“Does this hurt?” he asked, gently pressing around the wound with his fingers. You shook your head.

“No. It feels alright.”

Merry pressed on and around the wound, only a few spots stinging slightly when touched.

“It's healing well,” he finally said and put his palm on the wound. “Kings really do seem to heal even the deadliest wounds. I think it's safe to say you can walk around - with me, preferably.”

You chuckled and he joined. His hand still rested on your skin as you gazed into his eyes. The green and blue eyes gazed back at you, something special in them - something deeper than affection.

His touch on your skin sent a wave of warmth through your body and heart. Even though it was an intimate gesture, it was not sexual. It was pure and innocent, a moment of deep, mutual affection. A moment of realization that between you was the kind of love you both had thought existed only in fairytales.

Neither of you were ready to say it out loud, but the unspoken words were clear to both.

Almost every waking moment you spent together. Every now and then Merry would leave you alone with the healers to let them tend to your wound and you did the same for him, for his arm still needed some healing.

On one day you barely spoke to Merry; he was spending time with Faramir, exchanging stories about Boromir and Éowyn, while you were spending your day with who you felt like had become your big sister.

“So, Faramir, huh?” you smirked and Éowyn sighed. Your friendly jab did not land as well as it normally would; her heart seemed troubled. “Éowyn?”

“Hm?” she responded, clearly feeling blue.

“What’s wrong?” you asked. Éowyn shrugged.

She explained her conflicted emotions. Yes, she found Faramir rather fascinating and undeniably handsome, but her heart was full of sorrow from Lord Aragorn not reciprocating her feelings. You talked to Éowyn about her beauty, bravery and strength in length and told her how much happiness she deserved.

And it seemed to have worked; they kept close to each other, more so than before. Yes, they had held hands before, but suddenly it was different.

You climbed up a small step and rested your arms on the white marble edge. The sky was still dark and the rumbling sounds of Mordor could be heard all the way to Minas Tirith. The aftermath of the battle where you were wounded was still visible when looking down the walls of Minas Tirith and to the Pelennor fields. Collapsed Mûmakil here and there, some corpses trapped underneath them and a lot of rubble. Most of the deceased had been taken away from the field and many of them had already been buried before the people marched to the Black Gate.

Suddenly there was a hand on your shoulder; a familiar, warm and comforting touch. You turned your head to your left and saw Merry had come to stand next to you and look down at the city, the field and the shadow over Gondor. When you looked down you saw Merry was not standing on a step like you were; he no longer had to because of how much height he had gained from the ent-draught in the Fangorn Forest.

“Do you think Frodo ever made it through Mordor?” you asked, now staring towards the direction of the borders of Mordor.

“The shadow still lies upon us, but there is a chance he and Sam have made it through Mordor, even though the chances are very little,” Merry responded. You frowned and began fidgeting with your fingers. Merry took notice of this and took your hand in his. Hiis fingers intertwined with yours, making you instantly feel at home.

“It’s been days since everyone left. Do you think we have lost?”

“Well, aren’t you optimistic!” Merry said with a faint smirk and nudged your side, trying to cheer you up through his own worries. Normally it would have made you at least smile a little, but you were concerned for not only your friends and brother, but for all of Middle-Earth. Merry sighed, let go of your hand and instead wrapped his arm around your shoulder and squeezed you tightly. “Don’t give up hope.”

“Have you not given up hope?”

Merry smiled.

“I had, but then you woke up.”

And then you smiled back at him, wide and fondly, your eyes glimmering with admiration and gratitude.

When you looked right, you could see Faramir and Éowyn holding hands not too far away. Faramir kissed her brow and your heart filled with warmth seeing the woman you cared so much about receive such care and adoration.

A gust of wind blew and threw your curls in your face, making Merry chuckle out of sheer amusement. His chuckle died soon, as the white walls of Minas Tirith began turning into a glittering shade of light gold as the darkness set aside and the sun came out. You stared in awe as the river Anduin began to shine blue and silver, and Merry stared at you, admiring the way the sunshine lit up your face.

“The shadow. It has been lifted!” yelled someone down below and many men cheered.

You turned to look at Merry, catching him already staring at you. His eyes were full of uncertainty for what the sun coming out meant, but they were also very clearly full of love and admiration for you and the way you looked in that very moment.

Before the sun set down, an Eagle brought news beyond hope. The Ring had been destroyed and Sauron had fallen.

Merry looked at you with glee and there were stars in your eyes. He scooped you up in his arms and spun you around, a loud giggle of joy erupting from your lungs and your heart sang with joy. Your feet were off the ground for quite some time as Merry kept you in his arms and poured all of his relief and happiness out all at once.

“Did you hear that? Frodo and Sam succeeded!” Merry cried and laughed, his eyes misty. You nodded and nuzzled your face against his neck. Then he finally put you back on the ground. He caressed your jawline with his thumb and leaned in, his lips landing on yours in a moment of passion.

His kiss was intense and full of devotion. You responded to his kiss eagerly, smiling on his lips and soft giggles leaving your mouth. He smirked as he felt your giggles on his lips and he kept kissing you, his hands moving your waist and yours to the nape of his neck. His lips tasted like happiness and his scent filled your nostrils, making your heart swell and stomach fill with butterflies.

When he broke the kiss he was once again laughing; not at you or the kiss, but out of sheer relaxation. Frodo had succeeded. The Ring had been destroyed.

In the following days Merry was summoned to the field of Cormallen and you followed his steps. It took a day or two to make it there, but when you got there, another wave of relief hit you at once. Frodo was alive. Sam was alive. Pippin was alive. All of them wounded, exhausted and unconscious, but all of them alive nonetheless.

