#no because I��m speed running fandoms at this point

[wolfnight2012]

So is the fandom at large still characterizing "Open Arms" as the ~pacifism~ song or have we gotten past that?

Like, I don't know how keen Polites was for violence as a soldier in the Trojan war, since we meet him after the fact & lose him soon after.

But "Open Arms" doesn't tell us about his capacity for violence. It barely tells us about his thoughts on violence as an option.

The most we can infer from "Full Speed Ahead" and "Open Arms" is that Polites doesn't believe violence is the only option (or the one they should jump to first.)

But that's not even what "Open Arms" is about (not really)

"Open Arms" is about Polites noticing Odysseus' trauma & trying to help his friend heal.

The first lines of the song are:

"I can tell you're getting nervous, so do yourself a service"

Here "nervous" isn't being used to mean "scared" but rather "anxious" or "tense." I think Polites is calling out the fact that Odysseus is going 'fight or flight' mode despite everything being calm/no threat in sight.

He then tells Odysseus to have hope.

"Think of all that we have been through, we'll survive what we get in to"

He then starts to call out Odysseus a bit more explicitly (and notice how Odysseus does not contradict him. After his first [and unconvincing imo] "I"m fine, Polites" Odysseus doesn't speak again until the lotus-eaters show up)

(Btw, if you wanna read my breakdown of Polites & Odysseus' relationship [as explicitly depicted in EPIC], I wrote a post about it here)

"I know that you're tired of the war & bloodshed" <-We the audience also know this: "Will these actions haunt my days/is the price I pay endless pain?" (Plus killing Astyanax messed him up)

"Tell me, is this how we're supposed to live?" <- Must we remain in that kill/be killed mindset, always on alert, always warriors first, men second?

"Look at how you grip your sword, enough said" <- I think we can infer that Polites is either calling out the fact that Odysseus hasn't let go of his sword since they left the ship (aka always in 'warrior mode' aka "is this how we're supposed to live?") OR that Odysseus is white-knuckling his sword, (aka he is nervous/ anxious/stressed about a potential attack despite no visible threats)

Either way, in Polites' eyes, this mentality is detrimental to his friends' mental and/or emotional health.

Then we get to the point where I think the misunderstanding started & ended up overshadowing the rest of the song:

"You can show a person that you trust them, when you stop and lower your guard" <- I think we can take this literally (lower your sword until you actually have need of it) or figuratively (be ~emotionally~ vulnerable by asking for help.)

"This life is amazing, when you greet it with open arms" <- It doesn't have to be "endless pain" Life can be beautiful, but you have to stop closing yourself off/seeing everything as a threat first

Polites is arguing that the world is not always out to get you. Sometimes people are decent. Sometimes they are willing (or want) to help you.

It's a bit of "Try extending your hand in greeting before reaching for your sword" (Not everyone will be friendly, but you won't know if you are aggressive from the get-go.)

And a bit "Life is what you make of it" (if Ody treats every stranger like an enemy, then that is what they'll be.)

"We'll be fine if we're leading from the heart" I talk a bit about this in my response here. TLDR; Odysseus is lying to himself when he says he can "Lead from the heart & see what starts" in "Luck Runs Out" because that is not what he is doing,(and his reward is the windbag betrayal) MEANWHILE he does successfully "lead from the heart" while warding off Circe's advances & it's what saves his men/gains Circe's sympathy.

"No matter the place, we can light up the world, here's how to start" <- Again, life is what you make of it. You can make it a good one; not everything is an enemy/potential threat. Stop being a warrior first & go back to being a man

Of course, this doesnt immediately work, because Odysseus greets the world with his sword when the lotus-eaters show up

(Tbh, I find it hilarious that the lotus-eaters' FIRST word is "Welcome" and Odysseus responds to a Friendly Greeting by drawing his sword)

Like, Odysseus is genuinely seeing a threat here, he IS scared "nervous"

His first words to the lotus-eaters is a demand/warning for them to "stay back" (and both their cute voices [going off audio only] or their canonical fluffy designs tell us these are tiny things. They have no weapons, they haven't indicated any aggression, but Odysseus is so high-strung he sees something he might need to fight anyways)

THIS is what Polites has been refering to. THIS is why he's so concerned about his friend. That is not healthy and Odysseus is buckling under the weight of living in "survival" mode/always being "on"

"My friend, greet the world with open arms" <- this isnt Polites horrified Odysseus is responding with aggression/concerned for the innocent lotus-eaters, THIS is Polites (knowing Odysseus is tired of war & bloodshed) reminding his friend that he doesn't have to put himself through this. There IS another way. These creatures could be friendly, "Maybe they'll share some food, who knows?" Maybe, maybe not, but they won't know until they extend a hand first & ask.

And Odysseus does it by half measures *cough* just like all his actions after "Just a Man"*cough*

He lets the lotus-eaters know of their plight "We're only here for food" and threatens them in the next breath "600 men are waiting/stay back, I'm warning you/my men will turn this place into blazes"

He doesn't even ask for food/help, he simply lets the lotus-eaters know they're searching for food, then immediately piles on three additional threats to make sure they don't try anything.

Then of course the lotus-eaters offer food, but not food they can eat & Odysseus becomes dejected (which I think implies he was [sorta] listening to Polites, or at the very least, is so tired/stressed/wrung-out that he was secretly hoping it could be as easy as Polites claims.)

And Polites tries one more time.

"I'd like to show my friend that kindness is brave" <- I've seen so many people call Polites naive. That his optimism is too extreme/and not fit for the world (or at least the world of EPIC) but i would disagree with this common interpretation as well.

Why is kindness brave? If Polites believed greeting the world with open arms would help them find ONLY friendly strangers (instead of hostile ones or outright foes) then why would kindness be brave. Wouldn't it simply be? After all, what's brave about a sure thing? What's brave about having a get-out-of-danger-free card?

Kindness is brave because sometimes you WILL be met with hostile strangers/foes. But you extend your hand in peace first anyways. You don't know for certain if you will be met with friend or foe. But that does not mean you walk around, one hand on your sword, seeing enemies at every turn. You greet the world with open arms & give strangers the benefit of the doubt first, THEN use force if necessary.

I see Polites' philosophy as similar to Waymond's from EEAAO in that regard.

Polites, like Waymond, is choosing kindness. Is choosing to be optimistic. Not because he is naive to the ways of the world, but in spite of them. That is how Polites fights against darkness & despair. He is not naive.

When Polites tells the lotus eaters he'd "Like to show my friend that kindness is brave" he knows he's taking a risk. That's why it's brave. He is extending his trust to these creatures in the hopes they'll help/they have no ill intent, BUT being Well Aware he could be met with the latter.

Just because he's optimistic about the outcome doesn't mean he doesnt understand the risk. To refuse to dwell on the negative doesn't mean you're unaware of negative possibilities.

Then Polites reiterates his advice "This life is amazing, when you greet it with open arms" because it doesn't have to all be war & bloodshed & stress. You CAN find goodness in the world, and you'll feel much better if you don't assume everyone & everything is out to get you. And he lets Ody know he's aware of what he's going through/what's upsetting him.

"I seen in your face there is so much guilt inside your heart" <- I genuinely don't know if the crew know Odysseus dropped Astyanax, every time Odysseus references the infant, it's vaguely or as an aside. But even if Polites DOESN'T know Odysseus killed an infant, he still has 10 years of war to draw from (plus the wooden horse/killing sleeping Trojans bit.) Like, Polites is aware of what Odyssues has done, he knows what Odysseus is grappling with. This is not a simple/superficial/naive call for Odysseus to 'cheer up!' Polites knows of the darkness weighing on Odysseus' shoulders & he's telling Odysseus he's allowed to put it behind him.

"So why not replace it, and light up the world" <- He's allowed. It's over. It's behind them. Polites does not want his friend to torment himself forever. Whatever he did, he can move on. He can be a better man that what he was forced to become while at war/Troy (remember, Polites is well aware Odysseus is "tired of the war and bloodshed".)

And how can Odysseus begin to heal from his guit/trauma?

"Greet the world with open arms" <- stop seeing every stranger as a potential enemy/threat. Open yourself up to the possibility that good things happen sometimes. Sometimes, people are kind

"Greet the world with open arms" <- and Odysseus begins to tentatively open himself up to the concept & take Polites' words to heart

"You can relax, my friend" <- you're allowed

Sidenote: I told myself this post would ONLY be about Open Arms (and this ended up being SO Much longer than I anticipated) but I have a few more things to say, so I'll try to be brief.

Warrior of the Mind:

I'm convinced Athena pops in when she does because Odysseus is listening to Polites. He's been eaten by guilt since Astyanax & shyed away from violence in Full Speed Ahead. His nervousness is not very "warrior of the mind" of him. YET Athena doesn't come in to scold Odysseus at any of these points.

It's only when Odysseus sings Polites' chorus back to him, signaling he's opening himself up to the concept of open arms that Athena makes her entrance.

Polyphemus:

I'm not asserting this, but I think the argument can be made that Odysseus checks out the cave because of Polites. Like, either:

A.) He's giving Polites' advice a try here & now by trusting the lotus eaters/that they mean no ill-intent OR

B.) (less likely probaby??) His friendship/affection for Polites is the sort where he wants to please him. Polites is set on trusting the lotus/showing Odyssues "another way" & Odysseus will humor him because it's Polites asking

(Tho obviously the other explanation is that they are just THAT desperate for food & Odysseus doesn't think they have time to go searching for yet another island when this one (the lotus eater one) already turned out to be a bust

Underworld:

I feel like the general consensus for Polites' section of "Underworld" is that Polites died still seeing/believing in the good of the world OR that his dying wish was for Odysseus to chose nonviolence/pacifism???

(But as you can tell from *gestures at this entire post* I don't subscribe to the idea that "Open Arms" is about nonviolence. THEREFORE)

We know Polites last words/action in life was calling for Odysseus. And, imo, Polites' dying wish was for Odysseus to heal. If "Open Arms" is about Polites' calling out Odysseus' stress/trauma & trying to coax Ody to approach life differently so he can start to move on from the horrors of war.

Then that means, in death, Polites is stuck hoping Odysseus heals. Over & Over Polites sings for his friend to let go of his guilt & try to build a life worth living (not just one have to survive in)

And THAT imo is 1000x sadder than a call for pacifism. Because Polites' dying wish doesn't come true. Odysseus' mental/emotional health grows worse & worse. He pushes everyone away in the Ocean Saga, to the point that his crew of 10 years starts to doubt him! He already "can hardly sleep" in the Circe Saga. The Underworld Saga almost destroys him and it only gets worse from there!

In the Underworld Odysseus is confronted with Polites' love for him. His desire for him to get better. His hope for Odysseus to find peace/happiness.

Polites loved him soooo much, his Final Thoughts were concern for his friend. (Then Ody gets to hear from his mom, who loved him so much she died waiting for his return)

No wonder it breaks him.

[Anyways, if you wanna see my (much shorter) post over how the Wisdom Saga basically argues for/confirms Polites' philosophy Was RIGHT, you can find it here]

[zapreportsblog]

Can you do Gojo x male reader x Geto

❝lost and found❞

✭ pairing : gojo satoru x male reader x geto suguru

✭ fandom : jujitsu kasian 

✭ summary : Everyone knows when you go food shopping with your mom you aren’t supposed to let go of her hand, because there is always the case of you ending up lost, will this isn’t the case for this scenario. Instead of it being the mom trying to find her lost kids it is Gojo and (M/n) trying to find Geto who they can’t seem to find in the supermarket.

✭ jujitsu kasian masterlist

It was a rare day when Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, and their classmate (M/n) found themselves with a day off from their arduous duties as sorcerers. The higher-ups had decided that they deserved a break, and the trio was left to decide how to spend it.

Gojo, with his characteristic swagger, looked at his companions and asked, "So, how are we going to spend this precious day off?"

Suguru, the more reserved of the group, pondered for a moment before replying, "I could really go for some pasta."

(M/n), the ever-resourceful thinker, perked up and suggested, "Why don't we go to the supermarket? We can buy ingredients and make our pasta right at home. It'll be fun!"

The idea seemed to strike a chord with all of them. It was a simple plan, but it promised a day filled with camaraderie, delicious food, and perhaps some unexpected adventures. With their day off ahead of them, the trio set out to the supermarket, ready to enjoy a break from their demanding lives as sorcerers.

As they entered the supermarket, Satoru and (M/n) shared a sly, knowing look behind Suguru's back. Their eyes sparkled with mischief, a silent agreement passing between them. This grocery run had the potential for some unexpected fun.

While Suguru dutifully examined his shopping list ready to get everything he needed for his pasta, Satoru and (M/n) discreetly slipped away, their steps light and their laughter barely contained. They navigated the supermarket aisles with the ease of seasoned explorers, their senses attuned to the promise of adventure.

As they ventured deeper into the store, Satoru whispered to (M/n), "You ready to shake things up a bit?"

(M/n) grinned, mischief dancing in their eyes. "Absolutely, Satoru. Let's give Suguru a surprise he won't forget."

As Satoru and (M/n) roamed the supermarket aisles, their mission to gather an assortment of junk food and snacks took an unexpectedly playful turn. With their cart already brimming with treats, Satoru couldn't resist the temptation any longer.

Satoru grinned mischievously at (M/n) and, with the agility of a child, jumped into the shopping cart, sitting cross-legged. He spread his arms wide, as if he were an amusement park ride operator showcasing the attractions. "Alright, (M/n), time for a snack-fueled adventure!"

(M/n) laughed, fully embracing the newfound excitement. They grabbed the handles of the cart, their imagination taking over. "Hang on, Satoru, this is going to be one wild ride!"

With a burst of enthusiasm, (M/n) started pushing the cart, maneuvering it like they were in a Mario Kart race. Satoru played along, tilting his body and pointing to different snacks on the shelves as if they were power-ups.

"Banana chips to the left!" Satoru exclaimed, leaning dramatically.

(M/n) steered the cart towards the banana chips, grabbing a bag and tossing it into the cart. "Got it! And now, it's the gummy bear shortcut!"

Satoru laughed heartily, and they sped towards the gummy bear section, adding colorful packages to their growing collection. As they approached the cookie aisle, Satoru pretended to rev an imaginary engine and shouted, "Boost mode! Let's hit those cookies!"

(M/n) picked up speed, zooming towards the cookies and tossing them into the cart. It felt like they were in their own little racing game, with snacks as their prize. Shoppers nearby couldn't help but smile at the duo's infectious energy.

Satoru, still seated in the cart, looked around at the variety of snacks they had accumulated. "I think we've got everything we need for our secret stash. Now, let's find a finish line—preferably the checkout counter!"

(M/n) grinned, feeling like they were on the verge of winning the grand prix. They navigated the cart towards the checkout counter, Satoru waving at imaginary fans along the way.

As they reached the checkout, Satoru hopped out of the cart, chuckling. "That was epic, (M/n). We should do this more often."

(M/n) nodded, their heart still racing with excitement. "Definitely, Satoru. Who knew grocery shopping could be this much fun?"

And so, with their cart filled to the brim with snacks and memories of their impromptu Mario Kart adventure, Satoru and (M/n) continued with their shopping trip, their mischievous spirits undiminished by the passage of time.

Finally done with their work the two pat themselves on the back as a job well done, Satoru and (M/n) reached the checkout counter with their cart full of snacks and their playful antics, they suddenly realized something was amiss. Suguru was nowhere to be seen.

"Wonder where Suguru wandered off to?" Satoru said, scratching his head with a puzzled expression.

(M/n) glanced around the store, their brow furrowing. "I haven’t see him since we started the Mario Kart adventure."

With growing concern, they decided to retrace their steps, calling out for Suguru as they navigated the aisles. "Suguru! Hey, Suguru! Where are you?"

But there was no response, no sign of Suguru anywhere. They retraced their steps all the way back to the checkout counter, and the cashier noticed their distressed expressions.

"Is there a problem?" the cashier asked, scanning their snacks.

Satoru exchanged a worried glance with (M/n). "We can't find our friend, Suguru. He was with us, but now he's gone."

The cashier furrowed their brow, concern growing as well. "Let me help you. I'll make an announcement."

The cashier reached for the store's intercom and spoke into it. "Attention shoppers, we have a lost customer. Geto Suguru, you have two lost children waiting for you at cash register 6. I repeat, Geto Suguru, please come to cash register 6."

Satoru and (M/n) exchanged glances again, this time with a mix of amusement and embarrassment. The announcement had certainly attracted the attention of fellow shoppers, who were now casting curious glances in their direction.

Satoru chuckled. "Well, this is one way to get Suguru's attention."

(M/n) nodded, a sheepish grin forming on their face. "I hope he hears it and comes back soon."

As they waited for Suguru to respond to the announcement, Satoru couldn't help but glance around at the snacks in their cart. "At least we have plenty of snacks to keep us entertained while we wait."

And so, with snacks in hand and an announcement echoing through the supermarket, Satoru and (M/n) waited for their lost companion to find his way back to cash register 6, where they hoped to reunite and continue their eventful shopping trip.

As Suguru approached cash register 6 in response to the announcement, he couldn't help but wear a weary expression, knowing that his friends, Satoru and (M/n), were likely the cause of this disruption. He found them there, both pouting with their arms crossed over their chests as they huffed in his direction.

Satoru pointed an accusatory finger at Suguru. "You abandoned us, Suguru!"

(M/n), chiming in from the background, added, "Yeah, what he said!"

Suguru couldn't hide the irritation on his face as he scrutinized their guilt-ridden expressions. "What kind of trouble did you two get into this time?"

Satoru, sitting comfortably in the shopping cart, leaned forward and dramatically placed a hand on his heart. "We ventured into the cleaning aisle, Suguru, the place where time stands still. We thought we'd lost you forever."

(M/n) couldn't resist joining in on the teasing. "Yeah, Suguru, we even found some ancient cleaning potions with your name on them."

Suguru let out an exasperated sigh. "You're both impossible." He then glanced at their cart, noticing the abundance of snacks. "At least you managed to get what we needed."

Satoru couldn't resist one last jab. "Oh, we got everything, Suguru, including some prune juice for you."

(M/n) laughed, playfully adding, "Don't forget the fiber-rich cereal!"

Suguru's annoyance reached its peak, and he muttered under his breath, "I'm surrounded by children."

As they approached the cashier to pay for their groceries, Satoru and (M/n) couldn't resist having the last word. They began teasing Suguru once more, chanting in sing-song voices, "Suguru's an old man, Suguru's an old man."

Suguru rolled his eyes, but he couldn't deny the warmth that spread through him at the sight of his mischievous friends. They might drive him crazy at times, but he wouldn't have it any other way. Together, they paid for their groceries and left the supermarket, their playful banter echoing in the air, a testament to their enduring friendship.

[daisymakesstuff]

Prologue

| Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |

Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles

Relationships: Morgan x Female Detective (Neveah Desanto)

Rating: Chapter is T (for violence, surprisingly); Series is M but might get bumped up to E.

Chapter Word Count: 1,600

Description: A devastating tragedy leaves detective Neveah Desanto as the best caretaker for an orphaned infant, putting Unit Bravo in an interesting situation and a strain on her and Morgan's relationship.

Read on AO3

--------------------------

Morgan sparks up her cigarette, glad to find her lighter still works after so long without use. The gravel of the warehouse roof shifts underneath her as she looks over the edge. There’s a moving truck parked out front and Agency employees are bringing furniture into the warehouse with their usual efficiency.

She recognizes the crib when she sees it, and a rocking chair, but she has no idea what most of it is. Do babies really need this much stuff?  Probably not. Nat was helping.  

 In hindsight, she should’ve known something like this would be coming one day. Maybe not a baby specifically, but the first known magical beast from the Echo World? A stray werewolf? Those are absolutely the kind of things her girlfriend would bring home. Neveah is a bleeding heart, and she’s always taking care of everyone.  There was a mission a few years back that should’ve been a dead giveaway…if Morgan had looked past her own interests when it happened. That’s never really been her strong suit, though.  

Deep in the Forest Outside of Wayhaven, Several Years Ago

With Ava and Farah having already downed the Trappers patrolling this area, Neveah and Morgan are hopeful they’ll be able to locate the supernatural they kidnapped. Nat, who stayed behind to look over the area maps, determined this was the most likely location given the routes the patrols followed. 

A sudden, shrill sound grates on Morgan’s ears. Grimacing, Morgan activates her radio to communicate with the team. “The target is northeast a few hundred feet…sounds like it might be a cave of some sort. It’s too loud to get a read on how many Trappers there are, though.”  

“Understood. I’m reviewing the area maps now. I’ll let you know when I’ve found a good entry point,” Nat’s voice comes over the radio. “Farah and I will circle back to act as additional support. Stand by until we arrive,” Ava orders. 

Neveah stops, frowning when she cannot sense whatever Morgan has.  “Wait, how do you know that?” She asks. 

“Because the baby crying is making my ears bleed,” Morgan gripes. The youngest Neveah had ever seen the Trappers take were usually 12 or 13, and she had made the mistake of assuming that is what they would find here. 

“A baby ?” Neveah’s whole demeanor shifts, a sudden determination taking over her face. She takes off, moving with impressive speed for a human, especially when she is in a dress and navigating a heavily-forested area. 

“Neveah!” Morgan barks, but it’s too late. There is no talking her down when she’s like this. Morgan lets out a long-suffering groan and follows close behind her. 

“I know the cave you’re talking about!” Neveah calls back. 

“That’s not what I’m worried about, sweetheart,” Morgan drawls. She runs a hand through her dark waves, as though that might soothe the twinge in her chest that happens every time Neveah throws herself head-first into danger. “We’re approaching the location now,” Morgan mutters reluctantly into the radio. 

“I told you to stand by, Neveah,” Ava scolds over the radio. She doesn’t need to be told to know whose plan this is. “There are supernaturals who rely on voice mimicry to lure their prey. This could be a trap.”

“You sent me because I’d probably be immune.” Neveah reminds her,  breathing heavily as she continues to make her way through the trees. 

“The ability could be physical—” 

“And what if it's not? What if they’re actually in there?” Neveah cuts Ava off. There is no snark to her question, just the deep genuine worry that can play just about anyone or anything’s heartstrings like a fiddle. 

Ava never answers, and Neveah falls quiet as she approaches the entrance to the cave. Neveah can finally hear the baby’s cries, their screaming echoes through the cave, faintly filtering out into the surrounding wilderness. 

“Will you shut it up already!?” snaps a Trapper from inside. 

“What does it look like I’m trying to do!?” A more feminine voice shouts back. They are both barely audible over the baby screaming. Morgan doesn’t think a creature with such small lungs should be able to make such a loud sustained noise.

 It does provide a good distraction though, allowing Neveah and Morgan to peer in and get an idea of the situation. The cave looks to go much deeper and become a much tighter squeeze, but the cavern the Trappers are in is open and fairly flat. 