Pippin had taken down a large troll in the battle and had nearly passed, which made you feel rather panicked. Merry had to calm you down despite his own growing worry for his best friend. You both were told he was going to be alright, but despite the reassurance, it was not easy to look at him lying there, unconscious and hurt.

Frodo and Sam were deep asleep, nor would they wake up anytime soon. Frodo was missing a finger and both of them had lost so much weight, they were almost unrecognizable. You spent hours holding your brother’s hand and Merry spent hours holding yours.

Soon enough Pippin was awake and the two of you kept him company more than enough. You learned that Gimli was the one who had saved Pippin from his doom and in a whirlwind of emotions, you began planting kisses on the dwarf’s scruffy cheeks. Merry and Pippin laughed as Gimli blushed and began mumbling incoherently. More than anyone else, Legolas found this reaction the most amusing thing he had seen in weeks.

You spent a lot of time helping the wounded and helped arrange a celebration for the Ring bearers. Aragorn was taking his time healing the wounded as well and spending a lot of his hours on his kingly duties.

You sat on some rough sand away from the tents and lifted your knees up. You rested your arms on them and admired the way the sun shined, and the way a beautiful spring weather was already making its way to the people of Gondor.

Merry sat next to you.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, putting his hand on your arm, softly stroking it. This time the smile you gave him was slightly faint.

“I’m alright,” you responded, but Merry noticed that your tone was just a little off.

“Are you?”

“Yes, but I’m just thinking.”

“Thinking?” he said, puzzled.

“Yes, thinking,” you said. “Thinking about how wrong this all could have gone. We could have died. Frodo could have died. Pippin could have died. Sam-”

“Hey, hey,” Merry said, now putting his other hand on your back, moving it in comforting circles. “All of those close to us survived. Your friends survived. My friends survived. Frodo survived. I survived. You survived.”

Merry emphasized the last part; you had indeed almost died, but now it hit you just how lucky all of you were.

“We survived,” you said quietly.

“We survived,” he repeated, his hand still moving on your back.

He looked into your eyes and you into his. It seemed like you could drown in his eyes, so beautiful and comforting they were. The way he looked at you was new to you, and no one had ever gazed upon you with such appreciation. If it was possible, there would have been hearts in his eyes. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest as it felt like he was looking straight into your soul. Not in a bad way, but in a way that seemed like he had known you many lifetimes and knew all there was to know about you.

“I love you,” he suddenly said.

Your ears perked up and your heart skipped a beat. You had known for a while now that you loved him deeply and were aware he had to feel the same way, but never had you heard those words from his mouth before.

When you were feeling happy, your ears tended to flutter. When you were sad, your ears were droopy. This time when Merry looked at you after his confession, he could see that your ears were moving more rapidly than he had ever seen them move and how they were practically vibrating with happiness. You felt euphoric.

“I love you too.”

On his face formed a smile full of love and devotion, and soon enough his lips were once again moving meaningfully against yours. His kisses felt right and nothing like you had ever felt with anyone else before.

It felt like everything in the world was right again. Of course, it was not, but in that moment you finally knew what it really felt like to be in love.

NEXT CHAPTER

---

@chatteringfox @shiinata-library @ahobbitsjourney23 @mayo-advance @datglutengoblin @mournthewicked @channiesbedbug @nicksworld0715

#lotr #lord of the rings #daisies #lotr merry #merry brandybuck #meriadoc brandybuck #merry x reader #meriadoc x reader #merry brandybuck x reader #lotr fic #lotr fanfic #tolkien #the lord of the rings

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littlethingsinlife · 2 years ago

Text

i'm sorry (happier part 2)

A/N: I was not expecting the amount of positive feedback for the first part and I was even more surprised to see people asking for a part 2! It was originally created to be a one-shot but a part 2 really fit well with how the first one ended. Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you again for all of the love and support! I hope you all enjoy. I also want to thank my friend, @tummymoth, they really helped me flush out and refine my rusty ass writing (also let me word vomit at them till midnight sometimes).

Pairing(s): Past Lo’ak x Omatikayan!Reader, Ao’nung x Omatikayan!Reader, Slight mentions of Lo’ak x Tsireya

Warnings: Lo'ak's POV, Swearing, Ao'nung saying something sus ONE time

More Info: My vision for this part 2 was to create a reply in Lo'ak's pov. So we'll have a look at what he experienced and thought process (not too sure if any of that made sense) but I was inspired by Joshua Bassett's song "i'm sorry" and it played constantly as I wrote this. Hopefully I was able to do right by my idea haha.

Summary: 7,547

Part 1: Happier

Key:

(Y/N) = Your Name

Lyrics = Bolded Italics

Flashbacks = Italics

Na'vi Words:

Yuey - beautiful (refers to a person)

Skxawng - idiot/moron

Marui - Pods where the Na’vi live

Ilu - sea creature similar to dolphins

Ikran - dragon-like creature

Tulkun - sentient creatures similar to whales

Olo’eyktan - clan leader/ chief

I thought about what I would say

But I’m two years too late

I can’t imagine how you’re doing these days, hmm

Sure, it wasn’t perfect back then

I’ll be first to admit

But it was better than being strangers again, oh

It had been a couple of months since my interactions with (Y/N) dwindled to terse smiles and barely audible greetings. If you asked me to point out the moment our friendship started to change, I couldn’t tell you. When did our bond start to break? When did it even start to crack? We used to talk every day about all the things we did and planned what pranks to pull on everyone, but now? Now, she barely looked in my direction. Now, she wouldn’t even give me the time of day.

I couldn’t remember when it started, but I knew that it was somehow my fault I grew distant once we arrived in Awa'atlu. I guess I was just so fascinated by the new environment and people, I didn’t even realize a rift started to form between us in the first place, much less that it started to grow.

The night before we left to find a new home, I held (Y/N) as she let out sobs filled with fear and anxiety. It broke my heart, but all I could do was hold her and let her cry until she was calm enough to tell me what was on her mind.

“I-I am afraid, what if the sky people come to find us again? I cannot lose any of you; it would break me into a million pieces,” she sobbed.

“If they find us then we will fight and we will win,” I reassured her, gently rocking her back and forth.

“You are an idiot, I was so close to losing you, to losing Kiri, Tuk, how do you think it would make me feel to lose the most important people in my life?” she sniffled. My chest ached at how broken she sounded, but the only thing I could do was assure her and offer her more words of comfort as I held her in my arms.

“I promise that I will be with you throughout the journey as will my family. We love you, and even if you do not believe it, you are a Sully. And you know what my dad always says.”

“Sullys stick together,” we chorused.

That night, I cradled her in my arms until she fell asleep.

Fuck, I completely broke my promise to her, how could I forget? Shaking my head, I tried to reason to myself, “Maybe she just needs time alone. I’m sure she’ll come running back soon once she realizes that it's no fun without me, her best friend.” I felt a small, unfamiliar feeling in the pit of my stomach. “Right?”

I’m drunk too late talking to the moon

Writing songs I can’t sing to you, ‘cause

“Bah! Stop lying, I know you (Y/N). You would have fought alongside me and defended Kiri. You are not the same girl I knew in the forest back home,” I muttered, rolling my eyes and getting up to leave. Honestly, who did she think she was fooling? The skxawng had the balls to insult Kiri, and all she did was sit back and watch. She didn’t even make a move to help until it was to help him by pulling me off. “Talk to me when you’ve come back to your senses,” I called over my shoulder, refusing to look back.

“Lo’ak! Bro—” a hand roughly grabbed my shoulder, jolting me out of my daze, “why’re you just staring off like that?” I whipped my head to see who the hell it was that was bothering me, only to be met with Neteyam.

“Did you have to grab me that hard?” I hissed before my initial anger gave way to a heavy feeling. “It's nothing, just—just lost in thought” I sighed, shrugging his hand off my shoulder.

“Right, sure, nothing.” he crouched down beside me. “Don’t think you can lie to me lil bro, you’ve been spacing out more than you usually do. I didn’t even think it was possible to be more empty-headed than you already are,” he stated.

“Wha—no I haven’t,” I tried to argue, but of course, he wasn’t convinced.

“Can you stop arguing with me for once and just tell me what’s going on with you, you skxawng?”

I scrunched my nose in distaste and inhaled sharply, “(Y/N) and I have been… distant,” I admitted, turning to look at him. “She won’t even look at me. She either only answers me with one word or doesn’t answer at all.”

He nodded, motioning for me to continue.

“I—the last time we talked, I said things I didn’t mean. Things that just came out because I was so frustrated and… and angry. It was the heat of the moment and I—”

“What did you say skxawng, did you hurt her?” Neteyam interrupted, face twisting to show the beginnings of distaste.

“No, no—” I sputtered and raised my hands to calm him before he could go on an hour-long lecture that I absolutely was not in the mood to hear. “At least I don’t think I did… I just wanted to ask her why the hell she was helping fish lips, that’s all—”

“You didn’t answer me Lo’ak, what did you say to (Y/N)? I don’t care why you did it, I want to know what you said to elicit such a reaction from her.” By Eywa, if he would just give me a chance to get to the point—

“I—I told her that she was not the same girl that I knew back in the forest..." my ears lowered as the weight of what I said slowly sunk in. “And that she could talk to me once she came back to her senses,” I whispered, internally cringing at my harsh words..

“You fucking skxawng—”

“Can you stop calling me that? I already know, you don’t need to keep repeating it…” I scoffed, looking out into the ocean. I’m good enough at beating myself up over the hundreds of times I’ve messed up in this lifetime, I didn’t need another disappointed set of eyes on me.

My ears twitched at the deep sigh he let out. “Look, I’m sorry that I keep calling you skxawng but that is exactly what you are for saying something so hurtful to your best friend of all people. The two of you were inseparable the moment you were born. Even if you don’t want to, suck up your dumbass pride,” my ears flattened again. It wasn’t pride, I’m not prideful. It—it was me needing (Y/N) on my side. We used to always be on the same page, and when she said I was wrong for wanting to defend Kiri against those assholes, it felt like she was siding with them instead of me, and—

Okay, so maybe it was pride.

“Admit that you were wrong, and go talk to (Y/N),” Neteyam insisted as he put a reassuring arm around my shoulders, jostling me around to prove a point. “Your friendship is so much stronger and Eywa knows that a heat-of-the-moment argument isn’t going to break that. You should have more faith in her.” His gaze sharpened before he schooled his expression into something calmer. “Just talk to her, yeah?”

“...Yeah,” I mumbled, swallowing down whatever argument was trying to bubble up from my throat and prying his arm off me. “You’re right. I’ll just clear things up with her and apologize. Everything will go back to normal after that, thanks bro—for listening,” I agreed.

Ever since that day

The things I didn’t say They haunt me, oh

And I know that I’m to blame

So, go ahead and

Blame it on me, oh

Our lessons on the ways of the Metkayina were finished, so it was rare for the entire group to be in the same place. But every once in a while, we all finished our chores at the same time and found ourselves near the shore where we first learned to ride the ilu, and sat around a fire hours before eclipse, laughing and exchanging stories.

The rarity of these moments made me cherish them that much more, but two people continued to miss our not-so-scheduled gatherings the past two moon cycles. How was it possible that they were the only two to keep missing our hangouts? Were they together? Fish lips had better not be doing anything to (Y/N) or so hel—

“(Y/N)! Ao’nung! You guys made it!” Rotxo laughed.

“Yeah, yeah, quit shouting will you?” Ao’nung shot back as he sat down next to Rotxo, (Y/N) smiling softly as she followed.