There are four of them in total. One is off to the left digging through his backpack. Two are to the right, and one paces roughly in the center of the cavern bouncing the baby with an irritated scowl on her face. The kid is probably some sort of fae from the magic surrounding it. The aura isn’t particularly strong, but it’s way more than Morgan would expect from a kid so small.

Neveah nods toward the trapper to the left. She then looks at Morgan and tilts her head toward the two on the right. Morgan nods back to show she understands the assignment, and Neveah charges into the cave. At first, the fight is going well. There is a scream from one of the Trappers as Neveah no doubt gets the upper hand on him. Someone’s Volt clatters to the ground behind her, but there’s no scream or thump of a body hitting the ground. 

Morgan is almost caught by the prongs on the Trapper’s Volt, but manages to dodge just in time, using the opportunity to counterattack. The woman goes down with a groan. Usually, the hardest part of combat with Trappers is not being allowed to kill them, but she’s distracted right now. 

“Okay! Okay,” Neveah pleads, her voice tense with urgency and panic. Morgan stabs the Volt into her final trapper’s side absent-mindedly, all of her attention drawn to the scene behind her. “I’ll come with you. Just…please don’t hurt the baby.” 

The final Trapper has the baby in one arm and is holding their modified Volt to Neveah’s back with the other. Neveah raises her hands immediately in surrender, her Volt clattering to the ground. It rolls a few feet away from her…and closer to Morgan. Morgan growls at the Trapper, drawing her attention. 

“Stop right there, vampire! Come any closer and I’ll kill it!” Morgan hesitates, and it's not quite as fake as she wants it to be. This may be a ploy, but she knows Neveah really would sacrifice herself for someone else in a heartbeat, which means Morgan has to make sure it doesn’t actually come to that. 

Neveah chooses that moment to act, biting down as hard as she can on the arm the Trapper is using to hold the baby. It works as intended, the pain startling her into loosening her grip so Neveah can take the baby away from her. Holding the infant tightly to her chest, Neveah throws herself backward to get away from the blue sparking end of the Volt the Trapper tries to lash out at her with, making sure to land on her back so she takes the brunt of the impact and all of the scrapes. 

Not exactly graceful, but it gives Morgan the space she needs to pick up Neveah’s prod and jam it into the Trapper’s ribs. Morgan finds herself turning around before her enemy even hits the floor again, needing to make sure the detective is alright.

For just a moment, Morgan gets to drink in the sight of Neveah with her mouth coated in blood and a sharp feral look in her eyes. That image is going to keep Morgan warm for the next few days. 

It fades quickly back into her usual soft, worried expression as she has the chance to regain her bearings from the fall. Neveah shifts her grip to support the infant with one arm so she can use the other to push herself up off the ground. She’s bleeding from a variety of cuts and scrapes, dress and cardigan ruined from the fall. Despite that, all of her attention is directed to the baby, who is entirely unharmed but still crying. 

“Shh,” Neveah speaks softly to the infant, bouncing gently and patting its back to try and soothe it. “It’s alright now. We’re going to get you home to your parents.”

Morgan has to shut her eyes and hold her breath for a moment. The adrenaline fading, the kid’s screaming, the scent of Neveah’s blood, and the intense, confusing feelings the situation has inspired are all way too much in combination. She forces herself to concentrate on the sound of Neveah’s gentle cooing, ignoring everything else. The pain fades away almost instantly. 

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” Morgan crosses to Neveah in a couple of quick strides, her hand gently grabbing Neveah’s jaw to draw her attention away. Warm brown eyes lock onto her almost immediately, and Morgan uses the opportunity to inspect her closely, looking for any distress Neveah might try to hide from her. 

“I’m okay,” Neveah smiles reassuringly, “just scrapes and bruises.” Morgan is pleased to find it’s genuine and lets her go with a nod. 

The baby’s screaming gradually peters out to hiccuping gasps, resting its head on Neveah’s shoulder and grabbing little fistfuls of her cardigan to soothe itself. The detective continues to rub the baby’s back with gentle motions, looking down at it with open care and affection. 

As they trudge back toward the rendezvous point, Morgan is just grateful that she’s not the one having to handle the baby. 

[kyliafanfiction]

so, I read the full fanlore page for that whole ‘fandom ghost’ thing about m/m and the way there’s this one character that keeps being written into every character over and over, across pairings, inserted into a usually minor or underdeveloped character, etc

and there was a section on a female ghost that also tends to show up in a lot of these m/m fics, a smart, sassy, beautiful female character who is also reduced to being an enabler for the m/m ship, etc. 

And while I don’t really read m/m, that does track with my limited exposure.

BUT, I think there is also a fandom ghost in f/f fic too. I honestly don’t read the wider f/f widely enough to articulate it as much, just what’s in my fandoms and I don’t really have an expansive set of them or add new ones that easily.

BUT in my experience, and from what I see in summaries and tags on ao3 and posts here on tumblr, there is a common character archtype wedged into characters regardless of if they fit, across a lot of femmeslash stories.

I can’t give a solid point by point as I write this at 5 in the morning, coming off stewing over the thoughts in my sleep, or so it feels, but like:

the m/m fandom ghost is a type a personality, controlled and tsundere and hypercompetent and gets wrecked by the messy guy that comes in and destroys their carefully crafted life, etc.

The f/f fandom ghost that I’ve seen is actually the opposite. That is, when given two characters that seem like a viable ship, one of the characters is whacked with a hammer until she fits a mold: an often clumsy or perhaps more accurately careless, butch (and made more so than her canon presentation), very muscular (again, more so than her canon presentation), often quite a ladies woman, very toppy, definitely plays opposite a more repressed or controlled character (but usually one who is bettered rooted in canon as being that), and destroys that character’s neat little world. They are usually, despite their butchness, a lot sillier or softer outside the bedroom, again, and they think sunshine comes out of the other character’s ass even before they get together and -

I’m starting to run into some limitations on the specific words because I just don’t read this enough to stop and articulate it (because I often close out of F/F fics that get too into wedging the characters into archetypes like this rather than the characters themselves (because it does happen a lot) but I very much do have a ‘I know it when I see it’ thing happening here.

I’ve seen it crop up in Buffy/Faith, Kara/Lena, Regina/Emma and in others I have read less extensively (there are F/F ships I’ve never seen it in, like Tara/Willow) that I’m not thinking of specifically

And like, there is a bit of a difference between the m/m fandom ghost, which is really the same character being dressed in a new skin over and over, and that skin usually being a minor or secondary character, etc, and this f/f one, which is more likely (but not always) to be fit into a fairly prominent character, and is less like one character wearing different skin and more many square characters being badly bashed into one round hole, but

I feel like I’m on to something here. For some femmeslash writers, there really are a lot of fics that feel like they’re not writing the two characters. They’re writing the one character and an archetype that may not actually fit the other character all that well, but damn the Torpedos and full speed ahead.

[ultimatelytired]

Ocean

word count: 4880

Fandom: MCYT Pairing: SBI Family x Brother!Orca!Reader Pronouns: He/Him Relationship: Familial Occupation: Pirate Captain Ability: Orca Hybrid

The character is that of a orca hybrid, allowing them to have traits of a orca. They have abnormal strength and speed with keen senses of hearing and sight, making their eyes and ears almost sensitive to anything. They are also granted with an abnormal height and the gift to shapeshift from a human/normal form to a more monstrous form. Both in and out of their full form, they are granted excellent swimming abilities.

Keys:

[M/N]: Male Name [S/C]: Skin Color [H/C]: Hair Color [E/C]: Eye Color  [U/N]: Username

Warnings: vulgar language, violence.

got this idea after reading this story by @sunflowerdaisybee​ of their SBI x sibling!reader, go check out their story because I liked it very much.

might make a part two, might not.

that is all.

“Full bore into the abyss!”

“Are you mad?!”

The captain of the ship that was sailing through a terrible storm let out a wild laugh as thunder boomed and lightning crashed from behind him, his crewmembers were hurrying themselves across the deck to prevent the ship from possibly capsizing from the terrible weather all because their captain was just too damn stubborn to go around the storm and instead went through it. This group of individuals was not your average group of ruffians, this was a group of pirates that was overrun with ocean type hybrids! Not a single one was a human, and the captain of this pirate crew was an orca.

The Killer Whale: [M/N]! This individual was wanted throughout the entire ocean for his countless crimes against the laws of the sea. Piracy, smuggling, arson, murder, impersonating an officer, sailing under false colors, kidnapping, looting, brigandage, pilfering, depravity, depredation, general lawlessness, and those are the few that he can remember. He was the reckless kind that would not hesitate to take matters into his own hands to get the results that he wants or needed, but he was also smart enough to know not to do anything too foolish. His crew was always his number one priority before anything else, he thought of them as another family; one that he had not left behind to live the life he wanted on the ocean.

This man was crazy and he just loved the ocean, it always made him feel free, he wondered if this is how his father felt whenever he would fly in the sky away from the ground. That’s why he loved the thrill of sailing through storms, that thrill of the waves crashing against his beloved ship, it always got his blood pumping whenever the rain poured down on him and that slightly fear of their ship not making it through made it all the more exciting. This man was an orca hybrid, a more than enough reason as to why people dubbed him the Killer Whale, but that’s beside the point. [M/N] was constantly in his full orca form. In his human form, he is about 7″2ft; his half human/half orca is about 8″0ft; his full form is 8″8ft, so this man is already gigantic from the beginning. 

“Hah!” turning towards the crewmate that shouted at him, he gave them a toothy grin as his hold on the wheel tightened so he wouldn’t lose the ship to the ocean waves “You afraid to get wet?” a few other crewmates groan, when he spoke like that, there was no talking sense into their captain. He laughed once more at the state of his crew as soon as they were out of the storm, they were all exhausted from their battle against mother nature and had practically passed out on the deck as soon as they hit clear waters and skies.

“Captain... can we please rest now?” he huffed, running a hand over the smooth skin of his head and nodded.

“Well, alright. We’ve done enough sailing, why don’t you drop the anchor so we can rest up tonight?” he rolled his eyes at the sound of loud cheering “You bunch of sea guppies, we’re all creatures of the sea! What’s there to be afraid of is we do capsize?”

“We lose all the treasure we accumulated over our countless adventures.” this caused [M/N] to pause, looking up in thought before nodding his head.

“Heh, now that’s a good reason, matey.” he laced his fingers together, cracking them over his head as he turned on his heels and started making his way to his quarters, passing by his vice-captain to give him some orders “You’re in charge while I go rest up myself, call me if anything happens.”

“Yes captain.” he clicked his tongue with winking before finally leaving, he let out a sigh while stretching his arms then collapsed onto his chair in front of his desk. He then kicks his feet onto the said desk while popping the cork of a bottle of wine and taking a couple swigs from the alcoholic beverage, he hums to himself as the liquid ran down his throat while some slipped between his lips and ran down his jaw. Licking his lips, he sniffles to himself as he looked around his personal room and smirked to himself, never in a million years would he have thought he would make a name as infamous as his own. 

“I really should pay the old man a visit.” he leans back once more, an arm hanging back as he takes another swig of the wine before pausing while letting out a hum at the sound of a bird.

*CAW*

*CAW*

“Hmm?” pulling his head up, he raised a brow at the sight of a crow landing on his foot “Now what’s a bird-like yourself doing out in the middle of the ocean with nowhere to land for miles?” he lifts his leg slightly and there he saw a letter of sorts strapped to its leg, his face lit up as he moved his leg so that it was closer to towards him so that the crow could perch itself on his hand. He set the bottle of wine down to caress the side of its head, humming softly when it leaned into the affectionate gesture. He soon removed the letter off of its leg and then proceeded to move it so that it was perched on his shoulder, with that, he opened the letter and read through the contents.

"Dear [M/N],

It’s been a long time, hasn't it? I won't take up too much of your time since you're probably very busy, being the captain of an infamous pirate crew, so I'll make this quick.

You left the house at a rather young age so you probably haven't met your brothers. That's right, you have three younger siblings! Adoptive, I know, though one of them actually is my biological son while the other two I picked up just like you.

I thought that if you're near the SMP, you could swing by and I could introduce you to them. I mentioned that they had an elder brother that was a pirate and they were more than excited to meet you. I hope you could meet them as well, but I won't pressure you to stop your adventures to meet them.

I'll see you when I see you.

Yours truly, Philza."

“Hmph, it’s almost as if he’s reading my mind.” he muttered to himself but ultimately felt excited after reading the letter, brothers? Philza picked up more kids and dubbed them his sons, now that was exciting to hear after a few months of no letters. He opens a drawer and drops the letter into the half-full drawer of letters from his father, he closes it then pulls out a blank paper, a quill and some ink to write his response. He reads it over before nodding his head and closing it, sealing it in an envelope then wax sealing it with a symbol of his pirate crew “Make sure this letter gets back to my dad, I’m counting on you.” he snickers softly when the crow salutes before flying off. 

‘Brothers, huh? I wonder what they’re like.’ he thinks back to his childhood with Philza and laughs to himself, he remembered how much of a handful he was for the already old man. He always loved being near the ocean, whether it be because he’s an oceanic hybrid or not, it was always so refreshing to be in the water than out of it. Philza wasn’t that big of a fan because of his wings so to compromise, he would pick him up and fly to a good enough height then drop him from a said height into the water for a big splash. Thinking back to his childhood brought a smile to his lips, he nods his head and stands to his feet and makes his way to the main deck where his crewmembers were casually talking while doing their assigned chores.

“Hear me, men!” he shouts, this caused them all to look over at him, raising a brow when they saw the bright smile on his face “Tomorrow, we set sail for the SMP! I have a certain someone waiting to see his son.” they all share glances at each other after the short announcement.

“We’re heading to land?”

“Then that means...”

“Party time!” he laughs at the conclusion, that was true. Whenever they did visit any island, that would always mean they head to the closest tavern to party for the rest of their stay there and relax until [M/N] decided they leave. He shook his head when they immediately raised the anchor while their navigator took to the wheel so they could head to the SMP ASAP, well, at least they weren’t wasting any time.

[with the sbi family]

“Dear old man,

It sure has been a long time, so imagine my surprise after you blessed me with the news of me having brothers. I’m very excited to meet the boys you have failed to mention in the previous letters, were you planning on surprising me or did you forget?

You must be getting really old if you did forget, and you wonder why I call you old man, old man. That’s beside the point, I’d be more than happy to drop everything just to see you and my new brothers. Don’t ever think that you’re giving me trouble just for a visit, I’ve been meaning to visit you anyways.

I don’t know exactly when I’ll arrive at the SMP, but knowing my crew, they’ll make it a top priority just to get to an island to relax after weeks of being on the ocean waters. We’ll be docked at the same place we always stay at whenever we come to visit.

See you soon.

Your favorite son, [M/N].”

“Pft, bold of him to assume he’s my favorite.” he muttered under his breath after reading the reply from his eldest son, his crow returned from [M/N] with a satisfied look on its face. Philza was excited to see the response and was thrilled when he read that [M/N] was quite literally dropping everything just to meet the brothers he had mentioned in the letter. Speaking of which, he hadn’t meant to mention [M/N] around his three sons, it was an accidental slip of the tongue and the three boys demanded to meet [M/N].

“Was that from the pirate?” Technoblade, the now second eldest who was a piglin hybrid, asked him as he rested his arms on the armrest while his head laid on top of his arms “Did he say he was coming?” Philza chuckled softly as he nodded his head, raising his hand to rest on top of his head.

“It was, and his name is [M/N].”

[M/N]: his eldest son that he accidentally picked up when he was sailing through a storm because god forbid he fly through it. The young orca was a stowaway in a crate of food that was likely abandoned or lost by his own family, so with nowhere to call home, he took the young calf as his own and raised him to the man he is today.

Wilbur: the second and biological son to Philza, a human child that bared more of a resemblance to his mother, the love of Philza’s life Kristin (Samsung Fridge) who’s love for music and theatre. Though he was quiet on certain occasions, the older man adored his son for bringing back the boisterous atmosphere after his eldest son left the home.

Technoblade: the third son, he found this young piglin hybrid alone in the nether with nothing more than the clothes on his back. He was probably the same age as Wilbur, he also thought Wilbur could use a brother since his eldest was gone and Wilbur looked lonely. Making sure that Technoblade wasn’t missing or anything, he brought the young boy home and raised him alongside his other son.

Tommy: his fourth and youngest son was randomly dropped off in front of his home with no letter or any sign left of the boy’s parents, but it was startling how similar this young child shared an appearance like himself. He probably wouldn’t have brought Tommy if it weren’t for the fact that both Wilbur and Technoblade were excited to get a younger sibling, so he thought, why the hell not and closed the door behind him with Tommy in his arms. 

“When is he going to get here, dad?” Wilbur asked, popping his head beside Technoblade.

“He isn’t coming directly to the house, so we’re going to him at the dock.” he let out an oof when Tommy threw himself onto Philza’s lap, a bright look on his face as he stared up at his father.

“So we’re going to see his ship? A real pirate ship?”

“That’s right, if you’re good enough, he might just let you aboard.” he chuckled when all three of them let out cheers of excitement, but himself was just as excited as his sons to see [M/N] again. How long has it been exactly since he last saw [M/N]? Several years, perhaps? He was seven when he first picked him up and he raised him to about seventeen years old before he left, Wilbur was born three years later and he’s currently eight... eleven years? That sounds about right.

“How old is he now, dad?” Wilbur asked.

“Hmm, if I do the math right, he should be about... twenty-eight?” Tommy makes a face.

“Old.” Technoblade and Wilbur snort, Philza just chuckled with a shake of his head and decided to tell them all the stories of the infamous pirate Killer Whale and all his adventures across the sea. When he finally got the letter that [M/N] arrived at the SMP and decided that he and his crew were staying for a couple days up to a week, he informed his youngest three and watching them scurry around to get ready was one of the funniest things to see. 

“Is he as scary as you made him out to be?” Tommy asked.

“Well, I say it’s like a character he has to play. He’s known as a ruthless killer of the sea, but he’s actually quite a big softy. Hah, he would often play with other sea life whenever we would go out swimming and sometimes he would cry at the sight of turtles being harassed by zombies. He gets very embarrassed whenever I bring it up.”

“Will he like us?” Technoblade asks “He’s twenty years older than us, don’t you think he’ll find it odd to have brothers that’s two decades younger than him?” Philza just shook his head.

“Not really. Family is family in his eyes. He told me that his ragtag crew of pirates are the family he couldn’t bring with him when he started his adventure. They range from a variety of different ages, different species, you name it! Whether you’re children or not, he’ll still consider you his brothers.” he was relieved when that was enough to reassure Technoblade, to which the young boy nodded his head as he reached forward to take Philza’s hand, Wilbur noticed this and took his other hand whilst Tommy sat a top the shoulders of their father. 

“Hurry up dad, I really want to meet him!” Tommy shouted, he laughs to himself when he was then being dragged to the docks by Wilbur and Technoblade, who were just as enthusiastic as their youngest brother. They now stood in front of tavern that was bustling with noises that ranged from shouting, screaming and singing...? Can that noise really be considered singing? Philza takes a deep breath and goes to enter but quickly stepped to the side, pulling his sons with him, when a barrel flew through the doors and crashed into the wall behind them. 

...

...

“I’m having second thoughts.” Technoblade says after hearing loud cheering come from inside the tavern after the barrel came flying through the doors.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I promise, he’ll tone it down when he sees you guys.” he put Tommy down and made sure he was close to his brothers, he takes a deep breath as he approached the doors before finally pushing them open and entering the tavern. Technoblade, Wilbur and Tommy held onto the end of Philza’s haori and they were all blown away that the tavern was filled to the brim of oceanic hybrids that were partying like there was no tomorrow. They paid the family no mind as they continued to sing sea shanties while cheering on the two big hybrids that were drinking ale from barrels.

“Chug, chug, chug, chug!” the crew chanted wildly, one of the two collapsed to the ground, the barrel spilling ale everywhere for they weren’t able to finish it. The latter continued to drink and when he finished he let out a loud breath then slammed the now empty barrel to the ground before letting out a loud cheer, throwing his fist in the air with a wide grin.

“You’re a few years too early to challenge I to a drink off, mate.”

“That’s the captain for you!”

“Him and that bottomless stomach of his!” [M/N] gave a toothy grin, snickering to himself when his vice captain came up to him and wrapped their arm around his shoulder, he goes to continue to drink but was stopped at the call of his name.

“[M/N]!” he turned his head and his eyes widened slightly at the sight of the blonde man, Philza flinched slightly when all eyes were on him and was having second thoughts, he soon let out a grunt when [M/N] came rushing over to him with his arms wide open.

“Dad!” he exclaimed before kneeling down to wrap his arms around Philza and bringing him into a hug, his dorsal fin and fluke wagging as he embraced his father after so long “It’s so nice to finally see you after all these years!” he adds as he pulls away but still had a hold on him, snickering softly when Philza’s feet couldn’t touch the ground.

“It’s good to see you too, [M/N]. I missed you.” [M/N]’s fluke tail continued to wag, a few of [M/N]’s crewmates whistle at the sight.

“Wow, so that’s the man that raised captain [M/N]?”

“He really is a bird hybrid?”

“Is he a crow?”

“I’ve never seen a bird hybrid up close.” the blonde man started patting [M/N] on the shoulder to gain his attention and when he got it, he gave him a nervous smile.

“There’s still a few people I need you to meet.” at that, his face lit up once more and he moved Philza to the side and there he saw the three children that had to be his brothers. The tallest of the three had short pink hair that looked like it was growing with skin that was a lighter shade of pink than his hair, a paper crown sat a top his head as he wore a simple white button up, trousers and boots. The second was a boy with curly brown hair and matching brown eyes, he wore a bright yellow sweater with blue jeans and shoes. The smallest of the three had bright blonde hair that matched his-- their father along with the blue eyes, he wore a simple white shirt with red sleeves, shorts and sho-- wait a damn minute, where are his shoes? “[M/N], these are the brothers I mentioned in the letter. Meet Wilbur, Technoblade and Tommy. Boys, meet [M/N].” said man hurriedly put Philza down and gave the three young children and friendly smile.

“Hello, it’s great to finally meet you three. I hope we can get along.” [M/N] felt a bead of sweat roll down his cheek when the three only stared up at him in silence, then Tommy burst into tears “Wha-- what?” he paled, ignoring the way his crew were laughing as he tried to comfort the crying boy.

“Wow, you made them cry.”

“Some brother you are.”

“So scary.” his crew booked a private room so that Philza can usher the boys in to calm them down, to which the older two stood in the hallway, though, Philza was looking down at [M/N] as he was hunched over in a corner and drawing circles into the ground.

“Am I really that scary?” this question got him a smack across the head.