“So, what’ve you guys been up to? We haven’t seen you in what feels like ten moon cycles.” Neteyam questioned.

“Teyam, you saw me earlier today, you literally helped me feed our ikran,” (Y/N) joked. ‘Teyam? When did she start calling him by anything other than his given name?

Ao’nung swatted her side with his stupidly wide tail and swung an arm around her shoulder with a remarkably punchable smile on his face “More like he was trying to make sure you didn’t accidentally give them your fingers for breakfast. They would’ve gotten indigestion.”

“Haha very funny Ao’nung,” she drawled, “I would’ve fed you to Tekay instead, but she would’ve gagged the moment she caught a whiff of you,” she scoffed as she quickly pushed him away by the chest.

“Wait… Do they even have a gag reflex?” Fish lips didn’t budge, he just had a dumb look of confusion on his face.

“No, but they would defy the laws of biology to gag just for you,” she quipped, sticking out her tongue and moving to push him away again, but the skxawng had the nerve to pull her into a headlock.

“Oh, yuey, the ikran won’t be the only ones gagging on me tonight,” he argued with a smirk.

Did I want to punch that smirk off his face? Did I want to gag? Both? Before I could make a decision, (Y/N) grimaced, pushing him away again and smacking him upside the head.

“That’s actually repulsive. You’re disgusting.”

“Dude, keep it in your pants, her family is right there,” Rotxo laughed, doubled over as he struggled to catch his breath.

“Yeah, we’re right here,” I interjected with a smile—wanting to join in on the jokes that were being thrown around—but it was hard to keep my face from falling when I saw (Y/N)’s bright expression falter.

“Anyway, what were you guys talking about before Ao’nung and I arrived?” she asked in a too-bright tone of voice she only used when she desperately wanted to change the subject. As if everyone came to an unspoken agreement to forget about the conversation before, one by one they all started talking about who they thought would win in a fight—Toruk Makto, or our Olo’eyktan, Tonowari.

The sound of laughter and excited chatter faded as I replayed the previous conversation in my head. When did they start joking around like that? Why the hell did fish lips call her yuey like it was the most natural thing in the world? How come she smiled so easily with him but faltered when she sees me? She was probably smiling with him right now—

I looked over at her, a pit in my stomach already forming at the idea of her smiling at him, but she looked so distant, so withdrawn from everything around her. Before I could even blink, she put a delicate hand on Ao’nung’s arm to grab his attention and mumbled something in a hushed tone. After a few beats of silent conversation, Ao’nung nodded and gave her a look of understanding.

Why did he look at her like that? How much time did they spend together to be able to understand each other with just a look? How much time have I wasted breaking my promise to her while she grew closer to someone else?

Standing up, I made up my mind that I would talk to her and clear up any miscommunication. There was no way in hell I was about to let fish lips ruin our childhood friendship. Before I could even get close, Neteyam pulled me aside.

“Bro, why’re you glaring at everyone?” he asked with concern written all over his face.

“Glaring?” I tilted my head in confusion. “I’m not glaring, this is just my face.”

“No, no.” He shook his head. “I’m your brother, I know your face. Whatever look you’ve been throwing at Ao’nung and (Y/N)? You may as well have been throwing knives at them.”

Behind Neteyam, I could see (Y/N) get up to bid everyone good night and slowly walk in our direction. This was my chance, I just needed this overbearing idiot to leave me alone.

“Whatever look you think I’m giving to them, you’re wrong,” I denied. “Can you not act like this right now?” My tail flicked side to side impatiently, an obvious twinge of annoyance clear in my tone. I licked my lips nervously as I could hear footsteps coming closer. Leaning slightly to the side, I looked behind Neteyam to see (Y/N) and—

Ao’nung? What? Why is he there?

“Good night,” (Y/N) muttered, not sparing us a glance as she walked past. I followed her every move and—as if everything slowed down—my eyes narrowed as they found Ao’nung’s hand placed on her lower back, leading her gently in the direction of the marui.

I know that I’m too late

But I’ll say it anyway

I’m sorry

Though it's far too late

“I did it! Did you see that Reya?” I shouted—out of breath—as I showed off the shell Tsireya threw.

“Yes, yes you did it!” She exclaimed, excitedly wrapping her hand around mine. For someone who spent so much time underwater, her hand radiated so much warmth. So easy to hold. My heart swelled with pride as she continued to compliment me. “You’ve improved so much!”

“Yeah? Well, I had a great teacher,” I joked, nudging her softly with my shoulder. It wasn’t just her hands that were warm either, she just seemed to radiate it.

“Oh stop, you flatter me too much,” she denied, fidgeting with her hair. Was that a blush on her face? “C’mon, why don’t we catch up with the others? Private lessons are officially done for the day,” she announced as she led me to shore. Oh Eywa, she looked so pretty like this, with her hair flowing down her back and the way her eyes cast down when she became flustered. And her smile, it was a smile that could knock the air out of my lungs.

While we walked onto shore, we joked around and laughed with each other, talking about anything and everything. The ease of each reply and joke came as smoothly as gliding through the water on an ilu—as easy as breathing. Laughing at another one of Tsireya’s jokes, my eyes scanned the village as we approached it. Families were winding down for the day as they cooked dinner, although I didn’t see mine anywhere nearby aside from Kiri.

My smile slowly dropped when I was able to make out Kiri looking frantically around as if she was searching for someone. Tsireya and I made our way to her, worry filling the pit in my stomach. As we got closer, I could see Ao’nung climb down one of the roots of the Mangrove trees and make a beeline toward her. My eyes stayed on both of them, making sure that fish lips didn’t do anything to Kiri.

Ears twitching I was able to make out the words, “(Y/N)? Did you find her? ” from Kiri as they were carried on the wind toward us.

“Yeah I did, I was able to get her to eat, but she’s not looking too good,” Ao’nung replied with concern lacing his voice.

Brows furrowing, I pulled Ao’nung by the shoulder. “What do you mean she’s not looking good? Where is she? What did you do?”

“What the hell do you mean? I didn’t do shit, freak.” I rolled my eyes at the insult. He couldn’t use that thick head of his to think of anything else to call me? From the pained look on his face, I could tell that my grip on his shoulder had too much pressure. Good. Served him right.

Before Ao’nung and I could continue our argument Kiri groaned, “Will the both of you skxawng shut up! I’ll go talk to her.” My eyes followed her retreating form as she went to talk to (Y/N)—tail lashing back and forth in agitation all the while—before turning back to Ao’nung.

Who the hell did he think he was? I’d beat his skxawng ass if he hurt (Y/N) in any way. He had no right to look so damn worried. They weren’t even close. What even happened? How long had she been missing for Kiri to go to fish lips of all people for help? Should I follow Kiri? Why didn’t (Y/N) come to me? She always came to me, and if she came to me now, I absolutely would have listened. Why—

“Lo’ak? Hey, are you okay? Lo’ak?” a hand softly placed itself on my arm. Closing my eyes in frustration, I sighed.

“Yeah, perfectly fine.”

Damn it, was that when it started? How idiotic and blind have I been that I didn’t even notice that her trust in me started to slip and die when it was right in front of me? Why didn’t I go to her and make sure she was okay? I should’ve punched that idiot’s lights out—

“Ao’nung! Stop pulling me you skxawng, you’re walking too fast, slow down!” a hushed voice chastised.

“C’mon yuey, we only have about an hour before eclipse, we have to hurry!” His voice grated against my ears as he responded.

“That’s plenty of time!” (Y/N) insisted. I could hear the laughter bubbling up in her voice as she chased after him. “Please Ao’nung slow down, I can’t keep up.”

“It can’t be helped, you’re so short—” a whack could be heard. “Ow!”

“I’m as tall as Tsireya, you giant!”

“Both you and my sister are short—Ow! Alright, just because you did that, you leave me no choice,” Ao’nung said, throwing (Y/N) over his shoulder with a laugh.

The bickering voices got closer, and my eyes narrowed at the way he held her. My breath hitched as he whispered something in her ear that made her ears perk up and her eyes widen. What the hell was he saying to her? Before I could spring up from my spot, Ao’nung tossed (Y/N) in the water, her yelp quickly interrupted by the sound of her body hitting the water.

I stayed in my spot as shock zipped through my body. Letting out a breath I didn’t know I held, her head popped out of the water, a playful glare on her face.

“I told you, you left me no choice,” he stated, guffawing at her expression.

“Oh yeah?” she groused, spitting out seawater as she wrung out her hair. “Well fuck you too. Help me out of here?”

“Only if you say the magic word,” he taunted, crossing his arms with a smirk. “Otherwise, I’m afraid my hands are tied.”

“Please, oh great son of our Olo’eyktan, help me out of the ocean,” she beckoned dramatically, sarcasm dripping from every word while she rolled her eyes. “It’s about time you recognized my proud lineage, forest dweller,”�� he said as his chest puffed out with a hand reaching towards (Y/N). And there was that stupid smile on his face.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, a mischievous smile spreading across her face as she reached for his hand, making sure to tug with enough force to unceremoniously yank him into the water.

“So much for the son of a great warrior! Your instincts are shit!”

“My instincts are dull you say?” he questioned as his head popped up next to her. “We’ll see about that!”

“Wha—AHHH—'' she wheezed. “No, please Ao’nung stop! That tickles!” Her arms flailed wildly in an attempt to free herself from his grasp.

What the fuck.

My ears flattened at an angle as I tried to process the scene unfolding before me. When did she start laughing with him? That should’ve been me she was laughing with. Not him, not the skxawng who had been nothing but rude to us since we arrived. What… what was I even saying—Fuck I didn’t know anymore. Why did I feel like this every time I saw them together… laughing and making jokes like we used to?

And it was me, it wasn’t you

It’s cliche, but it’s true

I wasn’t thinking how I usually do, oh

And is your momma doing well?

Or does she still hate me?

But it was hard to watch me put you through hell

I’m drunk, too late, talking to the moon, ooh

Writing songs I can’t sing to you, ‘cause

Two weeks had passed since I started noticing the changes in (Y/N)’s relationship—friendship?—with Ao’nung. It was like every time I blinked, I could see her laughing loudly as Ao’nung tickled her with a triumphant smile on his stupid face. Since that day, I had been trying to find a way to talk to (Y/N), but she was never alone. She was always with him and when she wasn’t, she disappeared and I couldn’t find her no matter how hard I looked.

Now here I was, wandering around trying to look for her as I rehearsed what I wanted to tell her.

Where could she be? Dinner was in an hour and she wasn’t anywhere near our marui. I had to find her soon so there would be enough time for us to talk. I had to tell her that I miss her, that I was sorry for being so dumb, that I shouldn’t have let my pride blind me, and that I didn’t mean any of the things I said.

There was only one place I hadn’t looked yet… hopefully she was there.

As I was getting closer to the root Kiri stalked to, I could see two silhouettes beside each other. An all-too-familiar feeling bloomed in my chest once I registered that she was there with him.

Her melodic laughter made my steps falter. I clenched my fists tightly, contemplating if I should go over there and pull her away, force her to talk to me, to listen. But I couldn’t, I couldn’t do that to her, not when she looked so content, so happy.