“You’re literally a killer whale, [M/N]. You’re huge with an intimidating aura surrounding you.” this caused him to continue sulking “If you don’t want to scare them, especially Tommy, why don’t you look like a human?” this caused [M/N] to flinch at the suggestion.

“Human?” he stood up and looked into his reflection through the mirror and pulled a face, placing a hand on his cheek “I don’t remember the last time I adorned the appearance of a human, my whole pirating life revolved around me being an orca.” Philza shrugged as he looked into the mirror with him.

“Well, it’s either that or you live with them fearing you.”

“Now that’s just mean.” he shrugs.

“But you and I both know that it’s true.” [M/N] exhaled through his noses and looked at his reflection once more, dangit. Wilbur and Technoblade were whispering sweet nothings into Tommy’s ear to soothe him, to which he had calmed down from his crying.

“I didn’t expect him to be that big.”

“I didn’t expect Tommy to cry.” Wilbur then looked down at him “Didn’t you say that you were a big man, Tommy?” the five year old only sniffled.

“I am a b-big man!” they all flinch, to which Tommy let out a yelp, when there was a knock at the door. They relaxed when they saw that it was only their father, however, he was briefly talking to someone from behind the door before shuffling inside.

“Come on, don’t be getting shy now.”

“I feel weird.” it was [M/N]’s voice, but it sounded different compared to earlier. Philza waved his hand and so [M/N]’s let out a sigh and finally entered the room, causing the three children to stare in slightly shock at his different appearance. Instead of the body of an orca with legs, [M/N] now looked completely human with pale skin and black markings where an orca’s skin was black. He still had an abnormal height but at least it wasn’t overwhelming like before, he had short messy [H/C] hair with deep [E/C] eyes. The clothes he wore looked a little looser and baggy compared to when he was an orca, I guess that was because his muscles were more apparent when he was an animal. As a human, he also had many tattoos of islands that he must have visited along with a few flowers, feathers and a compass, his ears were pierced as well and he had a black crow feather hanging along the side of his face from his hair “There, you happy?” he said as he looked at his father, placing his hands on his hips while leaning his weight onto his foot.

“Very, you look just as handsome as the day you left.” this comment raise heat to rush to his pale skin, Philza then clapped his hands as he looked at the other three children “Boys, this is [M/N]’s human form, I hope it’s less scary.”

“You’re making me look bad.” [M/N] nervously rubbed the back of his neck as his eyes averted from the three small children, he takes a deep breath before approaching them and kneeling down, making sure he didn’t get too close so they wouldn’t feel uncomfortable “I’m sorry if I’ve made you three nervous, I didn’t mean to. I haven’t exactly interacted with young children in a long time, but I really want to make this work because this is the first time I’ve had brothers this young before. I’ll stay like this to make sure you guys are comfortable around me, how does that sound?” he believed that Wilbur and Technoblade could handle it, but he was more worried about Tommy, the poor boy cried on sight. He waited nervously and eagerly for his response, swallow thickly as the blonde boy peered over the shoulders of his older brothers shielding him from the stranger.

“... did those hurt?” was the first thing Tommy said, [M/N] didn’t understand the question until he noticed where Tommy was looking, he glanced down while raising his hand and saw that he was staring at the few scars along his chest that were peeking from under his shirt.

“Huh? These? Psh, with the adrenaline pumping, it barely hurt. What hurt was getting the damned thing all stitched up.” he then raised his arm “Wanna see the scar I got after getting harpooned?” Philza stood in the background, a happy smile gracing his lips that [M/N] managed to get the boys to settle down and marvel at works of art all over his body along with the scars left behind the countless battles he’s had over the years. It made him happy that, despite the initial introduction, Tommy now sat snug in his lap while Wilbur and Technoblade sat beside him as he pointed at each of his tattoos and the meanings behind them.

‘I’m glad they’re getting along, I guess I was worried for nothing.’ 

Headcanon:

[m/n] spoke with his brother’s for hours, recalling another one of his tales, that he hadn’t realized that the noise from inside the bar had died down whilst his own father was leaning against his back as he fell asleep.

he probably would have moved them to the couch if it weren’t for the fact that even the three young boys had fallen asleep on him.

he was in a predicament.

fuck it-- he might as well just sleep on the floor with them.

the morning was great because he was cuddled up with his brothers along with his father.

it wasn’t so great for his crew because they were all groaning in pain from the hangovers from the excessive drinking.

he threw water of them to wake them up and told them to stop bitching. 

when the three boys were awake, he brought them aboard his ship and showed them around.

them and his crew were more than excited to show the children around, however, they too had to look like humans as to not overwhelm and startle children.

they were rewarded with booze.

when [m/n] had to set sail again, tommy burst into tears once more because he wanted [m/n] to stay.

why couldn’t he stay?

did he not like them?

quite the opposite really.

he was a wanted man, and the longer he stayed in a certain area, the faster the government authorities got to capturing his band of crazies.

wilbur and technoblade were just as upset because they wouldn’t get to see or hear all his epic tales and spend time with his crew.

[m/n], however, promised to visit more often and send letters to hear from them.

he even promised to send or bring them souvenirs from his adventures, giving them something to look forward too.

when asked why he couldn’t just stay longer, his answer was the fact that his story still hadn’t found its ending just yet and was still being told and written. 

the next time he did drop by he had a few new tattoos that signified his brotherhood to them and represented each brother.

a lute for wilbur, a cutlass sword for technoblade, and an infinity sign for tommy.

tommy thought the infinity sign looked dumb.

when told that it was his limitless brotherly love for him, he had second thoughts.

though he tried not to make it blatantly obvious, to which he failed at it, tommy was without a doubt his favorite brother.

he promised the three brothers, that if they were ever to call him in need of his aid, he would not hesitate to drop everything just to come and help them in dire need.

he was their elder brother, and he was going to make up for his absence for not being there for them when they were growing up.

[mylittlemystery]

Howdy mate, could you do Joker headcanons A-Y for the tickle headcanons thing? Sorry if your not into Dc stuff, is there a list of your fandoms somewhere so I can see what I can ask. Sorry ^^"

Hey, don't worry about it! If you're wondering what fandoms I'm in, just shoot me a message asking for the list. :) The Joker is virtually the only character I'll write for that's in the DC Comics universe because I am not familiar with anyone else. XD

A: Aftercare | What is their aftercare like after a heavy round of tickling?:)

I think that he'd stick his fingers in the 'lee's mouth and stretch their lips up into a comically stilted smile once they aren't doing it anymore. I know that's a bit gross, but I think it suits him since he's a bit gross. XD

B: Bondage | How do they react to bondage, do they enjoy it and if yes, what is their favorite pose?

Yeah, I think he'd definitely like to both be tied up and tie others up. His favorite positions are flat on his back with his arms above his head and sitting in a chair with the arms restrained upwards respectively.

C: Chase | What are their chances in a chase, both as a lee and ler?

As a 'lee, he loves a good chase. He'll usually skip away from his pursuer as he hums a little tune, taking care to not go as fast as he can so getting caught is a certainty. "Catch me if you can~!"

As a 'ler, he will not hold anything back when it comes to chasing his 'lee. Prepare to be sprinted after at full speed, usually with him chuckling like a maniac all the while.

D: Death Spot | What is their most ticklish spot?

He seems like a hips sort of guy to me. Wiggles like a worm whenever they're gently pinched. :3c

E: Expression | How do they express their wish to tickle/be tickled?

Whenever he wants to tickle someone, he loves curling his wiggling fingers into faux claws and asking anyone nearby if they just so happen to be ticklish. Run while you can, my friend...

I honestly see him as the type of dude to just ask somebody to tickle him whenever he's in that kind of mood. Bonus points if he stretches himself out along any surface available to him to really send the point home.

F: Fight | What is their behavior in a tickle fight like?

Oh, he's in it to win it. He'll immediately try to pin his opponents down to the best of his ability, but he usually ends up losing more often than not due to how frail he is. He tries his damndest, though.

G: Gentle | How do they react to gentle tickles?

He prefers ones that are a bit harsher, but these ones are alright as well! They make him snort a lot. :)

H: Habits | As a lee/ler or both, do they have specific habits when it comes to tickling?

As a 'lee, he's egging the 'ler on at every opportunity. He is the definition of cocky, and the fact that he only wants more of the sensation wants it starts definitely doesn't help.

As a 'ler, you can bet your ass that he's laughing along with his 'lee the entire time. Sometimes it gets to the point where he's deeper in hysterics than they are, which can be ever so slightly unsettling depending on who you ask. XD

I: Interrogation | How well would they handle a tickle interrogation?

VERY well. Boy is bing chilling the entire time. Just laughs his head off and falls in love with those supposedly torturous touches.

J: Joy | Their absolute favorite thing about tickling?

Quite literally everything. The fact that it makes people laugh, the fact that it can be used against some people, the fact that it gives him a huge power rush, and the list goes on and on...

K: Killer Move | As a ler, do they have special skills to use against their lees and drive them crazy with?

He has very nimble fingers that are excellent at delivering a mean barrage of tickles to even the hardest to reach places. No spot is safe from this man.

L: Laughter | What does their laughter sound like when they are tickled?

I personally think it'd sound like Mark Hamill's Joker laugh - high pitched, hooty, and utterly maniacal.

M: Mornings | Their tickle behavior during mornings?

He sometimes falls asleep at his desk from staying up the entire night beforehand, so the mornings are the best time to give him soft little tickles along the back of his neck (he has the best sleepy giggles).

N: Nights | Their tickle behavior during nights?

He DESPISES sleeping, so he is going to try and keep anyone who happens to live with him awake for as long as humanly possible. Yes, this includes mercilessly tickling them to keep them from drifting off. XD

O: Online | Text messaging and social media, do they have some kind of online tickly behavior to tease their lee or ler with?

Oh, hell yeah. He loves using the word "tickle" as much as he possibly can when contributing to his online presence (tickled pink, tickling the ivories, et cetera). He loves flustering any potential 'lees or 'lers alike with that dreaded word...

P: Partner In Crime | If they were to go after a lee and accept the aid of a tickle partner, who do they prefer to join hands with and why?

Harley! These are two tickle hungry maniacs, so it only makes sense that they'd team up together. :) It's extremely flustering to be tag teamed by this duo because they do not stop teasing for even a minute.

Q: Question | Their response to the question ‘are you ticklish’?

Totally just says yes. XD He's super excited as soon as the question practically leaves the other's tongue because he can hardly wait for the incoming onslaught of silently promised tickles.

R: Role | Lee or ler, what is generally their main role?

He's an even switch. Roll the dice with him because he doesn't care about the outcome either way!

S: Safeword | If they were to suggest the safeword for a tickle session, which word will it be?

I don't know why the phrase "royal flush" is coming to mind for this one, but I feel like it fits what with his whole card persona and everything.

T: Teasing | Their most favorite methods of teasing their lee/ler?

He's a HUGE lover of baby talk and gushing over his 'lee's reactions. He is going to replace all of his "Rs" with "Ws" and all that jazz, watching as the other's face lights up like a fucking fire hydrant.

Whenever he's being tickled, he's constantly telling the 'ler to tickle him harder and faster. Your hands are going to be cramping up by the time you've managed to drive him loopy...

U: Unusual | Do they have some unusual tickle spots? Where?

He has a very ticklish collarbone, and it's actually quite easy to tickle since it's so prominent on him.

V: Victim | As a ler, who is their favorite lee and what makes this person their ultimate victim?

Batman, obviously. XD He's proud to hold the title of the famed hero's "Ultimate Rival", so he can't help but want to indulge his other half in a bit of playful shenanigans every now and again (even if they don't get the biggest reactions).

W: Word | What is their reaction to the T-word? Can they say it out loud or do they get embarrassed?

This dude practically breathes the damn word. He is not the type to get easily flustered. XD

X: X-Over | In a crossover AU, which other fandom character would be a fitting tickle fight opponent for them and why?

PENNYWISE! Like, hello?! Two absolutely psychotic clowns (technically) who (in my opinion) adore tickling? It's a match made in heaven (hell)!

Y: YOU | Any personal self- or reader-insert tickle fantasy / headcanon to share with this character?

One of the earliest characters I can remember wanting to tickle/be tickled by.

[scuttling]

(You Want To) Make a Memory

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Latina Original Female Character Word Count: 19,858 Chapters: 5 of 5 Complete Tags: 18+, NSFW, Amnesia, Anxiety attacks, Sex dreams, Dom/sub, Daddy kink, Praise kink, Unprotected sex, Vaginal fingering, Dirty talk, Choking, Biting, Hickies, Oral sex, Making love, Angst and feels, Shower sex, Size kink Summary: Sophie gets amnesia while working a case and forgets everything from the last two years: her friends, her job at the BAU, and her boyfriend, Aaron. Note: This is a reformatted, previously published work. :)

Link to AO3 or read Chapter 1 below!

The thing Sophie finds most complicated about her work at the BAU is that it’s their job to predict the unpredictable. Yes, they are all highly educated, knowledgeable profilers, with decades of experience between them, and human behavior typically follows patterns that are easily discernible if you have the right training. But even armed with all the information, all the statistics, all the data, there’s one thing they can never really know for certain: what a desperate person will do in the heat of the moment.

The unsub they are looking for is a white male, aged 25-35, who lives alone, has a steady daylight job, drives a red pickup truck, and has a problem with older female authority figures. Sophie could go on and on about this particular type of unsub—she could tell you where he shops, how he spends his evenings, his favorite sport/team/player, probably even what he’ll eat for dinner tonight—but there’s no way she can know how he’ll react to the FBI at his door, or the consequences his actions will have.

The team is canvassing the neighborhood they believe the unsub resides in, and she and Spencer were assigned the four hundred block; they each take a separate side of the street, and work their way down house by house trying to find someone who fits the profile, or knows someone who does.

“Any luck?” Sophie asks Spencer when they meet back up at the end of the the block. He grimaces, uncertain.

“There was one guy, but…” She gestures toward the SUV and they walk toward it together.

“What happened? Profile didn’t fit?”

“He was the right demographic, the vehicle fit, but he wasn’t disorganized. In fact, his home looked like it belonged in a catalog: photos on the walls, decorative items, nothing out of place.” She frowns a little, because it’s clear this guy has raised some red flags for her partner, and she trusts his intuition when it comes to stuff like this.

“And he lives alone?” she asks, confirming. That’s a pretty big part of the profile, considering what he does to the victims. He nods.

“Yes, no indication of a girlfriend or wife living there.” Sophie blows out a breath, leans against the side of the SUV.

“Okay, let’s brainstorm. Maybe... he hires a housekeeper.” Spencer shrugs.

“He didn’t seem like the type, but I guess it’s possible.”

“Alright, well… Okay, so our profile is of a man who kills older women because he has an issue with an older woman who is an authority figure in his life. We thought maybe his boss, but what if it’s his mother?” she asks, face lighting up a little. This theory makes more sense, actually. “What if she comes over while he’s at work, cleans the place up, redecorates, just takes complete control of his life, even his private space, and he loses it?” He nods enthusiastically.

“That is extremely more likely. Now that I think of it, all the photos were of him and an older woman who could be his mother.” Sophie pulls out her phone, gestures over her shoulder with her thumb.

“Let’s head back there; Hotch and JJ are just around the corner, I’ll let them know we might need backup. 412?”

“Yeah—hey, that’s the truck. That’s the truck,” he says with more urgency, pointing down the street at a rapidly approaching red pickup truck that matches the description of the unsub’s. Shit.

“Okay, get in the car, call Hotch,” she instructs, and they both barely make it in before the truck rear-ends the SUV on the driver's side; Sophie’s head hits off the steering wheel hard, and the car rocks, and she looks over at Spencer, a little disoriented, to make sure he’s okay. He’s holding his wrist, like maybe he hurt it bracing himself.

When she gets her bearings, she starts the car, throws it into reverse, ready to apply a little force and potentially keep him from striking again, but he backs up, speeds up, and cuts the wheel to go around them, striking her door and driving past. It’s then that another SUV cuts him off, and Hotch and JJ jump out, guns drawn; the unsub raises his hands, surrenders, and it’s over as quickly as it began.

“Sophie?” She can hear her name, but her head is swimming. She touches the cut above her temple, pulls back a hand covered in blood, but she knows head injuries bleed heavily, so she’s not worried. She’s more worried that she can’t tell where that voice is coming from. It’s like she’s in a fun house, sounds echoing from all sides. “Sophie, can you hear me?” She hums in response.

Kind hands are on her face, turning it toward the sun, and she scrunches her eyes at the brightness. She knows the hands are trying to help, but her head already hurts, and the light isn’t doing her any favors.

“Gotta… get up,” she mumbles, and the hands hold her waist, help her out of the car. Her left foot hurts when she puts her weight down on it, and she almost folds, but the hands hold her up, and she thinks she smiles.

“Reid—is she okay?” That voice is a voice that makes her want to answer immediately, even if her brain hasn’t quite caught up. She stumbles over her words.

“‘M okay. Just my… head.” A different pair of hands hold her up, and her brain is working enough to recognize that she loves the smell of the person attached to the hands. They are serious hands, and one of them sweeps gently over her face.

“Can you open your eyes for me, baby, please?” that good voice asks, and she wants to do anything the voice asks, but her eyes really hurt. She must say that out loud, because the voice says softly, “That’s alright, don’t strain yourself. Medics on the way. You’re going to be fine.”

“Tell him…” She is placed back in the car, can feel the softness of the seat against her back, and it’s nice. “Tell him that was mean… and not to do it again.” She feels lips on her face, turns toward them, sighs when they brush over hers. “Mmm. Or I’m going to… tell his mother.”  When Sophie wakes up, she feels like she’s been repeatedly punched in the head, thrown down a flight of stairs, and then run over by a truck, so, naturally, she groans. She doesn’t dare open her eyes at first, can already see the fluorescents flickering through her eyelids, but her mouth is dry, and since she knows she must be in a hospital, she knows that there’s a little plastic pitcher of water somewhere within her reach.

Cautiously, she cracks one eye, finds the pitcher and a kind looking woman with fair skin and dark bangs staring back at her.

“You’re awake!” she whispers excitedly, and she leans forward for a hug, which Sophie does not return, because she doesn’t know the woman. The woman must feel the tension in Sophie’s body as she sits, arms at her sides, and waits for the hug to end, because she pulls back, concerned. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No,” she begins, unsure of how to put this politely. Her voice is dry, rough, and the woman pours her a glass of water, which she takes gratefully. “I’m sorry, I just… I don’t… Do I know you?” Her face falls, and she looks confused, and then abruptly worried.

“My name is Emily. Prentiss. Does that ring a bell?” Sophie thinks back, tries to navigate around the pounding in her temples, and ultimately shakes her head.

“No, I’m sorry. And I mean no disrespect—I meet a lot of people for work, so sometimes it’s hard to keep track.”

“Where do you work?”

“I work for the FBI. Intelligence.” Sophie takes in the woman’s outfit—black turtleneck, gray pants, boots, government issued handgun—and tilts her head curiously. “And you?”

“FBI. Behavioral Analysis Unit.” She pulls her bag closer on the seat beside her, pulls out her credentials, lets Sophie hold them. “Have you heard of it?”

“Sure, of course. I have an interview there next week, actually.” She hands back the badge with a smile. “Small world. Uh, do you think that what happened to me occurred because of a crime, or something? Is that why you’re here?"

Agent Prentiss gives her a sad smile, then stands, pulling out her cell phone. “You know, we’re really not sure what’s going on. Excuse me for one moment, I need to make a call. I’ll get your doctor while I’m out there.”

“Okay. Thanks,” Sophie calls as she heads out of the room, and she pours another glass of water.

When the agent returns with the doctor, she looks tenser, but the doctor just shoots her a kind smile. “Hello, Sophie. I’m glad to see you’re awake.”

“Thank you; I’m glad to be awake. How long have I been out?”

“About two days. You were in a car accident, do you remember that?” She’d catalogued her injuries while alone—laceration to the head, some pain and swelling there; aching wrist, sore but unbroken; bruised ankle, tender but okay to put pressure on—and they are consistent with a car accident, but she shakes her head.

“No, ma’am, I don’t remember.” The doctor frowns, an expression the agent behind her mirrors.

“What’s the last thing you do remember?”

“Um.” She closes her eyes, thinks hard for a moment, but it hurts her eyes. “I was driving home from work, I think? Or about to leave for the day. It’s kind of blurry.”

“That’s alright, don’t press too hard. It should come back to you in no time.” She steps around the bed to pull her chart off the wall, skims it briefly. “We’re going to have to run some scans; I’ll give you a moment with Agent Prentiss, and then I’ll send someone in to take you down to the lab, okay?”

“Sure. Thank you, doctor.” The woman smiles and walks out of the room, leaving her with the clearly unhappy agent. “Is everything okay, Agent Prentiss? You look about as bad as I feel.” The woman sighs, drops back down into her seat, folds her hands in her lap.

“The doctor believes you’re suffering from retrograde amnesia. You don’t remember some things you should remember. Quite a bit of time.” Her throat goes dry again, her heart beats rapidly in her chest.

“That’s not possible. I remember driving home from work… or, getting in the car to drive home from work, just the other day.” She shakes her head like she’s not sure what to say.

“I know, Sophie, but that’s not a recent memory. You don’t work at the Grant building anymore.”

“What do you mean? I’m the Intelligence liaison. I mean, I applied for the BAU job…” She’s wanted to work there since she found out about it, to put her degrees to good use; to get an interview is almost unheard of, everyone told her, but she made the cut, even bought a new suit to wear. It’s still hanging in her closet.

“And you got it,” Prentiss says gently, reaching forward to take her hand. “You and I have been working together at the BAU for almost two years.”

Sophie can’t be blamed, she doesn’t think, when she leans over, reaches for the wastebasket, and promptly vomits.  “So I’m a profiler, and I’ve been one for two years. I work with you and we’re friends,” Sophie repeats as a bit of a recap. Prentiss nods.

“Yep. Those who profile serial killers together, stick together.” She says it with a smile that doesn’t touch her eyes.

“Wow. Okay. I’m really sorry I don’t remember you.” She shrugs it off, and Sophie sighs. “Any other major life events I should know about? Did I get a cat, go vegan?”

“You don’t have time for a pet, and you like cheese too much,” Prentiss jokes, but that does sound like something she’d say. Her face gets serious after that, and she even looks nervous. It makes Sophie nervous, too. “You have a boyfriend.”

That raises her eyebrows.

“I have a boyfriend.” She smiles softly, nods.

“Yes. He’s… it’s funny, because he’s actually... our boss.” Sophie blanches. Talk about a close-knit group.

“I’m sleeping with my boss? That is not like me.” She barely sleeps with anyone, too busy focusing on her career and not that into one-night-stands, but her boss of all people? That’s just plain stupid.

“It’s really not like that, trust me. You two are in love.” Okay, she’s heard enough. Maybe Prentiss is a prankster, playing some wildly hilarious joke on her amnesiac pal.