Ever since that day

The things I didn’t say

They haunt me, oh

I know that I’m to blame

So, go ahead and

Blame it on me, oh

“Lo’ak? You said you were going to look for (Y/N) and never came back. She’s already in the marui helping mom cook,” Kiri stated, a twinge of annoyance lacing her voice. “Hey, are you listening?” She shook my arm slightly, making me jump out of my stupor.

“Yeah, sorry, you said dinner was ready?” I asked as I stared off.

The sand beside me crunched softly as Kiri made a move to sit beside me. “No, I said that (Y/N) is with mom helping her cook. Where is your head at?” she asked as she tilted her head to try and meet my gaze. “Are you alright?” The annoyance in her voice shifted to concern.

“I’m fine, yep—just… fine,” I brushed her off, hoisting myself up to head towards Mom and Dad for dinner before Kiri yanked me back down.

“Lo’ak, don’t pretend you’re okay when you’re not. Tell me what’s going on,” she urged. “Maybe I can help you with whatever it is that’s occupied your mind lately.”

I inhaled sharply, debating if I should tell her what had been muddying my mind, the reason why I had been so spaced out, why I had been glaring daggers at fish lips each time I saw his stupid face next to (Y/N)—how confused I was.

“Stop with the thinking skxawng, you might hurt yourself,” she admonished. “Just tell me. It’s not like I can’t handle it.”

Huffing, I rolled my eyes and turned away from her to look at the sea. I hadn't even said anything yet and Kiri was already making me feel idiotic. How was I supposed to tell her what's been going on like this? Maybe if I kept quiet for long enough, she would get tired of waiting for me to start talking and go on to eat dinner without me.

A couple of minutes of silence passed.

I could still feel her staring at me.

“I’ve—I’ve been conflicted,” I started, tongue feeling heavy in my mouth as I continued to stare at the shoreline. “I don’t know what I’m feeling.”

“What do you mean?” Kiri nudged my shoulder with hers. “Elaborate a little more, I can’t help if you don’t tell me the reason why you’re feeling confused.”

“...Whenever I see (Y/N) with Ao’nung, it’s as if I can feel my heart aching,” I said, motioning toward my chest to prove my point. “There’s always a… a surge of anger that rushes through me. All I want to do is pull her away from him so then everything can go back to the way things used to be—for us to be okay.”

“Lo’ak…” If I was looking at her, I’d probably see Kiri tilt her head with sympathy. But sympathy isn’t what I needed right now.

“I want her to look at me and smile, to laugh with me, hug me—but now, whenever I get close to her, she’s next to him, laughing with him, cracking the jokes we would make to each other… I just—” I rubbed at my face in frustration. It wasn’t as if the words were hard to come by—I had spent so much time bottling them up that it was hard to stop talking. No, I just hated the fact that I felt this way in the first place. “I don’t understand why seeing them makes me feel like my heart is about to explode—why it makes me want to scream. It hurts.”

“Lo’ak” she put a hand on my shoulder. “Are you—are you in love with (Y/N)?”

Love?

I sputtered in surprise and whipped my head toward Kiri to see if she was joking or not. What kind of a sick question was that? I wasn’t in the mood for any games.

“What? No, she’s like my… sister?”

She rolled her eyes and sighed. “If you’re not, then why does seeing her with Ao’nung hurt you so much? Why do you care as much as you do?”

“I shouldn’t!” I wrenched my shoulder away from her hand and stood up. The need to move around and do something—anything—was too much. There was too much energy thrumming right beneath my skin to sit still anymore.

“That’s the problem! After everything I said to her, done to her? I don’t have the right to say I’m in love with her. She’s my childhood friend, Kiri. That’s all our relationship has ever been… I just—” I paused in thought and tried to calm down. “I didn’t realize seeing her have so much fun with someone else would make me feel so, so hollow—”

“Let me ask you something, you have to promise to be completely honest with me, okay?”

I nodded, not even looking in her direction.

“When (Y/N) tried to pull you off from Ao’nung that one fight months ago, what did you feel? Angry? Betrayed? Jealous?”

Jealous? Did she really think I was sulking for months because of such a petty feeling? I’m not a jealous person. I never have been.

“Seeing her jump in to get me off him made me feel like she was siding with him and telling me that I was wrong. Her actions were clear as day to me, Kiri.” I started to pace around. “She was protecting him—caring for him when she should’ve been next to me, helping and supporting me. When she did that—I felt like the only person that’s ever been on my side—” I croaked and turned my head to look at Kiri as tears stung my eyes “The only person who didn’t see everything I did as some sort of disappointment or failure, abandoned me and chose someone else.”

“...”

“I know that I could’ve approached her a different way but how could I when I felt so broken?” I inhaled sharply, eyebrows furrowed. “ It’s all fish lips’ fault. If he wasn’t such an asshole, none of this would have happened, and (Y/N) and I would still be the same, she would still be by my side—supporting me, loving me.”

“Why do you keep blaming it on Ao’nung?”

“Because it is his fault that things have turned out the way it has.” I threw my hands up, exasperated. What wasn’t Kiri getting? “He’s getting in between my relationship—er—friendship with (Y/N)! If he wasn’t there I would be able to talk to her and tell her I’m sorry, but she’s always with him—”

“Stop! Are you hearing yourself?” She nudged at my foot to interrupt and scoffed. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? (Y/N) told me what you said to her, how ‘she wasn’t the same girl’ you knew back in the forest. Do you know what happened when you told her that? Do you know how much pain she was in?”

Pain? I snorted, turning towards Kiri. “Now I know what you’re saying is bullshit. You know how (Y/N) is—if she really was pissed at me she would’ve come to me instead of running to someone else.”

“She wasn’t pissed. She cried because of you, Lo’ak. Because of what you said.” I stopped dead in my tracks to look at her. Kiri's eyes didn’t waver. Another heavy feeling settled on my chest and clawed its way up my throat. If you had asked me what it was, I wouldn’t have been able to tell you. Was I sad? Guilty? Angry? Was I jealous like she said?

I settled on anger.

“If you’re saying what I think you’re saying—”

“The person that found her that night, the one who comforted her? That was Ao’nung. He held her in his arms as she sobbed when I found them.” She stood up too, forcing me to stop pacing.

“The last thing I want to hear about right now is him, Kiri. What the fuck—”

“Did you ever think about why she’s so comfortable with him now? Why they’re so close? While you ignored her for weeks, he made sure she was okay—made sure she ate every day. He didn’t leave her side until she finished,” Kiri pointed out, and before I could even think to open my mouth to remind her how shitty he was to her especially, she cut me off. “Yes, he was an asshole at the beginning, and yes he has a screwed-up way to show he cares, but he stepped up when you fucked up.” She poked my chest with a glare before she continued.

“Oh, so I’m a fuck-up now?” I asked wryly.

“You can’t put all the blame on someone that took care of your best friend. Stop being so blinded by your pride and hatred and see that you’re the real reason why your relationship with (Y/N) isn’t the same as it used to be.”

My heart sank a little more as I scrambled for something to say. “How could you say that—”

“No, you do not get to interrupt me right now, Lo’ak.” Her eyes flashed with something closer to anger than annoyance. When was the last time I saw her angry? “Listen and listen well. When we couldn’t find (Y/N) and we were looking for her everywhere—he was the one that found her spot, the one she isolated herself to so she could cry alone, and no one would see how much pain she was in. And what were you doing in the meantime?”

My ears flattened at her rising tone, and I was finally beginning to understand the weight stuck in my throat and chest. Not anger, not even jealousy.

“You were out there with Tsireya, stuck in your own little world.”

It was my fault.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m really happy that you found her but you can’t have both of them. You can’t be that selfish. From (Y/N)’s perspective, you’ve already chosen the one you want.”

“It’s not like I’ve actually chosen anyone yet,” I tried to interject, but all the fight had left my voice as Kiri’s words dug into my skin and sunk in.

“Don’t you dare play with either of their feelings. (Y/N) held so much love for you in her heart, she allowed herself to break to the point of no repair because she didn’t want to show you how much it hurt her to see you at your happiest with Tsireya.” She paused before continuing, her voice losing its edge. “Let her move on, brother. And if it’s Ao’nung that makes her light up the way she used to, then you suck it up and let him. He was there when your pride wouldn’t even let you apologize or even look in her direction. Actually think about how she feels for once.”

I hated the fact that there wasn’t anything I could say to prove her wrong.

“It’s all I’ve been thinking about nowadays,” I muttered.

I know that I’m too late

But I’ll say it anyway

I’m sorry

I’m sorry, hmm

I’m sorry

Though it’s far too late

“I thought I was already doing that,” a faint voice huffed in annoyance. Turning the corner, I saw Ao’nung and (Y/N) standing on the beach together— far too close for my liking.

“You were, but you got sloppy. Here, you have to move your hips like this,” he said as he corrected her posture. My ears flattened against my head as he put a hand on her hip and gently directed her movement.

Why did he look so gentle with her?

“Ao’nung,” (Y/N)’s voice rang out, clear as crystal despite her uncertain tone. “Are you sure you should be teaching me this? This is a traditional Metkayina dance, right? I’m…” she hesitated, her voice becoming smaller. “I’m not Metkayina—”

“Yet.” He interrupted, holding her face in his hands. “You are not Metkayina yet. Once you become one of us, you will have to learn the dance to celebrate the return of our spirit brothers and sisters, so why not learn that now?” I hated how reassuring his voice was. The thought of how either of their eyes looked as they held contact made my stomach turn.

“Yeah… you’re right,” she mumbled with an unsure look on her face.

“Woah, hey pretty girl, look at me,” he insisted, laying his hands on her shoulders and bending his neck so they were at eye level. “I’m serious when I say you will become Metkayina one day, so don’t worry yourself over it right now. Okay?” Ao’nung tilted his head to the side, an unbelievably soft expression on his face. “You have me here to help you.”

“Alright…” (Y/N) mumbled, not convinced.

“If you don’t get rid of that look on your face I’ll throw you into the water,” he said as his face shifted from sincerity to something mischievous. “Or worse… I’ll tickle you,” he threatened.

“You better not Ao’nung, or I swear to the Great Mother herself I will hu—AHH—get away, you skxawng!'' She laughed as she tried to run away, but Ao’nung grabbed hold of her waist and pulled her into his arms. And despite her words of protest, it was clear as day that she was leaning into him while they scuffled on the sand.

“No!” she shrieked with glee. “You can’t make me go in there again!”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, forest dweller!”

A thought occurred. Should I go up to them? We never got the chance to talk, after all. I took a few steps in their direction before freezing. When was the last time I heard her laugh like that? She had the biggest smile on her face, and the one who made that happen wasn’t me—it was him.

And if you ever hear this

I hope you know that

I’m not proud of who I’ve been, ooh

And if I see you again

I hope you know that

I wish you nothing but the best

And my biggest regret

The afternoon was quiet, relative silence only interrupted by the crashing of waves. Without much to do, I just sat in our marui and lazed around with Tuk until a horn blew.

“The tulkun have returned! Everybody—our brothers and sisters have returned!” Tsireya’s voice rang out, and when I poked my head out to see what the fuss was about, I saw the megawatt smile on her face, as she swam by on her ilu.

The village came to life as everyone mounted either ilu or canoe to make their way to the tulkun. From here, I could see little more than a large group of dark shapes making their way through the water. Payakan himself was dauntingly huge, but to see a whole pod of them show up like this? It was spectacular. I watched the commotion unfold from one of the walkways, lost in thought before I felt water splashing at my feet.