“I’m in love. Did I actually say that?” She knows herself pretty well, flaws and all, and she’s been a vehement skeptic when it comes to love for… god, as long as she can remember—no pun intended. Prentiss nods, looks very serious.

“Yes, I’ve heard you say it many, many times. You two live together.”

“We live together? For how long?” This can’t be right; one of the things she values most is her privacy, her solitude. She lives a quiet, simple life, aside from being an FBI agent, and she likes it that way.

“About six months,” she answers carefully.

“We’ve lived together for six months? How long have we been dating?” Her voice sounds a little shrill even to her own ears. Prentiss is being very cool about it all, doesn’t so much as blink.

“It’s a year next week, actually. He’s been trying to come up with a surprise for your anniversary.” Sophie feels a little lightheaded.

“Anniversary. Fuck.” She squeezes her eyes shut, which hurts, opens them only so the pain will go away. She knows they’re teary, can’t help it, but she doesn’t want Prentiss to see her like this. She hates being vulnerable, always has. “I can’t remember two years of my life. I can’t remember my own boyfriend, my own job. My friends.”

“I can tell you about them, if you want,” she offers cautiously. “The doctor said it could help, but if you feel like it’s too much, let me know.”

Sophie nods carefully. She wants to know, she needs to know.

Prentiss—Emily—is so genuinely kind. She sits there for an hour, tells Sophie about work, and their team—their friends, because the group is very tight, gets together for dinner and drinks, and they all support each other’s non-bureau endeavors, and she feels so sad that she can’t remember them, can’t recall anything Emily is rattling off so easily it’s like she doesn’t even have to think about it.

She talks about some tough cases they’ve worked on, and how they always end with a cookout or a family dinner so they can remember why they do the hard things, why they keep fighting. She talks about people they’ve helped, saved, brought comfort to. She talks about flights home on the jet, how sometimes they sit in quiet, companionable silence and other times it’s all teasing and laughter and the good things in life.

Then she starts talking about Aaron—the boss/boyfriend—and Sophie does cry, a couple of tears rolling slowly down her cheeks. She’d never imagined in her life that she would be as loved as she is, if Emily’s stories are true, and the fact that she can’t remember any of it is like a knife to the gut. She wants to scream, to make someone pay for what she’s missing, but she knows none of that will bring her memory back, so she dials back the rage as quickly as it came—huh, that’s new.

Usually, her particular brand of anxiety attack would happen right about now, always worse when she’s afraid or angry. She anticipates tightening in her chest, shortness of breath, ringing in her ears that takes forever to go away, but it doesn’t come. She’s able to calm herself with a deep breath, and despite the fact that the rest of her life is a dumpster fire right now, this feels kind of good. It feels like progress, not a story told through someone else’s eyes, but a tangible feeling she can hold onto and think, I am a different version of Sophie than I was two years ago. A better version, maybe. But at least different. That, above everything else, makes it real.

A nurse walks in to take Sophie down for scans, and Emily just smiles, a bit sadly, and tells her she’ll be there waiting when she returns.

It’s a small comfort, something she holds onto as she’s taken down to the lab. When Sophie makes it back to her room, Emily is waiting there as promised, and she has a duffle bag sitting on the bed. “The doctor says you can go home while they wait for the scans,” she says with a smile; she probably thinks it will make Sophie happy, and it does, but the idea of going to a home she’s never been to is a little unsettling. Still, it’s nice to know there are people who care about her who will help her through it, that she’s not alone. That’s not something Sophie of two years ago would have been able to count on.

She smiles back, and Emily helps her change into clothes that somehow still smell like the hospital, but it feels better to be dressed and not stuck in the flimsy hospital gown that always makes you feel weaker and sicker, more injured than you really are.

She hears a voice from out in the hall, a voice that catches her attention immediately, and she walks over to the door, peeks her head out to see if she can find the man it belongs to.

She does, and he is almost too good-looking to be real. Somehow, she both instinctively knows that this man is Aaron, and can’t see how that could possibly be true.

“Emily. Is that Aaron?” she asks to confirm, pointing to the tall, serious-looking, frankly smoldering hot man having a conversation with her doctor at the end of the hall. She peeks her head out the door too, looks toward him with a smile.

“Yeah, that’s him. Do you remember him?” Her tone is guarded but hopeful, and Sophie sighs.

Remember him, no, not in the way she means, but every cell in her body feels alive and on fire just from catching a glimpse of his face, so she’s pretty sure Emily is right and she’s crazy in love with him. And his suit. Who looks that good in a suit?

Her boyfriend, apparently. Who she lives with. Who she’s been with for a year. Her mind is still a little blown.

“I don’t recall any memories of him,” she whispers, as if he can hear her from down the hall, “but, uh. I think my body remembers him.” Emily looks at her, eyebrow quirked, and she blushes. “Or, you know. Parts of it.”

Realization dawns, and Emily grins. “Okay yeah, that tracks. You two are kind of all over each other. It’s an intense vibe.” Sophie takes a moment to imagine that, what it would be like to be in a relationship with this man.

He looks intense, which can be good or bad, with the kind of mouth you could kiss forever, smile against. He’s taller than her by about a foot, which thrills her, and broad, as evidenced by the jacket stretched across his shoulders, which really thrills her. He’s older, maybe early forties, which she doesn’t feel particularly strongly about one way or another, with gorgeous dark hair and eyes, and when he shakes hands with the doctor, silver wrist watch gleaming under the fluorescent lights, her mouth practically waters.

“Earth to Sophie. You’ve got a little drool, there,” Emily teases, pointing to her own mouth, and Sophie groans.

“You didn’t prepare me. You didn't tell me he was hot.” Aaron turns away from the doctor, starts walking down the hall toward her room, and she ducks out of the doorframe, Emily following suit. She puts a hand to her forehead, not in physical pain, but mental pain for sure. “God, this is going to be so awkward. I’ve got a total lady boner for the guy I’m in love with that I can’t even remember.”

“It might be a little awkward at first, but you guys are sweet together. He’s going to be so caring and understanding, give you all the time you need.” She puts her hands on Sophie’s arms, grounding her. “We’re going to focus on trying to get your memories back, but the doctor said you shouldn’t stress.”

“That’s easy for her to say,” she mutters, crossing her arms, “she didn’t forget her big sexy boyfriend.” She hears a soft chuckle from behind her and instantly flushes, which makes Emily grin.

“Sophie, this is Aaron.” She physically turns her, and Aaron is smiling gently, which makes him look even better than when he was serious and expressionless. Her heart thrums in her chest.

“Hi. I’m sorry I don’t remember you. I want to.” She sticks out her hand for a shake, feels dumb instantly, but he takes it anyway, holds it for a moment. His hand is rough, so much bigger than hers, and part of her hopes he never lets go.

“That’s alright. Dr. Bracken is confident you’ll recover all of your memories in time. She’s given me some instruction on ways we can try to jog your memory, but no stress, like Emily said.”

“I guess we’re not considering the fact that losing two years of your life is a little stressful,” she counters, and he laughs again.

“You haven’t lost anything. Just misplaced them for a while.” He steps toward her, like he wants to touch her, comfort her maybe, but freezes, thinks better of it. She’s torn between wanting to get to know him better first and wanting to jump into his arms immediately, so she decides to let him set the pace. “So… Do you want to come home with me?” His voice is soft, hopeful, matching his eyes. “Garcia—our friend, another coworker of ours—has offered to put you up at her place if you’re not comfortable with that, so no worries either way. You have a place to go.”

Her stomach sinks a little at the thought of being anywhere but home, even though she has no idea where that is, and she looks back at Emily, who smiles encouragingly.

“I think I want to go home,” she decides after a moment, and she turns back to look at Aaron. “Is that okay with you?” He nods seriously.

“Yes, of course. I want you home with me. I just wanted you to know you had other options.” Emily slips past her, a hand on her elbow, and finishes gathering up her belongings while they talk. “The rest of the team is going to come over for a little bit, if you’re okay with that. The doctor said it would be a good idea, since you spend most of your time with them, but if at any point it gets overwhelming, let me know. No hard feelings if we send everyone home.”

“Okay,” she breathes, her head already swimming a bit just from talking to Aaron, and he does step forward, then, giving her her space but indicating that he wants to come closer, if she’ll let him.

“May I put this on you?” he murmurs, and opens his palm to display her rose necklace, the one she wears, must still wear, everyday. At least that hasn’t changed. “The EMTs gave it to me when they brought you in. I’ve been holding onto it for safekeeping.” She nods, turns around, and he slips it around her throat, clasps it, brushes a careful hand over her neck to move her hair out of the way. “That’s better,” he says, his breath ghosting over her skin, and she sighs, wants to sink back against the heat of his body; she just knows how comforting it would be, how safe she would feel. Instead, she turns and smiles softly.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” They hold eye contact for a moment, and then Emily appears at her side, making a face like she knows she’s interrupting something.

“Ready to get going?” she asks, handing Sophie’s duffle bag over to Aaron. “I’m going to stop at home and then I’ll head to your place.”

“Absolutely. Thank you, Emily,” Sophie says sincerely, stepping forward to pull her into a tight hug. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I hope I remember more about you soon.”

“I’m happy I could be here, and I know you will. Just give it some time.” She pats her on the back, and then leaves the room.

Aaron carries her bag and leads her out to the parking garage, toward a standard federal issued SUV, and he opens the door for her, closes it behind her with a gentle smile.

Time to go home.

Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal

[thefairyletters]

✨ Spooky Recs✨

I read a lot of fanfictions... More than I am proud of. I thought I should recommend as I go before I lose sight of their existence among the sea of my favorites.

Since past few days I have been craving for some creepy, unnerving fanfics that will keep me restless and awake at night. I remembered my favorites and wanted to read more of the kind so I looked up, patiently going through each story that sounded compelling. I also revisited old stories for nostalgia's sake.

Of course, rare as they are, in Naruto fandom no less, it's even harder to find a horror and mystery fic that is well written, not dropped under 2 chapters, and really keeps your attention.

🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹

Genre: Horror, Mystery, Comedy

I've rated 4 aspects of the work -

Writing – I don't judge writing based solely on the grammar and vocabulary. I also consider how the author expands upon a subject, if they are consistent with the facts, if they are able to keep the attention of the readers regardless of their creative writing skills.

Characters – If the characters are well-developed, in their given character, if OCs have any real significance to the story.

Plot – How gripping is the storyline, if the story sticks to its original plot, the structure of the story, plot holes.

Flow – Mother-of-slow-burn, slow-but-steady, steady, fast, I-am-speed

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When the flowers cry : TCOOKIES777 || M || AO3/FFN || SasuSaku || Goth Horror || Post-Canon, set during Blank Period || Ongoing

When one of the greatest medical-nin in the world goes missing in what should have been a simple delivery to the Land of Spring’s Hidden Snow Village, the rest of Team 7 must reunite to find her. But even the most powerful team of shinobi will find themselves challenged in a battle against the supernatural. With Sasuke's return, vengeful ghosts of the past will test him and his love.

My thoughts : One of the best stories I've read in a while, and top tier SS stories. I read this in one sitting. I never listen to music while reading, preferring silence, but for this one, I suggest you do as the author says. Also, keep some tissues and food with you. This story is major in mystery and minor in horror but otherwise full of SS fluff.

Writing: 10/10

Characters: 10/10

Plot: 9/10

Flow: Steady, if a bit confusing (but that's why it's mystery)

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Kyuro : silver_shot || T || AO3 || SasuSaku || Mystery || Post-Canon || Complete

“Oh,” says Naruto, “well, its sort of like that. Except in this village, the story has a way more darker ending – it basically goes like this: the girl and the guy plan to run away together. The guy steals a bunch of treasure, and stashes it away. But then, when he goes to get the girl at her village, he kills her and decides to run away with all that money. But then he is killed by the guards of the girls village and now they're both dead and the treasure is hidden away somewhere”. Sasuke stares blankly at the blond, “that story makes no sense”.

My thoughts : I know you must be thinking the same thing as Sasuke – "makes no sense". I did too, but it's a pretty cool short story. It lies on the funny, creepy side that slowly starts to lose its funny touch. SS makes stupid mistakes later on but it could be because they are MCs. The ending is very ambiguous. It's not my favorite mystery but it is something. Enjoyable read but not something I will pick again.

Writing: 8/10

Characters: 8/10

Plot: 8/10

Flow: Fast

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Moon stuttering in the sky : xfrinz || T || AO3 || Gen || Mystery || Pre-Shippuden || One-shot

Kakashi is suspicious of many things about Haruno Sakura. Too many things about her don't make sense, with too many incongruous explanations.

My thoughts : Author of this story just summarised Pre-Shippuden in less than 4k words and made some tiny changes to it. Not much though. One of my favorite gen fics yet. Read it if you haven't yet. You'll feel more sad than thrilled tbh. But worth it.

Writing: 10/10

Characters: 10/10

Plot: 10/10

Flow: I-am-Speed

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Breath mints : silver_shot || T || AO3 || SasuSaku || Comedy-Mystery || Post-Canon || Ongoing (maybe)

Their home no longer exists with the life it once had – in fact no settlement thrives anymore; they exist only in a snapshot that contradicts time itself. Families within their own homes sleep in a slumber that they cannot wake from. Those that were chatting on the street prior to the event simply drop their heads and remain unresponsive.

My thoughts : I picked it up for Mystery but I stayed for Comedy. But of course that's not to say supernatural elements in this story is not it, but it sure pales in comparison to effortless humor in this story. Lee and Kiba pair is something you don't see often but they get along too well here. Charactisation is on point as well. SS angst! + NS angst (but it's downplayed)

Writing: 10/10

Characters: 10/10

Plot: 9/10

Flow: Steady

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The Curse : sincerelyLen || T || FFN || SasuSaku || Horror || Post-Canon || Ongoing

Team 7 is unexpectedly assigned an S-Ranked Mission involving an unsolved mystery of 10 years. An eerie adventure that will test their teamwork, strengths, and greatest fears. Do you believe in Curses?

My thoughts : My all-time favourite horror Naruto fanfiction. To me, this sets the standard of how mystery and horror elements should be handled. I have never been able to get this story out of my mind even it's been years. Perfect charactisation of Team 7 with Smart-yet-Stupid!Sakura, I-can-fight-aliens-and-reanimated-corpses-but-keep-ghosts-away-from-me!Naruto and I-dont-get-paid-enough-for-this!Sasuke. I especially love OCs here. They kinda reminds me of Pillars from KnY. You must read this story, loosely based on Zombie apocalypse + curse concept.

Writing: 10/10

Characters: 10/10

Plot: 10/10

Flow: Slow-but-Steady

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Silent High : Istoria || T || FFN || Gen || Mystery || Post-Canon || Complete

A bit of the Silent Hill series mixed in with Naruto. Trapped in an illusion whose rules are unknown, they struggle to find answers before darkness consumes them.

My thoughts : One of the best mystery fanfictions I've read. I especially loved how this story handled Genjutsu in the best possible way it could without it turning into some cliche, ghost story. Though really, this story has shown what my greatest fear actually is. I will never be able to leave my back open to a wheelchair. This story has simple writing yet it gives you creeps with the twists and turns. A must read one because it is unlike any other in this list.

Writing: 9/10

Characters: 10/10

Plot: 10/10

Flow: Steady

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Silence of the Damned : Daystar Clarion || T || FFN || Gen || Psychological Horror, Mystery(?) || Pre-Shippuden || One-Shot

When Naruto wakes up to a dead body in his bathroom, he begins a quick spiral into madness.

My thoughts : Listen to Halsey's Control while reading this. Quite chilling, deals with mental issues and morbid but in a fascinating way. It gives a new meaning to Dark!Naruto, but one that actually makes sense. I never saw the ending coming... I had something else in mind and I was convinced it would be, but nope. Here's a sequel to this One-Shot (Uzumaki's War) which I never picked up.

Writing: 10/10

Characters: 9/10

Plot: 9/10

Flow: Slow-but-steady

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To the Victor : Letta || T || FFN || NaruSaku || Psychological Horror || Shippuden || One-Shot

Naruto loses the fight and Sakura is a trophy of war.

My thoughts : A very twisted NS, if you squint. It's not horror but it might as well be... it is still a disturbing story to see from the eyes of Sakura. Quite chilling to be in Sakura's shoes. But I love this because it is one shot and I loved the ending.

Writing: 9/10

Characters: 10/10

Plot: 8/10

Flow: Steady

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Under the Skin : BukkakeNoJutsu || T || FFN || Team 8 || Body Horror || Pre-Shippuden || One-Shot

Your actions don't make you a monster. Your reasons do.

My thoughts : There's a reason why Shino is my favourite team 8 member. In my opinion, Shino is also one of the strongest Shinobi of his generation. His clan techniques are just that horrifying. This story is testament to that. He is so terrible.

Writing: 10/10

Characters: 10/10

Plot: 10/10

Flow: Slow-but-steady

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Instant Message : Keelah || T || FFN || SasuSaku || Murder mystery || Modern AU || Incomplete

She gave him names to kill, in order not to be killed herself. But having blood on her hands was turning out to be much worse than dying. "…There's still round 2…3…4…" When does this game end? She asked. "Don't you see, Sakura?" He said, "It never does."

My thoughts : I read this story a long time ago and have read this twice. Personally, it has the most interesting concept of all stories in the list. It reminds me of Vocaloid series, "Bookmark of the end". Kind of. To those who are thinking of picking this up, go ahead! It's a great book and has one of the best suspense I've read in Fandom. BUT, it has been stopped in mother-of-all-cliffhangers and Author is MIA for 4 years now. But, all things considered, it remains to be one of the best stories I've read.

Writing: 10/10

Characters: 9/10

Plot: 10/10

Flow: Steady

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Monomoth : Ohtze || M || FFN/AO3 || SasuSaku || Horror || AU || Incomplete

Everything ends, eventually. Eight years after the war, Sakura's unhinged and Sasuke's obsessed. The fields are filled with corpses.

My thoughts : I read this story right after "The Curse", my favourite. From what I remember, Sakura and Sasuke are both mentally deranged, in different ways. Lots of death and gore to stomach, so not for weak readers. There's no speak of fluff in this one. Zero, Zilch, Nada. I wouldn't call it your classic 'Horror', but it is very disturbing, so psychological horror is more like it. Don't eat food while reading this one. Did I mention how Sakura is mentally disturbed beyond help in this one? And Sasuke is obsessed. If these suit your tastes, go ahead.

Writing: 10/10

Characters: 9/10

Plot: 10/10

Flow: Slow

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I hope you enjoy this list. Let me know your opinion in comments.

[skipps-writes-for-gojo-satoru]

Winter Prompt #38 " You're under the mistletoe so stop stalling and just kiss."

The door to your office slams open and there stands Kugisaki with an evil look in her eyes. You pause your writing staring at her questionably.

"...Can I help you?"

"Sensei, you have to come with me right away!"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Come on, sensei!" Kugisaki grabs you by your hand and drags you out of your office, you stumble a bit by her speed but follow her regardless. "I'm guessing it's another fashion problem." As she drags you out from the faculty building into another building.

After what seemed like 10 minutes of running, Kugisaki stops in front of the door before sliding it open and pushing you inside. "Oof" as you stumble into the room, turning back to look at the door closed behind you.

"Oh, (Y/N) what a surprise～！"

You whip your head towards the sound of the voice and you're met Gojo Satoru standing in the middle of the room. "Gojo, what are you doing here?" "Yuji kun told me that he prepared some sweets for me so I came, well looks like he meant a different kind of sweet." Gojo smirks as he looks at you with blindfolded covered eyes. You blush at his implication, folding your arms over your chest. "Well too bad because I'm not here for you. Actually I'm not sure why I'm here." You turn around and try to open the sliding door but it was locked you tried using more force but the door wouldn't budge in the slightest.

You sigh feeling as you fell into one of your students pranks again, but you had to admit you weren't all that mad to be stuck in a room with Gojo.

"Oh look up!" Gojou exclaims as he points towards the ceiling, you follow his finger and your eyes land on the mistletoe hanging above the both of you. Your eyes widen as you feel yourself blushing, while Gojo just grins towards you.

"You know what this means (Y/N)～"

"U-Uh um, I don't...?"

"Aww come on don't be shy now!"

Gojo approaches you with his arms wide open inviting you. You slowly step back, feeling flustered.

"Ah, I don't think we should...!"

"Why not?"

"B-Because we'reー"

"You're under the mistletoe so stop stalling and just kiss." You hear voice come from behind the sliding door, you whip your head around feeling more embarrassed. "M-Megumi?!" "You heard the kid." Gojo grins as he pins you against the door. You feel your hands sweating from nervousness unable to look up until you feel a hand tilt your chin up. You were met with the most gorgeous blue eyes interlocked with yours. "When did he take off the blindfold...?!" He leans in closer and closer to your face, feeling yourself caught in trance his lips slowly cover yours. You stiffen for a second before relaxing, his lips perfectly mending with yours. His lips were warm and just as soft as you imagined them to be. Oh, how many times has your mind wondered towards his glossy lips. After a while Gojo pulls away but his face still was close to yours. "You should see yourself right now, you look like a tomato." Your hands fly up to your face as you feel your face radiating with heat.

"Now...where were we?" Gojo pins your hands against the wall as puts his leg between yours. Your mind goes blank, as his lips closes on yours again.

Bonus

"Urgh, I can't believe Gojo sensei made us help him set him up with (L/N) sensei!"

"It's done, let's just go..."

"Wait wait, not yet!"

"We're leaving you perv!"

Taglist: @the-fandoms-georgie @crapimahuman

[lovedthestars-toofondly]

Title: I Find You All Unwoven

Author: TheStarlingsRedstart

Category: M/M

Rating: General Audiences

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin

Word count: 1122

Having returned from Azkaban a changed man, crown prince Sirius is married off to Remus Lupin, the sickly second son of a minor house. They try to make the best of it, to be polite, to give each other space, to each keep their growing feelings tightly under wraps because how could he ever love someone like me? Then, one night, Sirius has a nightmare.

In a truly miraculous occurrence, I wrote a new fic!

it’s under the cut right here, but I’ll also add the AO3 link in a reblog

(oh and just to be clear, I despise R*wling and her views)

A sob cuts through the bizarre half-life of Remus’ dreams, and the sound of it is solid and indisputable enough that he wakes. Beside him, Sirius is still sleeping, but he must be having nightmares, because his whole body is shaking, and tears are streaming down his face.

Still groggy, Remus reaches out with one hand and carefully touches Sirius’ arm. The touch doesn’t seem to scare Sirius, so he moves his whole body closer to his – his husband, his mind still stumbles over the word every time –, gently puts one arm around him, then draws him in close and begins to rub circles between his too-sharp shoulder blades.

He remembers crying as a small child, his whole body wracked with sobs that he couldn’t seem to control, remembers how his wetnurse rubbing his back like that used to ground him, allow him to breathe again.

Bit by bit, Sirius’ breathing becomes slower, less frantic, the sobs subside, until he’s quietly weeping into Remus’ chest. Remus keeps rubbing Sirius’ back, runs a tentative hand through his hair, half-longs to brush the tears off his still hollow cheeks but shies away from the intimacy of it, so instead he just holds him, keeps his arms wrapped around the other man’s body, quietly aching at his inability to do more, until they both drift off to sleep.

The next morning, Remus wakes to find the other side of the bed cold and empty, and does not catch a single glimpse of Sirius through the entire day.

*

 Cold. Cold and darkness and the sea thrashing against the solid rock of the fortress, day and night, the wind howling ceaselessly, tearing any words from his lips before he’s even fully formed them. He’d tried to sing when they first brought him here, tried to find some warmth and company in the melodies he remembered from home, but you could hear no singing here, not in this wind. You couldn’t hear screams either, he’d soon found out, no matter how much you screeched and wailed and raged and begged until your throat was raw. No one would hear you. So he’d gotten quieter over the years, first his voice, then his mind, until his thoughts had slowed down to a crawl, rarely collecting themselves enough to form a full sentence. At this point, he barely remembers the songs, nothing left but for the occasional scrap floating through his mind, reminding him of what he’s lost.

He doesn’t want to go back. He doesn’t want to face Remus, doesn’t want to meet the gaze of those beautiful green eyes, like sunlight getting caught in moss, doesn’t want to have to apologise, not after clinging to the front of his smock shaking and sobbing with night terrors, not after forcing his husband (his husband) to comfort him and wipe away his tears like he’s a child, not after clinging to him when he’d promised to leave him be after their first night, not after he’s been so weak.

Remus is gentle and capable and intelligent, Remus can walk from the kitchen garden to the library and point out fifty different plants and list their uses along the way, Remus writes down his keen, astute observations in a tidy, elongated hand and at an astonishing speed, and Remus most definitely has better things to do than coddle an emaciated, prematurely greying ex-prisoner who’s still struggling to string together more than three words at a time.

So Sirius avoids him.

He spends the morning out riding, not on the magnificent black stallion with which his father has provided him, but on a dappled grey gelding with one white foot and gentle eyes. The woods around the castle are quiet when there are no hunting parties out, and large enough to get lost in. He counts twenty-three types of plant that he doesn’t know the name of.

After a brief but unsatisfactory afternoon at the practice range, where he quickly learns that his hands still aren’t steady enough for throwing blades like he used to, Sirius retreats to the gallery, thanking the heavens that no one ever comes up here. He instructs an attendant to bring him some wine, then makes a face at a particularly judgemental great-uncle on the opposite wall.

“What? You wouldn’t be having fun in this situation either.”

Talking is easier when he’s by himself, when there’s no one around who has to wait those painfully slow seconds it takes him to remember simple words. He lifts his drink in a toast to a solemn-looking couple a short way down from the great-uncle.

“To marriage! The greatest source of man’s happiness on Earth.”

He drains the whole thing in one go, then pours himself another cup. There’s still at least half an afternoon left to kill.

*

When Sirius finally shows up to dinner, he’s drunk. It’s not that he’s loud, singing or shouting or calling out for more, nor is he staggering or swaying. But his movements are slower than usual, more careful, and his eyes are unfocused, and not in the way they get when he’s drowning in memories.

You are awfully familiar with that man’s demeanour, given that you’ve only known him for two months, a part of Remus notes, but he tells it, Shut up, we’re married, and I’m supposed to take care of him.

Sirius gingerly lowers himself into a chair, and Remus takes in the flushed cheeks, the shadows under his eyes, the messy hair.

“You’re late.”

Remus has spent the whole day in the library, feeling like he’s sitting on hot coals because part of him kept hoping that Sirius would show up, would say something, would maybe even touch him again. After all, he usually pokes his head in at some point during the day, asks about the translation work or joins him for lunch or points out a particularly weird-looking illustration that Remus then spends the next half hour explaining.

Not today though – of course not, another part of him insists, why would he after last night, with Remus having trespassed over the line they’d so carefully drawn between them, demanding a closeness he has no right to ask for, falling asleep wrapped around him. It’s hardly his right to be upset, not when he’s spent the whole day pointedly not thinking about the feeling of Sirius’ body against his, the layers of skin and tissue and bone under his hands, the way his hair smells, the sound of his ragged breathing growing quieter bit by bit, how his fingers had clung to Remus’ nightshirt.

It’s not like Sirius owes him his time or company; it’s not like this is a romance where they got married for love. It’s fine.

[bellakitse]

Peach Boba

“I’m sleeping with TK Strand,” he blurts out in an exhale, his shoulders loosening as the words are finally given voice. He waits for Michelle’s reaction, shock, or disbelief. Instead, she continues chewing, barely sparing him a glance.

*

Carlos tells Michelle about him and TK, she gives him advice. TK surprises him.

Fictober 2020

Prompt number: 2. “that’s the easy part”

Fandom: 911 Lone Star - Rated G

Carlos Reyes sits across his friend Michelle, watching her eat instead of eating; he's played around with his chicken and rice for the last fifteen minutes while Michelle devours her meal. There are words at the tip of his tongue that Carlos is sure he'll explode if he doesn’t get them out.

“I’m sleeping with TK Strand,” he blurts out in an exhale, his shoulders loosening as the words are finally given voice. He waits for Michelle’s reaction, shock, or disbelief.  Instead, she continues chewing, barely sparing him a glance. 

He waits, getting annoyed when she still doesn’t say anything. “Seriously, chica?” he questions, irritated. “You have an opinion about everything – but this, nada?”

“I’m waiting for you to tell me something surprising,” she answers easily, taking another bite.

“You didn’t know,” he accuses her, scowling when she just shrugs a shoulder at him.

“I didn’t know for sure,” she agrees, reaching over to steal a piece of chicken from his takeout container. “But you two undress each other when we’re all on calls together, and I see you lingering around each other as I work on the victims.”

“You should be focused on the scene,” he tells her, blushing at her observations and the smirk she gives him now.

“I could say the same for you, Officer Reyes,” she teases, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “Instead, you end up mooning over that pretty boy. You telling me how you’re sleeping with him isn’t a big reveal, kid.”

“Oh,” he says softly, not sure what to say next.

Michelle watches him quietly, sipping on her water as she waits. When he doesn’t say anything, she rolls her eyes, letting out a huff. “Well?” she demands impatiently. “How is he in the sack?”

Carlos feels his face go red hot as his eyes widen. “Michelle!”

“Oh, come on,” Michelle scoffs, rolling her eyes again. “If you are telling me now, it’s because you want to talk about it.”

“We’re not talking about that,” he swears, earning a wince back from her.

“Oof, that bad, huh?” she says with pity in her voice that has him answering before reason can catch up with him.

“No!” he argues hotly. “TK is a ten, the sex is mind-blowingly amazing.”

Michelle grins at him victoriously, perfect white teeth flashing. “There, that wasn’t so hard, was it? No need to be such a prude.”

“I hate you,” Carlos tells her. He tries to give her a disapproving look, sighing when all she does is flash him another amused smile at his expense. Sometimes when dealing with Michelle, it’s exactly like dealing with one of his sisters.

“That’s a lie,” she tells him unconcerned before pointing at him with her fork. “So, what’s going on?”

Carlos hesitates, not sure how to put what he’s feeling into words. “It’s complicated,” he finally answers, rolling his eyes at the cliché.

Michelle raises an eyebrow at him. “What’s the problem? You just said he’s a ten,” she reminds him with a quirk of her lips. “I’ll tease you about that comment later by the way – and you said the sex is amazing. What’s so complicated about that?”

“Nothing is complicated about the sex,” he answers. “It’s fantastic – that’s the easy part,” he continues with a sigh, leaving out that it’s everything outside of the bedroom that gets dicey between him and TK.

Even without saying the words out loud, Michelle seems to read them off his expression alone. “Oh, Carlos,” she says with gentle teasing. “You really are the softest, sweetest boy.”

“Michelle,” he whines, feeling himself blush as she chuckles lovingly in his direction.

“Sorry, sorry,” she says quickly, still laughing softly at him.

“Yeah, I really feel your remorse as you laugh in my face,” he answers sarcastically, shaking his head when her eyes crinkle at the corners from her amusement.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Michelle repeats, taking a breath before letting it out loudly. “So, the problem isn’t the sex,” she says meaningfully. “It’s that you want it to not just be about sex.”

Carlos swallows, feeling his face go warm once again, but he finds himself nodding anyway. Michelle returns the gesture in understanding.

“You want to date him,” she continues, and Carlos nods once more, making Michelle smiles softly. She reaches over to place her hand over his. “So ask him. What’s the worse that can happen?”

“He could say no,” Carlos answers honestly. “He could say no, and I can lose him completely.”

“If that happens, he’s not as smart as he seems,” Michelle shoots back, and Carlos smiles at the protectiveness he hears in her voice; he turns his hand to intertwine their fingers, giving her hand a squeeze, silently thanking her for her support.

Michelle softens at the gesture.

“We should finish here,” he motions to their forgotten meal. “I still have to take you back to the station.”

Michelle nods, picking up her fork once more. She waits a moment before speaking again. “For the record, I don’t think you should worry about him saying no to a date at all.”

“No?” he questions, taking a bite of his lunch.

“No,” Michelle answers with a shake of her head. “Remember, I wasn’t surprised about you two – and that’s because that boy lights up around you as much as you do around him. It’s obvious.”

Carlos bites down on his lip, feeling his heart speed up at the hopefulness he feels with Michelle’s assurance. He lets her words run through his head for a moment.

“We have to stop somewhere before I take you back,” he tells her, feeling nervous and excited as he comes to a decision.

Michelle raises an eyebrow at him, but all Carlos does is smile.

 ֍֍֍

 “Shut up Michelle,” Carlos mutters, cheeks stained red as he pulls up to the Fire Station, one hand on the Peach bubble tea to make sure it doesn’t spill. Michelle grins at him from the passenger’s seat.

“Trying to win the boy over through his stomach,” she teases, paying no mind to his warning.

Carlos lets out a deep sigh as he parks. “He likes boba, okay,” he tells her, causing Michelle to snicker.

“You’re adorable, Carlos,” she continues.

Carlos sighs again, getting out of the car, waiting for Michelle as she comes around to his side. He rolls his eyes as she nudges him with her shoulder as they walk into the station.

“Hey!” calls out a voice above them.

Carlos looks over at the stairs; at the top stands TK, leaning on the rail as he looks down at them for a moment before he starts to make his way down.

“Yeah,” Michelle whispers at him, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “That smile on his face screams not interested.”

“Go away,” Carlos hisses at her as TK walks towards them; he feels her shake with laughter before she steps away just as TK comes to stand in front of him, he flashes her a smile before looking back at Carlos.

“Hey, you,” he says easily, his green eyes twinkling, obviously pleased to see him.

“Hey,” Carlos greets him back, he wonders if TK can hear his racing heart. “Brought you something,” he continues, lifting the cup in his hand towards him. He watches as TK lights up at the simple gift, and Carlos knows that he’s gone for the man in front of him without a shadow of a doubt.

“Peach?” TK asks, taking the drink from Carlos. He takes a sip, grinning around the straw. “You’re the best.”

“Yeah?” Carlos questions jokingly even as the words make his stomach flutter.

“Yep,” TK answers sweetly, taking another sip. “My favorite.”

“I know,” Carlos nods towards the drink in TK’s hand.

“Oh, yeah,” TK says, looking down at the drink. “That’s my favorite too.”

Carlos startles at the implication behind TK’s words; he looks at him, feeling his breath catch at the shy look TK gives him from under his eyelashes. He opens his mouth, ready to put his heart on the line and just ask TK out the way Michelle said.

“TK – “

“Hey, are you free tonight?” TK interrupts. He bites down on his bottom lip, a nervous smile on his face when Carlos raises an eyebrow at him. “I saw this ad for a drive-in on Franklin,” he tells him, the words coming out in a rush. “I thought it could be fun.”

“You wanna catch a movie?” Carlos questions, not sure if he hears TK right or if he’s daydreaming this very moment. “With me?”

“They’re playing Grease,” TK tells him like it explains everything. “We can get a bite to eat afterwards if we aren’t stuffed from popcorn and M&M’s.”

“A date?” he asks softly, hesitantly, hopefully.

“Yes,” TK answers just as soft, but sure. “A date.”

Carlos nods, probably more than he should by the way TK grins, pleased and amused.

“Okay, then,” he says, still smiling, bright and oh so beautiful. “My shift ends at seven, pick me up?”

“Yeah,” Carlos gets out, still shocked by the turn of events. “Seven.”

“Great,” TK answers quietly. He pauses for a moment before stepping forward into Carlos’ space, pressing his lips to the corner of his mouth without thought of who might be watching, or how, with the action – he’s stealing the last bit of Carlos’ heart that isn’t already his. “Thank you for my drink.”

[blackvelvetwriteson]

𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒: 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

                                                        (  ~ Kirishima Eijirou x Female                                                                          Reader Insert ~ )

GENRE: Smut and Fluffy Fluff!                                                                  

FANDOM: Boku No Hero Academia (My Hero Academia)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: SMUT! That’s it. It’s just a lot of love making today with some pretty aftercare.

SUMMARY: It’d been awhile since you and Eijiro had gotten together and he’d started his hero work while you decided to stay in school and focus more on studies. He got to train under his idol and, of course, you were proud of him. He worked damn hard to get where he’s at now. He continued training harder and harder everyday, but that also meant that he was even more drained than usual. You'd always talk on the phone after school and he'd entertain you with his stories of what he did on the job and you'd help him be caught up schoolwise. It was a give-give situation. It'd been at least two months at this point and you were a little agitated; both sexually and not. You missed feeling his strong arms around you, his soft lips sending you to bed every night and waking you up every morning. You missed seeing how his big, muscular, veiny hand enveloped yours, his gentle smile making your days brighter and eventually, at this point you'd had enough of not being together.

WORD COUNT: 2723

(Headers are mine, but the art inside of them are not! Please don’t steal or repost without credit!)

      Two months had passed up to this point and you still hadn't heard from your boyfriend. You were scrolling through your Instagram just staring at all of the pictures that you shared, your eyes tearing up a little as your mind wandered absolutely craving his touch. Was he in the hospital? Was he hurt? What was going on with him?

     Your nightmares were a bit more prominent now having spent a significant bit of time away from your lover, though they subsided, to some degree, when you got with Eijiro. Suddenly all of this time apart was getting to you and you ran out of medicine to help with it, your anxiety and depression levels absolutely through the roof.    It got so bad that even your friends had noticed; you weren't as chipper in class, you never ate as much, your gaze was either painted out the window or at the ground at any given time, and you absolutely refused to go anywhere. Mina and Ochako wanted to hang out after class to study and hang out before the big exam and instead you locked yourself in your room and studied lazily yourself. Needless to say, you got a D- and that was the worst you'd EVER done in a class. Not that you didn't know the material, just that you didn't have the energy or focus to sit through the test. Aizawa had noticed and pulled you aside and you explained lazily your mental health situation and he said that once your mental health gets better that he'll let you retake the quiz. Then he gave you a Nature Valley bar because you didn't look like you'd been eating.

You paced your room and you sighed softly thinking of what it'd take to get his attention. Knowing him, this week he was probably on office duty instead of patrolling the streets. You decided, with your dirty mind, to put on some lingerie to get his attention and hopefully it'd warrant a text back.

You slip on some black lacy lingerie, complete with a corset-style top that was laced up in the back and a built in bra, though it was just a bit too small for you even though everything else fit just fine, you just had some big boobs. You decided to deal with it.

It also had a black thong instead of panties and a small harness-looking belt that attached to lace garter straps secured around your thighs.

You walk in front of a mirror you had in your room and you sighed softly, aware that he loved your natural face, almost void of blemishes. You had a few textured marks on your forehead but otherwise you were good. Your lips lightly glazed over with some chapstick you'd put on beforehand, your cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink.

You bring your slender fingers up to your lips and you run your middle finger over your bottom lip, whimpering softly. You picked your phone up and took a couple of pictures, one with that vibrant smile he loved so much, your bright white teeth catching the light, your eyes squinting curtly as your bangs framed your face.

You took a more seductive picture, your fingers looped just barely under the thong strap, pulling up and showing off the outline of your, now obviously swollen pussy. You whimper at the friction and you bit your lip, snapping a few not as innocent photos.

You then took a naughty little video clip of your hand ducking in between your legs, your fingers pressing at your clit as you moan out softly, completely unaware of just how wet and aroused you truly were until you shifted your weight some and heard yourself stirring up a little.

You send a nice little text to him first.    

   "Hey baby. Are you busy?"

Almost instantly, you got a response back.

  "Yeah, I'm busy... I'm sorry, Pebble, I'll try and text more often. I've just been so backed up at this internship. I'm on office duty today so I might have some time to call later if you want."

Just as you expected; office time. You smirked a bit, instantly sending the cute picture and then the more provocative ones. You laid down on the bed awaiting his response.

"You know that smile of yours gets me every single time," he responded.

Your hand travelled down your body, wishing it was Kirishima's, his veins exposed on his arms as his fingers conformed to your curves, your muscles, every crevice and dip in your body. You moaned out softly, "Eijiro," in a soft, breathy tone. Your fingers were teasing your clit over the thin fabric of the thong and you arched your back a little. You'd accidentally sent him the video of you touching yourself in the bathroom and you dropped your phone, instantly, one of your fingers delving inside of you.

You arched your back more, gripping the sheets and sliding your finger into your tight pussy, slowly sliding another finger in. Your core ached for release you'd been holding off on, but tonight you just couldn't fight it anymore.

Your phone buzzed next to you, the name on your phone the only one you wanted to see. You tried to control your breathing and you bit your lip.  

   "H-Hullo," you hummed out, risking it and continuing to curl your fingers inside of yourself. You were a bit caught as you heard rhythmic thumping and your breathless boyfriend on the other side.

"B-Baby," he said in a drawn out-intoxicating sounded voice, moaning and whimpering into the phone quietly, his breathing deep and loud.

"Aww. Is someone a bit needy," you try to keep yourself collected as you heard him helplessly jerking himself off underneath his office desk.

"I-I've missed you so much... T-This has taken a toll o-on m-me too," he whimpered helplessly into the phone, his hips bucking up up into his hand, pumping his hand up and down his veiny shaft. His perfect, plush pink tip was oozing precum and he bit his lip, his jagged breathing coming through the phone turning you on even more.

"Mmm fuck, Eijiro," you whimpered out quietly as you hear his rhythmic thrusts and thumps speeding up and you can tell by how he's choking back his orgasm that he's close. You thrust your fingers inside of you, shakily breathing and moaning as your thighs trembled.

"I can tell you're close, Princess," he moaned out quietly. "I'm close too... C-Cmon. I know you can do it. I know you can make me cum," he whimpered out quietly.

His voice was so sexy to you. especially how he tried to dominate you though you guys weren't touching each other and when he was feeling a little submissive, his hoarse voice strained as he tried to stay discreet. You heard his moans, his inebriates moans filling your ear as sweet music. He moaned your name and his strained, tipsy tone shooting shivers right up your spine as he let out a quiet, intense moan.

You bit your lip and turned your camera on quickly flipping it to your slick dripping out of your pussy. You were greeted by Eijiro's sweet whimpers and whines as he watched you slide your fingers in and out in a quick, sticky rhythm.

"P-Please, please, please, please," he moaned as he showed his cock that you were so hungry for, the blush pink tip coated in precum and the shaft of his cock covered in those beautiful puckered veins that you loved so much.   "Make me cum," he whimpered out. "Make me fucking c-cum princess, please! I n-need it! I need you so goddamn bad!"

You couldn't hold it even if you wanted to, arching your back, dropping your phone, gripping your sheets and soaking your hand in your sweet, sticky cum.     "Eijiro!" You yelled out as you shuddered, overstimulating yourself, gasping for air and convulsing under your own touch. You were left breathless as you pushed yourself for him just wishing that he were there so you could feel him.     "D-Daddy," you kept muttering in between gasps and moans, your whimpers which were said dominant before melting into a pathetic puddle of small yips, bucking hips, and "please"-es.

He absolutely reveled in your orgasm, groaning and whimpering quietly, clearly getting close himself. He continued to whimper and whine, slapping a hand over his mouth so that he wouldn't alert his temporary employer. His face was painted all shades of red, a bit of sweat sheening his body, illuminating his exposed skin in all of the right ways. He continued his rhythmic pumping, eventually getting faster and faster, jerking around in his seat. It was then you realized how needy he actually was, not just a ruse to get you to get him to smooth one out while he was on the job and you, alone.   

    He hadn't even pulled his pants down to his knees and they just rested on his thighs. His face was contorted in need, his breathing hitching and shaky which, to be frank, never happened unless a situation arose in which you'd both been parted from each other. He never trembled unless you overstimulated him but he was a convulsing mess and he haven't even came yet.

"C-Cum," you managed to choke out, hoping to help him chase his release.  "P-Please cum for me daddy!~ I de-deserve it!~" Your pleasure replaced by sensitivity, your insides dripping and convulsing like crazy around your fingers as you listened to him moaning and groaning on the other side of the phone.

You'd barely even made it through your command and he'd pumped himself faster, faster, faster, deep, long strokes before he grabbed some tissues from off of the desk and he slapped his hand over his mouth, at first no noise was coming out. You stopped your... Festivities and just stared at the phone with glistening eyes as he hiked his legs up some, his hot, sticky seed shooting into the tissues that he placed over his tip, his lips parted barely, soft huffs of breath leaving him occasionally as he became a trembling mess in his seat while there was shuffling at the door. He no longer cared, just in absolute bliss as he got to please himself- finally- at the hands of his baby girl. He let out soft "ooh"s and "ah"s as he came down from his high, picking up the phone to see your glistening eyes and soft pink lips.

   "T-That was a-all..." You trailed off, the bass in your voice quieting as you stared at the beautiful man who you called your own

  "Yes, baby girl," he responded in his husky tone as he stared into your eyes, his french vermillion colored eyes glistening as he brushed his bangs out of his face. You noticed that his hair wasn't spiked, but rather smoothed down on his head, his bangs held back by a butterfly clip. He slid it back in his pants and he threw the sticky tissue away at the trashcan that lied under his desk.    

 "All for you." He shuffled some of his papers on his desk realizing that he only had a small amount of paperwork to file, having done the majority of it on 3 cans of Monster and an endless amount of coffee. He couldn't find it in himself to sleep knowing that you weren't able to without him but he also couldn't call you prior.

  "When can I see you again?" You asked in an innocent, breathy tone.

He picked up his schedule and then checked the time, his beautiful cherry red eyes falling back over how sad you looked, the moment of bliss covering up just how needy and depressed you really were. 