“Come on Lo’ak! Don’t just stand there, let’s go see the tulkun together!” Tsireya urged, still smiling. Shaken out of my stupor, I grinned widely—diving into the water and clambering onto her ilu. lu may be lithe animals, but I could still feel sinuous muscle under velvety skin as it made adjustments in the water to keep balance.

“I’ll come, but only if you’re offering a ride,” I joked, gently holding her waist and playfully leaning onto her. The cool water around us made her skin feel that much warmer. It was nice.

Before I could see her reaction—I would’ve bet anything at that moment that her cheeks had become flushed—we began to quickly make our way toward the rest of the clan and the giant tulkun.

The air around me vibrated with the excitement and happiness of loved ones returning, and Tsireya was no exception—the speed of the ilu gave away her eagerness to be with her spirit sister. As we leaped into and out of the water, Tsireya’s laughter was carried by the wind and reached my ears. That, and the answering whoops and bellows of Metkayina and tulkun alike, was almost contagious enough to get carried away by the energy surrounding us.

“My spirit sister is down there,” she said as she dismounted, sliding off her ilu and into the water. “Wait here, yeah?” she smiled at me before diving down.

I was more than happy to watch the Na’vi around me. Looking around, I was in awe of the sheer amount of tulkun gathered in one area, and how each Metkayina was able to identify their spirit sisters or brothers so easily. Looking down into the shifting waters, I saw Tsireya catching up with her spirit sister, waving her hands around and swimming through the water alongside her.

All around, I could hear people telling stories and the deep, booming calls of the tulkun as they responded with tales of their own. New parents were showing their babies and calves, and as my eyes scanned the horizon, I could see small children holding onto the tulkun’s fins as they were lifted to the glittering ocean surface.

Not too far away, I heard the sound of a body hitting the water and the sound of grating, but familiar laughter along with an indignant (Y/N) sputtering.

“Ao’nung, what the fu—”

“Hey, hey, relax! It’s just some water. There are children here, yuey,” Ao’nung chided with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“The parents of those children are going to have to explain what it means to return to Eywa once I’m through with you,” she retorted, treading water and becoming even more unamused when he raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Woah there pretty girl, you’re talking to the son of the mightiest warrior in all of Pandora—”

“That’s funny, I don’t see Neteyam here,” she interjected, pretending to search the waters around them before turning back to Ao’nung and tilting her head, “do you?”

“Just because you said that you can have fun finding your own way back to shore,” he said as he turned his ilu around.

“Oh, c’mon Ao’nung, don’t be like that,” she rolled her eyes and reached a hand towards him. “You’d really leave me here to fend for myself?”

He turned and wagged a disapproving finger at her, “I’ll consider forgiving you if you say word-for-word that I’m the son of the mightiest warrior in all of Pandora. I can’t have you slandering my father’s name, yuey.” She groaned and leaned back into the water.

“You couldn’t pay me enough to say that load of bull—”

“Nope!” he didn’t give her a chance to defile the ears of any nearby children and crossed his arms. “I wanna hear you say it.”

“...”

“I’m still waiting.”

With a sardonic smile, she finally caved. “Why don’t I do you one better? You’re the mightiest warrior to exist since the time of the First Songs,” she declared, sarcasm dripping from every word as she slapped at the water for emphasis.

“That’s what I thought, was that so hard?” Even if I wasn’t able to see them, I still would have been able to hear the stupidly wide smile that made its way across his face.

“Don’t be such a big baby and let me meet your spirit brother!”

“Just because he’s here to visit today, I’ll let that one slide for now.” Ao’nung rolled his eyes, dismounting his ilu to join (Y/N). “Now hold on tight and hold your breath like how we practiced.”

We? Who the fuck was we? Why was he allowing her to meet his spirit brother? Why were they looking at each other like that?

I watched both of their silhouettes submerge and breathed deeply, forcing my thundering heart to calm as I slowly sank my head into the water. At first, all I could see were blobs floating around in the water, but once my eyes adjusted, I could see the fluid movement of Ao’nung talking to his spirit brother. Eyebrows furrowing, I swam a little closer and hoped that I would be able to see what was being signed. With each movement made, it was clear that Ao’nung was translating the clicks and bellows of the tulkun to (Y/N), and whatever was being said made her smile widen by the second.

I couldn’t watch anymore as my chest burned from the lack of air and I resurfaced to catch my breath. For once, I was thankful for the lack of lung capacity I had. I climbed back onto Tsireya’s ilu. Seeing as she wasn’t back yet, I sat back and leaned on its neck to face the sky.

Did she always glow like that when she smiled? Whenever she was with him—she always looked so happy, so vibrant. Would she have looked like that with me by her side if I didn’t push her away? If I was there for her like I had promised? I wanted to tell her sorry—that I was sorry for taking our friendship for granted, for making her go through it alone. I wish that it didn’t take seeing her smile and laugh with someone else to make me realize how I felt.

I willed my tears to go away.

Is this how she felt? Seeing me with Tsireya? Great Mother… I was truly horrible, wasn’t I? I wished things turned out differently. Maybe in another universe, I did talk to her—realized sooner, made her happier—but now? Right now, my heart was torn in two, watching as someone else picked up the pieces of the heart I crushed. No amount of words could fix what we used to have, and even though I wanted to whisk her away, tell her I love her—that I see her—that seeing her with him made my skin crawl, I knew I couldn’t. I was no longer worthy to be part of her life, because of me and my actions alone.

I had become nothing but a stranger.

Ever since that day

The things I didn’t say

They haunt me

I know that I’m to blame

So go ahead and

Blame it on me, ooh

I know that I’m too late

But I’ll say it anyway

I’m sorry

Hmm, I’m sorry

Oh-oh-oh-oh, I’m sorry

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