   "God I really wish I could... You don't even know," he whispered quietly into the phone as he wiped some sweat off of his forehead and he pinched the bridge of his nose. You could tell he was stressed but you couldn't help your expression dropping.    

    "I think I have an off-day here soon... Within the month, I'm sure of it." He said softly as he looked at your downed expression.

   "O-Oh," you said, your eyes glistening with tears that dared to fall.       "Y-Yeah no, that's fine," you force a smile into your phone and you shake your head.

     "You know you're my beautiful baby right?" He asked softly staring into your eyes, getting a mental picture of your features.        "You know you're so brave and strong, right? You know that I miss you and I don't want anybody else but you, don't you," he cooed out quietly to you.

You nodded allowing his words to envelop you.      "I know, Kiri," you whisper quietly as you curl up in a blanket.

"Have you eaten...?" His eyes looked a little worried as he already knew the answer and he sat up in his seat finally getting back to his work, his phone propped up against a book that was on his desk. He was surprisingly organized, pulling his bangs back and reclipping his hair; he looked so professional and you loved it, you just wished that you could be with him while he was being professional.

"No," you replied quietly, laying down with your back to the phone. His eyes peered at you and he sighed softly.

    "How long has it been?" He continued to try and coax answers out of you but you were crashing and dissociating.     "Look at me, baby girl," he whispered quietly, placing his pencil down and picking his phone up again.

You groan softly, the tears finally falling as you cover your eyes with your forearm.    "No," you spat quietly.        "You're not gonna like what you see then l-leave me o-or something a-and-"

 "Baby," he said in his soft stern voice. You immediately shut up and turned to look at him through your phone.    "Now that I have your attention. What was it that you told me awhile ago? 'Everybody cries. Even manly men,'" you loved it when he quoted you.    "You getting emotional isn't gonna make me love you any less," he said quietly as he gave you a nurturing smile. You cuddled a pillow and rested your head on it much like you'd do to Kiri, resting your head on his chest. You sniff quietly and just watch him.

  "Soon, my love," he whispered quietly as he hummed to you, lulling you to sleep that'd been eluding you for at least a month and a half. He smiled as he watched you peacefully, humming quietly as he continued to run his pencil over some paper, making work in his paperwork. He looked over your sleepy features, your lips that were slightly parted as you let out soft puffs of air, your rosy cheeks, your illuminating skin, your bangs that framed your face so perfectly, and finally your eyes that never rested even in sleep; he could tell you were having a nightmare. He wished so badly that he were there to kiss your forehead and tell you that everything would be okay. He craved your touch just as much as you craved him.

  "In one of my late days, I'll be there right beside you, cuddling you and letting you know it’ll all be okay," he whispered softly as he continued to muse and do his work.

[ultimatelytired]

Loyalty pt. 2

word count: 18,116

Fandom: MCYT Pairing: Emerald Duo x Male!Wolf!Reader Pronouns: He/Him Relationship: Familial/Platonic Occupation: N/A Ability: Wolf Hybrid

The character is that of a wolf hybrid, allowing them to have traits of a wolf. They have abnormal strength and speed with keen senses of smell, hearing and sight, making their nose and ears almost sensitive to anything. They are also granted with an abnormal height and the gift to shapeshift from a human/normal form to a more monstrous form.

Keys: [M/N]: Male Name  [S/C]: Skin Color [H/C]: Hair Color [E/C]: Eye Color [U/N]: Username

Warnings: character death, vulgar language, violence

the reader has three forms so far. full human form, they stand at 6″10ft tall with only wolf ears, tail and eyes. half/half form: 7″6ft with fur beginning to appear on his forearms and neck, his legs become hind legs but also his entire forearms become claws. full form: 8″2ft is a full werewolf. his body is covered entirely of fur, his face taking the form of a wolf and his body is bulking with more muscles. that would be the final form he has full control over, however, he has one final form. the complete wolf form where he’s on all fours and his animalistic instincts overwhelm his human instincts, meaning he has no control over himself when in this form. in this form, he stands at 9″0ft tall.

will make a pt. 3 after this one, maybe a pt. 4 if I don’t fit what I want into the pt. 3, but whatever. 

this was lagging all over the place because there are too many words.

that is all.

“Loyalty” pt.1

[M/N] hadn’t even known how much time had past since the war; since he lost Schlatt, his mind couldn’t function properly and he was slowly losing that remaining piece of sanity that he managed to salvage. He fled Manberg the moment he saw explosions coming from the country, taking himself and Schlatt’s corpse far away from it and finding a peaceful little area where he could bury him. Sure it was cliché, but [M/N] found a nice little spot on a hilltop where he would have a nice view of the sun rising and falling with each passing day; it was perfect. It was so hard for him to dig up a hole and put his body in it, he couldn’t stop the tears from falling down his face as he lowered his body into the grave, even more so when he had to bury him.

Sure, he was a good couple hundred blocks away from the new L’Manberg now run by Tubbo, but the anguished cries he wailed at the top of his lungs could be heard from miles away. His claws dug deep into his skin to the point he started to bleed, he could care less, he really didn’t care about himself at that moment and allowed himself to wallow up in his anger and sadness. Now the only thing he had left of Schlatt was the ring, he always kept on him as a necklace, never to admit that he left it there so it would always be close to his heart. He raised his hand and held onto it tightly before turning and facing the direction where the sun was slowly beginning to descend as the night took over the day, he took a shallow breath as he leaned his head back to rest against the tombstone.

The next couple of days, or weeks, it followed with [M/N] animalistic instincts beginning to overwhelm his human consciousness. Another reason as to why he stayed in his human form more is because he had more control over his thoughts and instincts than when he’s constantly in his original wolf form, he was slowly becoming more and more like a wolf that he stopped looking after himself. If he were to see his reflection, he would most likely see his younger self staring right back at him. His hair had grown pass his shoulders and was matted from the lack of brushing and washing it, his bangs even grew to the point they shadowed his eyes. His nails grew out and were cracked, he was filthy to the point he could pollute a river or stream if he dared step into one and his hands to his forearms were constantly covered in blood.

Most of the time he spent staying at Schlatt’s grave because he really didn’t know what to do, the only time he ever left was because he was hungry, now this is where the blood comes into play. He was merciless with the way he hunted down animals, he didn’t spare them a chance as he lunged at them, digging his claws into their bodies to keep them from fleeing before eating them raw, tearing them apart before ripping into their skin to devour them. By the time his hunger was satisfied, he would have blood dripping down his mouth and some of it staining his fur, but he didn’t really care. Right now he was asleep huddled by his grave when he heard the sound of flapping wings, his ears flickered a bit as he raised his head and saw a crow was bouncing up and down in front of him.

...

...

*WHACK*

The crow let out a squawk when [M/N]’s tail smacked it when it got too close for comfort, he growled at it as a warning for it to back off but only when he started pushing himself up did it get the message and leave him be. He thought that would be the last time he saw that crow and let himself fall into slumber, but little did he know, the next day he would be swarmed by countless crows. They followed him everywhere he went and were constantly squawking in his ear, some even going so far as to grabbing him by certain parts of his body and fur to pull at him, one even nipped at his ear and pulled at it. [M/N] would try any means necessary to get rid of them but soon he grew to accept that these crows were not going to stop bothering him no matter how many times he threatened to eat them.

That was until--

“Who are you?” [M/N] had one of the crows perched on his forearm as he raised his head, and there he saw was seemed like a middle aged man with blonde hair that just rested above his shoulders while a single braid was seen on the side of his head. He wore a green jinbei, black haori, sandals, and green-and-white striped bucket hat that shadowed his blue eyes “I haven’t seen you around, so you must be new.” he muttered softly before growling at him not to get close, beginning to feel territorial.

“So you’re the one the crows have been hanging around?” [M/N] gave him a confused look but soon noticed that the crows that were always around him started surrounding the unknown man, squawking and cawing at him, the difference was that he noticed the blonde could actually understand what they were saying.

“HE’S THE LONELY PUP.”

“HE SMELLS.”

“OF COURSE HE DOES, HAVE YOU SEEN HIM SHOWER?”

“SOMETIMES HE CRIES.”

“BABY.”

“HE’S ALWAYS AROUND THIS GRAVE.”

”They’ve been keeping an eye on you, saying that you needed a friend.” he snickered when he noticed the wolfman grimace at the thought but couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit grateful that that was the reason as to why they were hanging around, he thought they stuck around because they thought he was corpse merely walking around.

“They’re lucky I haven’t eaten them yet.” he then sneers, standing up and towering over the man, who couldn’t help but swallow thickly at just how tall he was “Now what do you want? You have your birds, now get lost.” his eyes soon moved down to see the grave [M/N] was protecting, briefly seeing the name [JSchlatt] pop up in his view before looking up at him.

“You’re [M/N], aren’t you? The Devil’s Hound.” he sneered at him.

“Only one person called me that, and if you’re here to claim my head, I’ll make sure you regret it old man.” he warned, letting out a snarl as he bared his teeth and claws, showing him that he wasn’t playing around, to which the older man raised his hands to show him that he meant no harm as he took a step back.

“I promise, I’m not here to do anything.” [M/N] didn’t ease up at all, still on edge at the stranger.

“Then leave, I won’t ask you again.” the blonde hums softly, crossing his arms.

“That sounds more like a threat.” [M/N] chuckles rather menacingly, shaking his head before glaring at him.

“It’s a promise.” they continued to stare at each other, [M/N] growing even more agitated before the stranger raised his hands once more, letting out a defeated sigh as he took a step back.

“Alright, have it your way.” with that he turned around and started walking away, only stopping briefly to spare him one more glance “The name’s Philza, by the way, but everybody calls me Phil.” [M/N] only growled, narrowing his eyes on him before letting out a huff and walking away.

“Like I need to know.” he’ll forget his name anyways, knowing that he easily forgets the names of those who have the least impact on his life or if they have no value to him. That was until Philza kept visiting him at odd times of the day, whether it be sometime in the early morning or late nights, [M/N] didn’t understand why he kept coming back. Most of the time he would try and strike up a conversation with the feral wolf, which would end with him having a one sided conversation, but Philza didn’t miss the way [M/N]’s ears perked up in his direction, indicating that he was listening.

Philza wasn’t entirely sure why he was so interested in this lost puppy, maybe it was because of how he already managed to win the hearts of his crows who were usually very picky, or maybe it was because he reminded him of the days he met Technoblade. A lost and scared piglin hybrid who hated the world, who fought against the world until a new light was opened up to him when Philza came into the picture. He just wanted to help [M/N] because he already knew that his parental/fatherly instincts would come to bite him in the ass if he didn’t offer him a hand. Technoblade already told him enough that his father figure, Schlatt, died and that was his anchor from slipping over the edge, so he knew it was going to be a challenge to wriggle his way into the heart of this closed off wolfman.

“Why do you keep coming to visit me, Philza? Don’t you find me slightly disturbing?” [M/N] murmured to himself, gesturing to the fact that he quite literally hasn’t bathed himself in god knows how long now, he was surprised his crows still hung around despite the foul smell coming from him.

“You look lonely.” was all he answered, noticing how he flinched at that before burying his face deeper into his arms. He was in his wolf form and he was curled up on top of Schlatt’s grave, he was in this form because it made laying down more comfortable and it made him more bearable to be around. Philza managed to ease some of the tension off his shoulders by the constant visits, each time bringing a sort of gift (which was mostly food) to reassure him that he meant no harm “I know what constantly loneliness feels like.” he huffs.

“Right.” he raises his head and looks up at where Philza was sitting, watching as he stared up at the passing clouds with some sort of longing look. He remembered the first time he saw Philza’s damaged wing, managing to get a sneak peak from under his cloak and saw that it was beyond any repair and that he was incapable of flying ever again, how tragic “You’ve mentioned you’ve been staying in new L’Manberg, right?”

“Yes.” 

“... can I ask why? I’ve already mentioned that you’re new, mostly because I’ve seen most of the residents of this server during the war between Manberg and Pogtopia, but I never saw you.” he then noticed the way Philza became silent, it usually be the other way around, but he must have stepped onto some boundaries... dammit.

“Wilbur,” [M/N] snarled at the mention of that bastard, he wonders what he was up to nowadays “he was my son.” at the announcement, [M/N]’s eyes widened in shock and a growl erupted out of his throat, he was going to shout but paused at what he said.

“Was?” he nods, he takes a breath as he let his head hang back, [M/N] now noticed the single stray tear that ran down his face.

“By the time I arrived, I tried to stop Wilbur from blowing up his country but ultimately, I was too late.” so that explained the explosions he saw and heard on that day, but that still didn’t expla-- “Wilbur was so far gone into his madness that he... pleaded for me to kill him.”

“Ah... I see.” they both sat in silence until [M/N] let out a bitter laugh, Philza looked at him and saw he had a similar expression on his face “I lost a father figure while you lost your son, a poor way for the two of us to relate to something, huh?” Philza stared at him before bursting out into laughter, sure it was a poor way for [M/N] to make light of the situation, but at least he tried instead of remaining silent.

“I guess so.” the two sat together now but this time, [M/N] had actually gotten up and sauntered over to him, Philza was going to question what he was doing but stopped when [M/N] curled up behind him, letting the older man rest his body against his own. Sure he hated Wilbur’s guts with a passion, but he genuinely liked Philza, so the least he can do is swallow his pride and comfort him “Who knew you could be such a softy.” he laughed when his comment earned him a smack by his tail.

“Watch it, old man. You’re just bearable.” 

The next few days was more light hearted, it took a couple weeks but Philza finally managed to get the wolfman to open up where he was able to touch him without the other snarling at him. [M/N] was a very large man and he packed a lot of muscle and weight, so imagine his surprise when Philza had little to no effort in picking him up and dropping him into a lake. The birdman was quite thankful that the other didn’t fight him as he helped bathe him, discarding his hat and cloak while rolling his sleeves and pants up so he could wash his matted fur/hair. By the time he was finished, he used his wings to help him dry faster because letting out a laugh when the other poofed up, [M/N] deadpanned at him but snickered softly, because it was quite hilarious.

It was when Philza pulled out a pair of scissors did [M/N] start to panic, his hair was unkempt and hard to brush through but when he managed to untangle the knots he whipped out the scissors and cut his hair to a manageable length. His ears would flicker back and worth when they got a little too close but he was able to bear with it, he left cutting his nails to himself because he still wanted them to be pretty long. Philza gave him some clothes and that completed his look, he let out a tired sigh as he pulled out a mirror and there [M/N] gave him a sheepish look at his makeover.

“You really didn’t have to do this, Phil.” the blonde gave him a smile, quite happy that he was calling him Phil instead of Philza.

“Oh no, mate, you needed it badly.” [M/N] pulled a face as he pushed the mirror away, twirling a standing of his hair around his finger and gave him an apologetic look.

“Right, apologies about that.” the other only waved his hand, dismissing it.

“You know... I have no idea what you’re going through, knowing that you’ve been with Schlatt since you were a mere child, along with the fact that he was the one that brought you out of the life of poverty, but,” Philza reached forward and placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze “would he want you to continue living like this? Disregarding your own health and life, just to stay by his side?” [M/N] let out a tired sigh.

“Easy for you to say. Move on, get a life... but I never thought that far ahead. I never had my own mindset, maybe it’s the animal genetics pumping through my DNA that the only thing that was going through my head was to obey him. I never questioned him and I was loyal to him to the very end, and now that he’s gone... I don’t know what to do. He told me to live my own life, but I don’t know the first thing I can do. I don’t know how to live a life beside someone else’s.” the way [M/N] looked up at Philza was genuine confusion, he gave him a sad look before standing up, he goes to question him but froze when he offered his hand to him.

“How’s about I give you that little extra push?” as he stared up at him, a flash of the time when he was a sickly child in that alleyway came to his mind, seeing the reminiscence of Schlatt in Philza’s place as he spoke “Come with me, and I promise you, I’ll show you a path to your future.” though they spoke the same lines, Philza said something different, instead of saying that he’ll be of use to him, he said he could show him a path to his own future.

“W-Will...” he stuttered out, rarely he ever felt nervous, but right now, he couldn’t help but feel like that scared little pup that shivered at the at the sound of loud noises again. Philza noticed [M/N]’s hesitance, the way one of his hands held onto the ring around his neck with a death grip while his other was holding his wrist with the same level of strength “Will I be betraying his loyalty by going with someone else?” he whimpered out, Philza let out a soft chuckle as he shook his head.

“Not at all, I think he would appreciate it if someone else were to help guide you down a path that doesn’t destroy you.” Philza grits his teeth, his own chest tightening up a bit “I wasn’t able to save my son from his insanity, but the least I can do is help someone else from plummeting down that same void.” [M/N] glanced up at him then down at the hand that was still gesturing for him to take it, the hand that was holding his wrist loosened and slowly reached for it, inching back and forward as he still hesitated.

’I have to admire him for his unwavering loyalty towards Schlatt, it’s downright ridiculous to the point he would rather stay by his grave till the day he dies than live a life of his own.’ he felt a glimmer of hope when his hand was almost within reach ’Sure, he and Wilbur didn’t see eye to eye, but I want to help save this boy before it’s too late.’

“I-I--” he swallowed thickly, screwing his eyes closed before taking a deep breath and grabbing his hand “Okay... I trust you, Phil.” Philza let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in once [M/N] finally took his hand, he lifts him to his feet and pats his arm while looking up at him.

“Good, good! I’m glad you do, [M/N]. I know that this is a big step for you, so I appreciate that you trust me this much despite everything you’ve been through.” he chuckled softly when he noticed the younger boy was fidgeting a little, he then tugs him forward gently “Now, let’s go home and--”

“No! Not L’Manberg!” Philza was taken aback when he shouted, he then let out a soft sigh.

“I apologize, returning back to L’Manberg would probably give you bad memories, right?” he pulled a face before shaking his head.

“Not really, it’s just that I’m pretty sure Tubbo will kill me on sight.” he then raises his hand and gently caresses the now healed burn scars “I was the one to kill him during the Festival under Schlatt’s orders, then during the war, he was the to get his revenge on me and gave me these. Pretty gnarly, huh?” the blonde stared at them before shaking his head.

“Sure.” he then pinches his chin “But where do I...” he looked up in thought before a destination came to mind, he glanced at [M/N] and his ears perked up in curiosity at the look Philza was giving him, he lets out a soft whine as he tilts his head to the side.

“What?”

[snow biome]

“No. No, no, no. Absolutely not. Not happening. No.” [M/N] awkwardly stood behind Philza as they rocked up to a snow biome, out in the middle of nowhere, where Technoblade has set up his retirement home and gone into hiding. The blonde had explained to him that there was a place he knew that was far away from L’Manberg where barely anyone knew of its location, but he never mentioned who the only resident was until they arrived at his front doorstep and the piglin hybrid opened to door, at first happy to see his old time friend but grimaced when he noticed who was behind “Why the hell is he here? Why the hell did you bring him here?”

“To make things brief, he needs a place to stay.” this caused both taller men to look down at him in disbelief, Technoblade was the first to react by grabbing his shoulders before thrashing him back and forward.

“No way! There’s no chance I want this guy living under the same roof as me! For all we know, he could kill me in my sleep.” [M/N] narrowed his eyes on the pink haired male.

“Truthfully, I have nothing against you. It’s Wilbur, Tommy and Quackity I loathe. Killing you won’t bring me satisfaction, but I can’t help but agree with him, but for a completely different reason. This house looks rather small and if you hadn’t noticed, we’re both burly men, I highly doubt it’ll be able to fit us both.” Technoblade nods his head, throwing his arm out towards him.

“Exactly. I want my own personal space, and I’m not really up for dog fur getting everywhere.” [M/N] lets out a grunt, clicking his tongue as he gave the piglin an irritated look.

“What about you? You say you’re worried about me killing you in your sleep, but I hear you have hundreds of voices in your head that demand blood. I feel like my life is the one at stake by being in close proximity to you.” Philza sweat dropped when he was in between the two muscular men who were glaring deeply at each other, a spark of lightning erupting between them.

“Please, you two, calm yourselves.” he sighs as he turns towards [M/N], he places a hand on his chest and this caused the wolfman to break eye contact with Technoblade to look down at him, his gaze softening a little “Could you please give me a couple minutes alone to talk with Techno, mate. Just stay in the area, please.” [M/N] had a look of hesitance before nodding his head.

“Alright.” with that he turned around and stood out in the snow, the cold didn’t bother him in any way, he was in his half human/half wolf form and most of his fur covered any exposed areas and kept him quite warm. Philza nodded his head as he watched [M/N] watch the snow fall from the sky before turning his attention back at Technoblade, who made a look of disgust as he watched [M/N].

“I’m telling you Techno, he’s quite harmless right now.”

“Around you, that is. Who knows how long he’ll last around me before he snaps and pummels me into the ground.” the other gave him a smug look.

“So you’re saying he can pummel you?” Technoblade glares at him.

“You know what I mean.” he lets out a frustrated growl when Philza chuckled, he looked back at [M/N] and saw that he raised his head as he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as his arms were raised slightly to let the fallen snowflakes land in the palm of his hand.

“The reason I brought him here is because he has nowhere to go. He can’t come with me to L’Manberg because the others would surely kill him if he dared take a step on their lands, and Schlatt was his only family.” he inhales through his nose, eyes looking up at him “He reminded me of you when I first found you all those years ago.” now this caused Technoblade to freeze, he looked down at Philza and saw that he was being honest, this caused him to let out a groan as he crossed his arms.

“You’re guilt tripping me, Phil.” 

“That may be so, but I couldn’t just leave him where he was. He looked horrible and was in need of desperate help.” Technoblade felt his tense shoulders slump at what he said, slowly beginning to fall for his words, he took one final glance at [M/N] and saw he had a soft grin on his face, eyes beginning to open as a snowflake landed on his nose.

“... dammit.” Philza smirked, knowing that he managed to win him over “Fine, alright, I’ll let him stay! But, he has to make his own house somewhere on the property! He’s not staying in my house, that’s my own safe haven.”

“Got it.” Philza grins as he brings his middle finger and thumb to his lips before blowing on them, letting out a sharp whistle that caused [M/N]’s ears to flick up, he turned to face them and saw Philza waving him over. [M/N] tripped over when his feet had got buried pretty deep in the snow, he face planted into the snow but let out a soft laugh as he pushed himself up and jogged over to them, when he stood behind Philza once more he flicked the snow off his body “Technoblade has agreed to let you stay.”

“Eh, really?” even he couldn’t help but be surprised that the Blood God agreed, Technoblade was probably just as equally as surprised as him, probably even more so “Then... I appreciate it.” the piglin merely huffed, waving his hand to dismiss his gratitude.

“Don’t mention it.” Philza clapped his hands his hands with a smile.

“Wonderful. I hope you two can get along without you needing to rip each other’s throats out.” this caused the both of them to flinch “I believe it’s getting late, so before you kick him out, at least let him spend one night in your house before letting him build his own house.” Technoblade goes to protest but held his tongue when he saw the look Philza was giving him.

“Okay.” [M/N] now stood in the middle of Technoblade’s living space rather awkwardly, he was holding his arms as his tail was tucked between his legs, ears pressed to his head as Technoblade and Philza busied themselves. His gaze fell upon the polar bear sitting in front of the fire place, it tiredly raised its head when it felt a gaze upon it and saw that it was merely [M/N] staring at him. The bear let out a soft growl before letting his head fall back onto the ground and falling asleep once more, his ears flickered a bit at that before his own attention drew towards the trap door window “You’re practically leaving me on babysitting duty, aren’t you Phil?” said man let out a laugh. 

“That is slightly true. What I really want is for you to keep a close eye on him.”

“You just said exactly what I said but with different words.” Philza rolls his eyes.

“You’re being overdramatic, Techno.” he shakes his head.

“No. If you were there to see what exactly this guy is capable of, you’d be as reluctant as I am. You only saw the aftermath.” they enter the room they left [M/N] was and saw that he was leaning against the windowsill, his arms resting on the edge while his head laid comfortable on his arms. His ears were flickering every so often as his tail thumped against the floorboards, and yet his gaze was so fixated on the snowflakes falling from the sky he hadn’t even picked up on the fact that he and the polar bear weren’t the only ones in the room anymore.

“You seem to like snow quite a bit, mate.” Philza hummed softly, pulling out a stool so he could sit beside him, who never tore his gaze out from the window.

“This is the first time I’ve seen it.” this caught them both by surprise “Schlatt wasn’t too keen on cold weather so we stirred away from snow biomes and stayed within relatively humid biomes. This is genuinely the first time I’ve seen snow, so I find it quite enjoyable to be honest.” they watch in silence as he pushed the trap door open and extend his hand out, letting out a cheerful yip when a snowflake landed onto the palm of his hand and melted into water. The way [M/N] was behaving right now reminded Philza of a child, because [M/N] was experiencing things without a leash on for the very first time.

[the next day]

Technoblade was kind enough to lend [M/N] some materials and tools, which was actually Philza telling Techoblade to lend him the needed equipment, and the entire day was spent with [M/N] making his home. The piglin hybrid half expected him to make a house near his but was completely mistaken when he saw [M/N] start mining away at the side of the mountain to make himself a house in a cave. True to Schlatt’s words during the preparations for the Manberg Festival, [M/N] was god awful at designing. He had wonderful ideas, but he didn’t have the abilities to apply them to his builds and so he had to have the aid of the other two to make his home look somewhat decent. The finished build was the opening of a cave that had enough illumination to keep wandering mobs from entering his cave, the main room was filled with various chests, barrels and anything else useful, there were various other tunnels that connected to that room that served different purposes. Some were for blacksmithing and enchanting, others were for brewing or just his sleeping chambers.

“I think we did a job well done.” Philza said, hands on his hips as he looked at the entrance to the cave, Technoblade let out a huff as he dusted his shoulder to rid of the pebbles that landed on him whilst they were mining.

“I’m just glad he’s finally out of my hair.” [M/N] scoffed.

“What hair? All I see is fur.” before Technoblade could fire anything back, Philza got in between them both and flared his wings open to create some distance between them both.

“Don’t start.” the piglin gave the immortal being an offended look as he accusingly gestured to the wolfman, who only rolled his eyes while crossing his arms and looking away.

“He started it!” 

“Technically, you did.” this caused him to let out a gasp that Philza didn’t side with him, before he could say anything else, the blonde then turned to look up at [M/N], who flinched at the stern look on his face “And you, don’t antagonize people.” [M/N] lets out a soft whine.

“But what if they start it?”

“Are you not going to let this go?”

“I like to mock people. If they mock me, I should have every right to mock them back.” he grins softly “That’s what Schlatt taught me, and if they go too far, I hit them where it hurts.”

“Physically, or metaphorically?”

“Depends on the person, really.” Technoblade snaps his fingers at that.

“I agree with that.” Philza rolls his eyes, after that day of work, they decided upon the three of them to gather some food to finish that day off. Technoblade and Philza adorn winter outfits to survive out in the winter cold, staring rather enviously that [M/N] only wore a thin layer of clothing for his layers of fur protected him from the snow and he trudged through without any hesitation in his movements. The two led mostly because the wolfman was still unfamiliar with his surroundings and the environment he was in, though they did pay attention to the way he reacted to small sounds and whatnot “So what are we looking to eat tonight?” Technoblade asked, bouncing his axe on his shoulder as they continued to venture deeper and deeper into the woods.

“Whatever we lay eyes upon fir—“ Philza was cut off when he heard a growl, they both turn to face [M/N], only to be pushed aside when he lunged forward and past them. They turn to see what he pounced on, only to freeze when they saw he tackled and sunk his teeth into the neck of a wandering pig. They were even more disturbed, maybe disgusted, when they saw him rip its throat out before devouring it without a second thought. The latter noticed the silence so he raised his head, chin dripping with blood as he continued to chew on the raw flesh of the pig that was whining, practically begging to be put out of its misery, it was a miracle that it was still alive.

“What?” he questioned rather absentmindedly, Technoblade grimaced when he noticed the way he licked his lips.

“Do you mind?” he muttered as he gestured to the poor pig, [M/N] glanced down at it before looking up at him once more.

“What? This your cousin or something?” an irk mark appeared on his forehead, he goes to say something but was pushed to the side when Philza shoved his arm, he goes quiet and so [M/N] watches as Philza approached him, crouching down and gently wiping away the blood that he could with his sleeve.

“Don’t tease him, [M/N].” the blonde snorted when he noticed that the other wore an expression that said he was serious “I understand that the hybrid in you makes you do things like this, and you’ve been living like this for who knows how long, but we can’t help but question you and be mildly disgusted.” he sniffed, wiping away the rest of the blood on his own with his arm.

“You could just look way. I like eating it this way.” he sighs.

“Sure, but it’s not good for your stomach.” the dog in him caused his ears to press against his head, his tail thumping against the snowy ground as a whine rips through his throat, he then slowly nods his head.

“Alright.” he flinched softly when Philza placed his hand on top of his head.

“Good boy.” he ruffles his head before standing up and turning away, he missed his reaction but Technoblade saw and scoffed, [M/N] was blushing softly as he pressed a hand to the spot where Philza ruffled, pressing his lips into a thin line before standing to his feet and following after the older man, not before putting the pig out of its misery… and perhaps finishing his short snack before catching up to them. True to Schlatt’s word, [M/N] was an excellent hunter and managed to find a months worth of food for them, much to their pleasure so now they won’t have to worry about food for that time period. 

“We should probably head back now, it’s starting to get dark.” Philza nodded his head, he let out an oh when [M/N] leaned down so he was hovering off his shoulder.

“Will you return to L’Manburg, or will you remain here one more night? It’s rather dangerous for you to venture back now that the sun is setting, mobs will be out and the distance between that country and here is quite far.” Technoblade nodded his head.

“He’s right, and neither of us can get particularly close before becoming target practice.” they both grimace at that, hearing the concern coming from them both had the older man chuckling before nodding his head.

“Well, alright. I’ll stay one more night then leave in the morning, how does that sound?” he laughs when he saw the looks of satisfaction on their faces, it didn’t take long for them to return to Technoblade’s home, [M/N] was going to return to his own little cave but was stopped by the older man to have him join them for dinner. The blonde snorted when he noticed him freeze up in confusion, so with a sigh, he grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the warmth of the house and together the three of them had a nice meal. 

[a few weeks later]

“[M/N], stop trying to eat the goddamn livestock, please.” said man was mid bite away from chomping a sheep’s head off before pausing in his actions at the sound of Technoblade’s voice, he jaw slowly snapped shot away from the sheep’s head and he looked down at it. Its wool was dyed blue and those beady little eyes were staring up at him, he let out a sigh as he rolled his eyes before flinching when it licked his nose. He sneezed at the action before looking down at it once more and heard it let out a bleep, he pursed his lips before setting it down on the ground and turning away, unaware that it was following him “Now that you’re here, I have a favor to ask of you.” the latter huffed.

“That’s a first.” he comments, he glances away when Technoblade turned and gave him a sharp glare.

“Right.” Technoblade threads his hooves through his fur before looking at him “I need you to go to the Nether for me?” [M/N] raises a brow at the request.

“The Nether? Why me? You’re more suited for the Nether than I am.” he waves his hand to dismiss him.

“Just listen to me, okay? You’re much faster when it comes to getting the job done, so I need you to get a couple Blaze Rods and Wether Skulls for me. If you do that for me, we can spar again.” this certainly got his attention, sparring together was their entertainment and their way to pass the time. As he said, [M/N] was more confident when it came down to hand to hand combat while Technoblade was more versed with weapons, but to make sure that neither side would hurt each other too bad, Technoblade would fight with wooden weapons while [M/N] wore gloves to soften his punches.

“Hmm... I don’t think that’s enough to get me to go to the hot blistering Nether.” he snickers when it got the other to growl, [M/N] was becoming more and more snarkier as time went by as well and it was annoying.

“I’ll be on chore duty for a month.” [M/N] snapped his fingers.

“Pleasure doing business with you.” sure this was Technoblade’s property, but [M/N] did his fair share of work since he was a resident upon his land. He had no problem doing any work to be allowed to stay there, but sometimes he found it downright ridiculous that he had to help Technoblade clean his own house and feed his animals... they were his! Why did he have to help? 

“You’re insufferable.”

“You can just go get it yourself, you fuck.” [M/N] didn’t even let out him finish when he sauntered off to go gather his things from his cave then left to the Nether to get what Technoblade wants, maybe get a few extra things as well because he could. The piglin lets out a sigh as he returns to his home, not even a couple minutes past and he heard a knock on the door... that was rather quick. He was fast, but that was a little too fast, he approaches the door with caution and opened it, only to see someone he wasn’t expecting.

“Ghostbur, what are you doing here?” Technoblade asked, opening his door and expecting to see [M/N] returning from his hunt in the Nether with the needed items he asked for, only to get the ghost of the former President in his place. Technoblade never mentioned to [M/N] about Ghostbur, he didn’t know how the guy was going to react upon seeing Wilbur’s dead counterpart, he still had a grudge upon him, Tommy, Quackity and Dream. Through Philza, his anger was slowly settling down and he was working on his temper that he developed, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

“O-Oh, I was in the neighbourhood and thought I could drop by.” he answered cheerfully, stepping into Technoblade’s house with a bright smile on his face. The piglin let out a sigh before closing the door and following close behind him, the ghost settled by the fire, trying to warm his deathly cold body as he turned to look up at Technoblade “What have you been up to lately, Techno?” he huffs, taking a seat on one of the couches.

“I’ve been left of babysitting duty.” seeing the way Ghostbur lit up almost brought a smile to his face, almost.

“Baby? There’s a baby? Where?” he shook his head.

“Metaphorically, Ghostbur. There’s not an actual baby.” Ghostbur deflates.

“Oh, pity. Then, what have you been babysitting?”

“A puppy.” Ghostbur lights up again and goes to ask where the puppy was “I am being metaphoric again. Don’t take everything I say serious.” this caused him to pout, raising a hand to rub the back of his head.

“I wanna see a puppy.” talking with Ghostbur was a nice change of pace, the forgetful ghost would bring up random topics in hope that it would pique the latters interest, and though most of the time he was speaking and Technoblade would answer with halfhearted or single word answers, he was most definitely listening. Conversations between [M/N] and himself were set upon who can make the first one angry with no ill intent, conversations between Philza and himself were light hearted or spoken about upcoming events and whatnot “Ah, I nearly forgot something important!” he cheers, raising a finger.

“You forgot nearly everything.” he giggles softly.

“Did you hear about what happened to Tommy?” this caught his attention as he raised a brow.

“Tommy?” the sudden voice startled him, he turned around and saw [M/N] standing right behind him smell like the Nether, his gaze immediately snapped over to where Ghostbur was sitting and a panicked expression made its way to his face.

’Shit! How long were we talking for? I didn’t even realize [M/N] was back.’ he looked up and saw [M/N] turned his attention to where Ghostbur was sitting ’No, is he going to kill him? Oh, fuck!’ he held his breath as he watched [M/N] approach the ghost but was surprised to see the happy look of Ghostbur’s face as [M/N] knelt down slightly to place a hand on his head. 

“Hello Ghostbur, it’s been awhile.” the other let out a giggle, nuzzling into his clawed hand “How have you been?” Ghostbur takes his hand and lowers it down, rubbing his thumbs onto the top of his hand.

“I’ve been good, Phil has been taking care me.” he nods his head.

“That’s good.” Technoblade was a little speechless to see that [M/N] was having a calm conversation with the ghost, he wasn’t snarling or glaring at him or making and snide remarks, he was having a peaceful conversation.

“[M/N],” he starts, making the wolfman look over at him “you know Ghostbur?” he lets out a scoff.

“I’ve been hanging around Phil, I was bound to run into this ghost sooner or later since he’s by his side nearly 24/7.” he slowly nods his head at the information.

“And... you don’t hate him.” now this caused [M/N] to pause briefly, Ghostbur looked between the two.

“Ghostbur... doesn’t remember who I am from when Wilbur was around, and sure I can’t stand the sight of him... but it’s Wilbur that I hate, not Ghostbur. Ghostbur is a completely different person to his counterpart.” he wasn’t going to tell Technoblade that the first thing he did when he saw Ghostbur was that he wanted to rip his throat out; that he wanted to watch the way his head was crushed within his claws. That was the thought that goes on in his head every time Ghostbur grabbed his hands, for some reason, he was so fixated on his hands.

“[M/N] and I are friends, Techno!” the latter nods his head.

“Right.” [M/N] gently takes his hand back from Ghostbur, much to his dismay, and hands Technoblade and Ender Chest full of the items he wanted “I went a little overboard so there are a lot more in there than what you needed, Techno.”

“Better more than less.” he nods before turning back to Ghostbur.

“Now, what’s this about Tommy?” Ghostbur claps his hands.

“Right.” he raises a finger “Did you know that he was exiled from L’Manburg?” this caused them both to fall silent.

...

...

“Pft, hahaha!” Ghostbur was taken aback when [M/N] burst out into laughter, it was so bad that he hunched forward while holding stomach. It was rare for [M/N] to laugh like this, but he couldn’t help but laugh “Oh my god, he’s what? Exiled? Again! Wow, what a riot! This is one of the best sets of news I’ve heard in a long time!” even Technoblade was amused.

“What did he do this time?”

“U-Um, I think he burnt down George’s house.” he snorts.

“Wow, who’s idea was it to exile Tommy?”

“Tubbo.” at that, Technoblade and [M/N] look at each other in confusion, the latter looks down before chuckling to himself. 

“Tubbo did, huh? How amusing.”

Later that day.

“Another errand?” [M/N] muttered, he laid comfortably in his den when Technoblade rudely came in, bringing snow in while he was at it.

“I need you to deliver something to Phil.” this caused [M/N] to push himself up from where he was laying, staring up at Technoblade in shock before standing to his feet.

“What are you-- are you serious right now? I can’t just waltz into L’Manburg! Why can’t you give it to Ghostbur?” he exclaims, to which the ghost makes his appearance by poking his head out from behind Technoblade before rushing forward and burying his face into the warmth of [M/N]’s fur, causing him to deadpan.

“Not that I don’t trust Ghostbur, to which I don’t,” this made him let out a whine “I want you to do it because I know you can do it right.”

...

...

“You just don’t want to do it.” he threw his head back with a groan “Goddammit, just give it to Ghostbur, for fuck sakes.”

“I’m afraid he’ll lose it.”

“I won’t.” they both glance at him, he let out another whine as he deflates “I probably will.” [M/N] slaps a hand onto his forehead and looks at Technoblade, noticing that he still wasn’t really up to the task of going to L’Manburg himself just to deliver something.

“How about we draw straws?” he suggests, he scoops Ghostbur up by his armpits to pull him off his body and sets him away so he could find a couple straws of hay, when he returns he opens Ghostbur’s hand and has him hold them “Whoever draws the short straw goes without question, okay?” he nods.

“Okay.” they both grab a straw before yanking it out of Ghostbur’s hand.

And that brings us too;

“I complained, and yet I still lost.” he grumbles to himself, hands in his pocket as he followed Ghostbur. In the end, [M/N] drew the short straw and cried when he lost, to which Technoblade pumped his fist in triumph and mocked [M/N] for his loss, to which the latter mocked him for that fact that he was on chore duty for the next month. That shut him up.

“Oh, we’re going to have so much fun, [M/N]! You haven’t been to L’Manburg in a long time, right? So you haven’t seen the renovations done to the place. I’ll show you around after we deliver the thing Techno wants us to deliver to Phil, okay?” [M/N] so badly wanted to deny the offer but the puppy dog eyes Ghostbur was giving him was so goddamn convincing.

“Sure...” he lets out a sigh as he turned away, ignoring the way Ghostbur cheers as he jogged ahead of them. L’Manburg was just ahead of them so the smaller one of the two charged forward and when he turned around he noticed that the other was still hesitating to step foot onto L’Manburg soil, he noticed him hug himself as he looked around in caution, his eyes scanning the area while his ears darted in every direction.

“Hey,” he whipped his head over to Ghostbur and slowly started to calm down when he reached forward and took his hand into his much smaller ones “you’ll be alright. I’ll make sure nothing bad happens to you. I promise!” [M/N] stared down at him, not even easing up for a second, he took a deep breath as his hand slowly closed around his as he nodded his head.

“Alright, I trust you.” Ghostbur beams up at him before tugging him forward, Ghostbur made sure to lead [M/N] in the none public areas so no one would catch sight of him. I mean, he was in his half human/half wolf form so it made him an easy target, but it was the thought that counts. [M/N] still hadn’t dropped his guard, looking around in alarm as his hold on Ghostbur’s hand tightened, not noticing the slight flush rising to his grey cheeks at the action.

“Ghostbur?” an unknown voice rose to [M/N]’s ears, this meant they were a threat, he didn’t react yet but his eyes moved and there he saw an 8″5ft Enderman hybrid. He wore a black suit with a red tie around his neck and a golden crown on top his head, his most distinguished features were the fact that his body and hair was black and white, the right side being black and the left side being white, even his eyes were dual colored, one being green and the other red “What are you doing here? And who’s that?” 

“Ranboo! Hello.” the happy ghost greeted, slipping his hand free from [M/N] as he approached the young man. Sure, Ranboo was taller than the other male, but he had more muscle to his body and could easily body him if need be, and the way he was lowering his body as he stared him up and down, he couldn’t help but feel intimidated “I’m here to show my friend around.” Ghostbur added, rocking back and forth on his feet.

“Friend?” he questioned, to which the other nodded his head as he gestured to [M/N], who had an indifferent expression on his face, not dropping his defensive stance, not even for a second “I don’t think your friend likes me.” at the mention of that, Ghostbur turns towards him and noticed that he never broke eye contact with Ranboo, he huffs with a pout before marching over and smacking his arm, causing him to break his concentration and looked down in shock.

“[M/N], I don’t appreciate you glaring at my other friends.” he then looks back at Ranboo, an apologetic look on his face “Forgive him, he doesn’t particularly like strangers... or meeting new people, to be exact.” Ranboo gave a nervous laugh in response to that.

“N-No, it’s fine.” he answers, rubbing the back of his neck. With a stern glare from Ghostbur, [M/N] lets out a sigh as he dropped his defensive stance and stood up straight but not once did he drop his guard, crossing his arms and making sure that Ranboo kept his distance from them “Where are you heading to?”

“We’re off to see Phil! We have something to give him.” Ranboo nods.

“Is it blue?” he shook his head.

“No, actually, Tec--” before he could finish his sentence, [M/N] silenced him by reaching forward and pressing his hand to his mouth, his other wrapped around his body as he pulled him back against his chest.

“Shush, Ghostbur. He doesn’t want anyone else to know, just the four of us, mmkay? Our little secret.” [M/N] felt him purse his lips before nodding his head, looking up at him as he slowly loosened his grip on his body.

“Okay!” he nods his head before letting him go completely, he gave Ranboo a stern look before taking Ghostbur’s hand and together the two of them left the young man alone, he watched them disappear before he turned and fled to report what he saw to his superiors “And here we are!” they made it to the residential areas and [M/N] was honestly impressed with what he’s seen so far.

“I like what he’s done with the place; feels homey.” he comments, Ghostbur nods, a slight blue flush to his cheeks.

“Mm hmm!” [M/N] gave him one of those rare smiles, allowing him to lead him to which house belonged to, only to stop when they hear another voice, but this voice made all sorts of alarms ring in his head.

“Stop!” they both turned to see and there they saw Tubbo, Fundy, Quackity with Ranboo standing behind them with a nervous look on his face. [M/N] grits his teeth but kept his temper under control, it helped when Ghostbur got in front of him when he noticed the tension rising between them and put on a happy smile.

“Tubbo! Hello, what brings you here?” 

“Ranboo told us that a suspicious person was wandering around L’Manburg with Ghostbur, but to think that it was you, [M/N].” the man didn’t answer the child, he simply narrowed his eyes on him as he growled lowly “You aren’t welcome here.” he scoffed.

“I don’t want to be here, but I’m here on an errand. I’ll be out of your hair once I’m done.”

“And what business is it that you have to be here?” [M/N] scoffs.

“It’s none of yours, for your information.” Fundy takes a step forward.

“He is the President of L’Manburg.” [M/N] scoffs again, narrowing his eyes down at the fox.

“And what does that have to do with anything, fox? Is it his business to butt into confidential and personal affairs? I believe not, so don’t bother me while I’m being nice.” he threatens, now it was Quackity that took a step forward.

“How is that being nice?”

“If I wasn’t being nice, little duckling, your face would be in the ground right now, but now I’m restraining myself from committing murder.” hearing that, Ghostbur turned around and grabbed him by his arm.

“Calm yourself, [M/N], here! Have some blue.” he says, reaching down to take some blue dye out of his pocket and handing it to the wolfman, he couldn’t help but hum softly at his attempt to calm his anger, but he did appreciate it as he took the dye from him “Is it working? Are you happy?”

“Yes, Ghostbur, it’s working.” [M/N] watched the dye slip through his fingers and dye the fur on his hands blue, that was going to be a hassle to get out, Ghostbur soon turns back to look at the four who approached them.

“We haven’t done anything wrong, I don’t see the problem here.” Quackity scoffed.

“So you don’t even remember what he has done to you back when you were alive, Wilbur.” [M/N]’s ears perked up at what Quackity called him, he looked down at Ghostbur and noticed he flinched, his hand twitching a little as he muttered “it’s Ghostbur” under his breath “He’s the whole reason why you and Tommy were kicked out of your own country! We went to war against him and that tyrant he called a father, and yet here you are being buddy buddy with him! If you were alive, you’d be disgusted by your actions.”

“B-But that was in the past-- and with Wilbur, not me. I’m not Wilbur, I’m Ghostbur.” [M/N] nods as he leans down, reaching for his hand and placing the blue dye back in his hand.

“That you are, Ghosty.” he whispered softly, raising his hand to wipe away the tears threatening to spill “There’s no need to shed any tears, everything’s fine.” he slowly nods his head, his hand squeezing around the blue.

“Mmkay.” the other three couldn’t help but stare in disbelief, maybe envy. Not once have they ever seen [M/N] behave like that to anyone beside Schlatt, there was the rare time when he was kind towards Tubbo and Quackity, but those were one off things and he didn’t really care about them. He had those eyes that were devoid of emotions towards them, but here, they saw color swirling in his eyes as he stared down at the weeping ghost with concern.

It wasn’t fair.

“I don’t want you here, [M/N].” Tubbo states, this caused the two to glance over at the young boy “You’re... you’re a threat to L’Manburg and I’m afraid you’ve overstayed your visit.” what little confidence he had in him slowly drained out of his body the longer [M/N] stared at him, he snickered to himself as he took a step forward and pushed Ghostbur behind him.

“How amusing, boy.” he flicked his hand to rid of the blue dripping down his finger tips and the three across from them couldn’t help but imagine the blue dye be replaced with blood, the images of the war flashing in the back of their minds about how ruthless [M/N] was during that time “I haven’t even done anything, and you’re firing shots.” at the mention of that, Tubbo flinched and subconsciously gripped his arm, the same arm that was burnt and scarred badly when [M/N] shot him with the firework.

“Y-You--”

“While we’re on the topic, I have to mention Tubbo, your previous actions are reminding me an awful lot of Schlatt. It’s almost as if he never left.” he flinches again, he hangs his head low as [M/N] now stood over him, a wide smirk on his face as a shadow looms over him “Now don’t take that as an insult, coming from me of all people, it’s more like a compliment!” he closes his hands into a tight fist, his knuckles turning white with how hard he was holding them to the point his nails dug into the palms of his hands and they were bleeding. He chuckled darkly at the reaction he was receiving from the boy so he leaned down, his face now hovering a couple inches away from his before raising his blue stained hands and jabbing his finger into his chest “You chose a country over your best friend, how selfish.”

“N-No, I... I did it f-for the betterment of this country.” [M/N] only narrows his eyes on him.

“I don’t like Tommy, and I most certainly don’t like you, so I don’t particularly care about his fate. But if you truly were his friend, then you would at least visit him once. Ghostbur has told me that you hadn’t even seen him once.”

“I-I--”

“[M/N]!” he let out a yelp when he smacked in the back of the head, they look over and saw Philza had left his home to see what the fuss was about, only to see [M/N] and Ghostbur surrounded by Tubbo, Fundy, Quackity and Ranboo “What have I told you about antagonizing people?” he only pouts, taking a step back as he rubbed the back of his head.

“That I shouldn’t...”

“And what did you do?”

“Antagonized them. But they came onto us first, they even made Ghostbur cry, so I had to step in.” at the mention of that, Philza glanced back at his deceased son and noticed the tear tracks as he sniffled, he glanced up [M/N] before letting out a sigh and patting his head.

“I’ll let it slide this one time, okay? Good job.” [M/N] immediately perked up at the praise, his tail wagging side to side “Now get inside, Techno told me you were coming. I’ll handle this.”

“Okay.” Ghostbur takes his hand and rushes to where Philza’s house was, apologizing when he dragged [M/N] through the door and his face slammed face first above the door frame because he was too tall for it. He cradles his face in his hand before hunching down to fit through the door, Philza shook his head before turning and giving the group a stern glare.

“You dare cause trouble with those two?” Fundy couldn’t help but glare up at his grandfather.

“You weren’t there, Phil, you don’t understand what he put us through all because of his damn loyalty towards Schlatt! He’s a problem that needs to be dealt with!” Philza’s glare doesn’t waver as he stares them down.

“He hasn’t done anything wrong, you have no right to call him out on anything when he has done absolutely nothing to be called out for. Tell me, what has he done that you unrightfully stopped him?” this caught them off guard and they glance at each other, he was right, he hasn’t done anything so they can’t exactly do anything regarding him “I understand you’re all angry with him for what he’s done in the past, but he has the same level of anger for you but maybe even higher, and yet he’s being the bigger man and controlling himself. If you saw him during the aftermath of the war, none of you would be standing where you are now.”

“...” Tubbo bit his lip as he looked up at Philza, who wore nothing more but a cold expression, he clicks his tongue as he turned on his heel and marched away “Fine, do what you want.” the other three watch in disbelief that Philza drove him away before chasing after him, the old man let out a breath before turning around himself and making his way back to his home, and there he saw [M/N] leaning against the arm chair that was placed in front of a fireplace with Ghostbur laying next to him rather contently, chattering about anything that came to mind.

’I heard from them and through Wilbur’s letters that the relationship between those two was like oil and water, it’s almost hard to believe now.’ he thinks to himself, remembering the first time when Ghostbur and [M/N] met, he could feel the wolfman’s bloodlust from where he was and was ready to completely obliterate him, but was stopped when he saw those eyes of innocence in Ghostbur’s eyes. Ever since then, Ghostbur clung to [M/N]’s side, much to his dismay but Philza knew that he secretly had a soft spot for the ghost ’To think those two would be so close now.’

”Ah, Phil! Welcome back.” Ghostbur greeted, hearing that, [M/N] turned his head and offered Philza a nod before resting his head on the arm chair once more.

“Dealing with them is always tiring, even more so with how cocky they’ve gotten.” Philza let out a huff, approaching them before taking a seat.

“Tell me about it, they’re pretty relentless nowadays.” [M/N] didn’t intend to stay as long as he did, he was planning on handing the thing Technoblade wanted to give him and would be off, but the company of the old man and ghost was rather comforting to the point he stayed there for a couple hours until the day turned into night. When he decided to leave, Philza offered for him to stay the night, but the former politely declined the offer because he was afraid that Tubbo and his lot would raid his house just to kick him out.

“That was rather refreshing.” [M/N] muttered softly, lacing his fingers while stretching them above his head and hearing them crack, he let out an oh when he felt arms wrap around his exposed torso so he glanced down and saw Ghostbur embrace him from behind “Hello, Ghosty.”

“You aren’t leaving yet, are you?” he hums softly, placing his hand on his head.

“That I am, Ghostbur. I’m not particularly welcome here.” Ghostbur pouts before removing himself, moving so he was in front of [M/N] to grab his arm and tug him forward.

“Don’t forgot that I was supposed to show you around.” [M/N] murmurs softly.

“Now? It’s late, and we might run into those four again.” he dismisses the thought.

“Tubbo knows not to miss with someone twice when Phil gets involved, and I know you won’t be coming back unless Techno needs you to do something for him again, and that’s something we won’t see unless it’s one of those rare days.” he tugs on his arm “I promise it won’t be boring.” [M/N] gives him a look before letting out a sigh and reluctantly nodding his head.

“Well... alright, but when I say I’m leaving, I’m leaving, got it?” Ghostbur lit up.

“Wonderful!” he cheered before dragging [M/N] behind him, who let out a grunt by the fact that he was being dragged around once more. [M/N] wasn’t interested in anything that L’Manburg had to offer, he could care less about the country that gave him nothing but bad memories, but the way Ghostbur’s eyes lit up as he explained certain monuments and who lived where, he couldn’t help but listen. There was bad blood between himself and Wilbur, if he ever go the chance to kill Wilbur, he would take it... but Ghostbur wasn’t Wilbur, and though that was a pity, he was quite grateful. Despite having the face of that deranged man, his heart was kind and soft. Ghostbur was in the middle of explaining something when he glanced up at [M/N], he flinched slightly when he noticed that [M/N] was staring at him “U-Um-- is there something on my face?” he asked, raising a hand to press against his cold cheek.

“No.” [M/N] answered rather bluntly, this caused Ghostbur to deadpan, a bead of sweat appearing on the side of his head.

“Then why are you staring...?”

“Your face is nice to stare at, is all.” his face flushes blue again, he presses his lips together as he turned away, [M/N] erupted into laughter at the way Ghostbur raised his hands to his cheeks to cup them, squishing them together. Yeah, despite the fact he has the face of the person he hates most, this version of his face was quite nice to look at. From afar, Quackity was watching the way [M/N] was laughing wholeheartedly while Ghostbur was waving his hands in a desperate attempt to stop him, he couldn’t help but grit his teeth as his gaze hardened on them.

It wasn’t fair that he was able to be happy and they weren’t.

[a few weeks later]

“Techno, this fucking sheep won’t stop following me.” [M/N] complained, raising his leg when the blue wool sheep nipped at the ends of his pants before letting out a happy bleep “Just let me eat the damn thing!” he shouts, hoping that it would scare the sheep away and convince Technoblade to actually let him eat it, much to his dismay, neither happened.

“No! How many times have I told you?!” [M/N] merely rolls his eyes with a groan before pulling some hay out of his inventory, this managed to catch the attention of the sheep so he hurled his arm back before throwing the hay in a random direction, letting out a sigh of relief when the sheep chased after it. [M/N] kicked the snow off his feet before entering Technoblade’s house, his body shuddering as the warmth within his home enveloped his body, he sniffed as he walked down the hallway and there he saw Technoblade sitting at his dining room table. 

“So, when’s Phil supposed to come around?” the piglin pursed his lips, taking out one of the letter’s Philza had sent him via crow, pushing down his reading glasses as he read through it.

“Hmm, around midday.” the both of them glance at the time and saw it was nearly that time “I wonder what’s taking him so long, he’s not usually one for being late.”

“Maybe his age is finally catching up to him.” they both stare at each other before laughing, as they continued to wait for the blonde man, the two of them worked around the property. [M/N] was helping Technoblade feed the animals and fix anything that needed to be fixed or taken down, Technoblade was tasked with collecting firewood and so he was working by cutting up the wood from the trees [M/N] cut down-- excuse me, punched down. 

“You could help, you?” [M/N] smiled smugly, leaning against Steve that laid behind him as he continued to watch Technoblade chop wood.

“But you look like you’re having fun.” he raises his hand, catching the axe that was thrown at him, and gives him a look “Hey, I did my job, now you do yours.” Technoblade growls as he pulls out another axe and continues chopping wood.

“You just chopped down too many trees!”

“Think of it as training.” [M/N] clapped his hands, leaning more into Steve as he decided that he was going to catch a couple of zzz’s, only to be interrupted when something landed on his head. Opening his eyes in slight irritation, he raised a brow with a hum when he noticed that it was one of Philza’s crows. He sat up straight as he looked around in search for the immortal man, inhaling deeply to try and catch whiff of the man’s scent, only to conclude that it was just Technoblade and himself in the area. The crow bounced up and down on his head and then did he realize that there was a small note attached to its leg so he raised his arm and it perched itself on his forearm, he removes the note from its leg and reads through it. Technoblade lets out a tired huff, wiping away at his sweating forehead as allowing the winds of the winter biome cool down his overheating body, he turned to scold [M/N] for not helping him, only now noticing that his body was trembling as the letter in his grasp was covering his face, his hands tightening and crumbling the letter under his grip.

“[M/N], what’s the matter?” he lowers the letter and there Technoblade saw [M/N]’s face expressing the emotions of anger and anxiousness, he glances down at the letter with his eyes before giving it to him.

“They’ve got Phil.” he whispers out through gritted teeth, Technoblade snatches the letter from out of his hands and quickly reads through it and his face soon matches [M/N], only, his anger was overwhelming his fear “What do we do?” Technoblade crumbles the letter up and throws it away, throwing the axe into the stump he was cutting wood on and starts making his way to his house.

“We prepare for a fight.” [M/N] was on his feet, allowing Steve to follow his master, and his hand closed into a fist. Reading that letter made his still heart thump against his chest and reminiscence the feeling of when he was serving Schlatt. His loyalty as a wolf was resurfacing from the grave and the thought of something horrible having happened to Philza all because of him was beginning to overwhelm his thoughts, he takes in a breath before turning away and rushing over to his home to prepare for the battle with him and Technoblade vs L’Manburg’s Butcher Army “[M/N]! Do you have any strength potions?!” he hears Technoblade shout from his house.

“No! I don’t make potions like that, that’s your thing!” he shouts back, tightening the guard on his forearm as he adjusted the rest of the armor on his body. It was true, he rarely used any potions that boosted up physical strength and speed, mostly using potions to insta heal himself and whatnot, his own strength and speed was superb enough that the potions used on others meant nothing.

“Useless!” he hears the other shout, this caused him to let out an offended gasp.

“Coming from the fool who has to use potions to make himself stronger!” they cease in their verbal argument when [M/N] heard footsteps, peeking his head out of his den, he let out a gasp when he saw who it was “Ghostbur? What on earth-- what are you doing here?” [M/N] has a hold on his forearms as he pulls him into his den, Ghostbur looks up at him and noticed the look of worry gracing his face.

“What’s the matter, [M/N]? Did something happen?” said man let out a frustrated growl, running his clawed hand through his hair as he searched through his chests for potions that would be helpful for himself and other potions that would debuff the Butcher Army.

“Tubbo locked Phil under house arrest and is coming for Techno and I.” his back was to the ghost, his head hanging low as his grip on the chest tightened, his claws digging into the wood “I fear that they’re going to kill us both if we don’t do anything...” Ghostbur noticed the way his body was trembling slightly, whether it be fearing for his life or maybe irritation that Tubbo had the gull to try and execute him out of a grudge. [M/N] flinched when he felt Ghostbur take his hand, glancing down, he saw tears running down his face as the blue dye on Ghostbur’s hands smudge onto his hand and fur.

“I don’t understand why Tubbo is doing this... maybe if you try and talk it through, he might listen.” [M/N] shook his head, slipping his hand free from the ghost and placing them both on his shoulders.

“I don’t believe he wants to talk it out. I feel like he’ll feel the most at ease with both Techno and I out of the picture.” he wipes away his tears before walking past him so he could make his way to Technoblade’s house, he sighs to himself as he shook his head when he heard the ghost following behind him closely. Ghostbur stayed outside, kicking at the snow as Technoblade and [M/N] thought of battle plans for when the Butcher Army showed up at their doorstep, but [M/N] couldn’t help but continue to worry.

“Hey, [M/N]! Hey!” said man lets out a sigh as he turned to look over at the ghost, Ghostbur grabbed a hold of his hand and pointed with his other at the sheep with blue wool “Look, look! It’s a sign, blue!” despite the dire situation they were in, he chuckles softly as he nods his head.

“Right, blue.”

“[M/N].” he lets out a hum, turning to look at Technoblade and saw him cock his head in the direction of the house, the wolfman lets out a sigh as he takes his hand back from Ghostbur.

“As cute as it is, Techno and I need to prepare for the onslaught that Tubbo is going to bring to us. I’d really appreciate it if you could take that sheep and get as far away as possible. Hide over a hill or something! Just get as far away from here as possible, okay? Can you do that for me, Ghosty?” Ghostbur nods, blushing at the nickname.

“O-Okay!” they watch as he goes outside and towards the sheep, attaching the lead to the sheep and leading it away “Come here blue boy. Okay, bye, bye Techno and [M/N]! H-Have fun preparing for the-- for the event.” [M/N] nods, waving goodbye as he watched Ghostbur walk away with the blue sheep following close behind.

“We shouldn’t have to worry about Ghostbur, right?”

“... we probably should.” was Technoblade’s answer before he turned around and watched away to continue preparing, this response caused [M/N] tp purse his lips and deadpan at Technoblade’s retreating form.

“That doesn’t help reassure me at all, Techno.” he was promptly ignored, once they were fully equipped in armor and fully stocked on potions, food and weapons, they took turns scooping outside the safety of Technoblade’s home for any signs of a threat. It was Technoblade’s turn to look outside the trap door window while [M/N] was distracted in sharpening his claws when he heard a groan, he raised his head and saw an annoyed look on his face.

“You’ve got to be kidding me?” [M/N] glances at him.

“What?” he points out the trapdoor and so [M/N] peeks his head over his shoulder to see what it was, his jaw dropped at he sight “Oh god, that plan to have Ghostbur hide over the hills did not work!” he shouts, Technoblade grits his teeth as he shakes his head.

“Not at all!” [M/N] soon slaps his hands over his face. 

“Urgh, Ghostbur!” he groans out, [M/N] was over Technoblade’s shoulder as they look through the trapdoor and watch Ghostbur’s interaction with the Butcher Army, they both gasp when Ghostbur looks at them.

“No, no! Don’t make eye contact with me—no, don’t wave at me Ghostbur! No, no! Do not wave at me!” [M/N] slaps his hands over his face again as he shook his head.

“Oh no, they’re punching him. No, oh no... Ghostbur you’re on your own.”

“We can’t save you, Ghostbur.” Ghostbur then starts walking over to them “Oh this is not good—no, no! Don’t walk over to us! Don’t lead them over to us! Oh—I’m starting to hate this guy so bad. I hate this guy so bad.” [M/N] just groans as he presses his hand to his forehead once again when Ghostbur starts waving his hand, Tubbo, Fundy and Ranboo behind him while Quackity was beside him with an axe in hand.

“Hey, hey Technoblade! [M/N]! The—They say they’re going to kill you, Technoblade.” he presses a finger to his cheek as he looks back at them, Technoblade shook his head as he opened the door and looked at Ghostbur.

“Ghostbur-- Ghostbur, why are you—why are you leading them over to my house? Why are you doing this?” Ghostbur looks back at the Butcher Army then back at them.

“What do you want me to say back to them?” [M/N] was over Technoblade’s shoulder again as he points at them.

“Tell them that we’re not here and to fuck off!” Technoblade nods his head.

“Yeah, tell them that they’re at the wrong place.” Ghostbur tilts his head to the side.

“But that would be lying.”

“I-I—I need you to—they're going to kill me! Why are you not okay with lying?!” they both look over and sigh “And they’re all here, they’re all here. They’re all right outside my house.” [M/N] was internally screaming in his head as he pressed his palms together while pressing them to his face, he then glances over at Ghostbur and grabs him by his forearms and pulls him towards his chest.

“Ghosty, the plan to hide isn’t an option anymore, and I don’t want you getting hurt than you already are.” he shakes his head as he pulls Ghostbur back so he could look down at him “It would really put me at ease if you stay inside the house, alright? Out of sight, out of the way, but safe. Do you think you can do that for me? Can you do that for me?” Ghostbur stares up at him, noticing the way [M/N]’s brows scrunched up in concern as he continued to hold Ghostbur’s arms, the ghost soon nodded his head as he gave him a reassuring smile.

“If it’s what you want.” he lets out a sigh of relief, his shoulder briefly settling before they tensed up again when he heard Technoblade talking to the Butcher Army, he inhales deeply before pushing the door open from behind him and gently pushing Ghostbur inside.

“Stay in the house no matter what, and don’t come out no matter what. If you hear someone’s voice that’s neither Techno’s nor mine, don’t come out or answer. This is for your own safety, okay?” he nods.

“Okay.” he goes to shut the door but paused when he felt something nibbling at his pants, he looked down and grimaced at the sight of the blue sheep eating his pants, he lifts his leg and Ghostbur laughs “He seems to like you very much.” he cooed as he took the sheep, [M/N] only rolled his eyes.

“A weird thing for the sheep to like, especially when I tried to eat it.” he ignored Ghostbur when he made a face, cutting him off by closing the door and soon approaching Technoblade from behind, placing a hand on his shoulder as he leaned down “Have you managed to convince them, Techno?” he scoffs, rolling his eyes as he steadied the sword in his hand.

“Of course not, do you really think they would listen to reason?” he laughs.

“No, I’m just glad that we’re able to fight them and I won’t get reprimanded by Phil. But before we start this rumble, let me ask you one thing.” he says, standing up straight and glaring at the Butcher Army “What have we done in these past few months that we deserve to be treated with such unjust? I bet there’s no political reason and you’re simply doing this because we’re too dangerous to have around, because we threaten you just by simply being alive.” 

“What ever happened to serve and protect? Hah, this is giving me more than enough reasons to destroy the government. You use unfair methods to try and get the upper hand, but you still fall short to the point that it’s laughable.” at that, both Technoblade and [M/N] throw their heads back as they burst out into laughter, but this laughter was not the kind you could laugh along to, they were both laughing rather manically and mockingly. Soon, the laughter died down until their was nothing but silence, the bigger two take a deep breath before they glare at the Butcher Army “You’ve made the wrong choice in making us your enemy, L’manburg. We’ll make you regret your choice.”

“We’re only protecting the people from you.” [M/N] scoffed.

“What you should be protecting the people from is yourselves. You’re nothing but uncoordinated fools.” he takes a step back so that he was standing behind Technoblade, the two of them smirk darkly as Technoblade pulls out two potions.

“I choose blood!” he shouts before throwing them to the ground, the contents within the potions splashing on them and granting them extra strength and swiftness but also acting as a smoke screen to block the view of the Butcher Army ahead of them. 

“No!”

“Oh no!” the four brace for impact and wait for the outcome to happen, [M/N] was the first to make his presence known by pushing the smoke back and letting out a loud howl, revealing to them that he was now in his full form and was not planning on letting them get out of there unscathed. Ranboo staggered backwards when he saw that [M/N] locked eyes with him, he grits his teeth and raises his axe in a poor attempt to block his attack but was denied when the wolfman easily punched through the shaft of the axe, snapping it in half and his fist connecting with the Enderman hybrid’s torso. Ranboo was winded immediately as he was sent flying backwards, he collapsed to his knees and wrapped his arm around his stomach, tears leaking from his eyes and burning his skin as some saliva dribbled out of his mouth.

’Messing with these two was a mistake from the very beginning.’ Ranboo thought, gasping for air as he tried to compose himself despite taking such an intense blow from the very beginning, he soon lets out a whine as he closed his eyes ’God, I am in so much pain...!’ he really was, the axe was able to kill most of the blow but he still took a punch to the chest from [M/N] of all people. Still cradling his stomach, he weakly raised his head and shivered in fear when he saw [M/N]’s [E/C] eyes staring down at him intensely before he turned around and charged towards Fundy, who let out a yip before running away. This sort of reaction confused Ranboo, he was told by Tubbo, Fundy and Quackity that [M/N] was relentless and merciless when it came down to killing, so he couldn’t understand why [M/N] left him be.

The answer? It’s quite simple really, though he was already wary of the Enderman hybrid as well as the fact that he was threatening his life that very moment, he could tell that the kid was just roped in because he was new to the server as well as the fact that he knew nobody so he was only trusting the other three because there was nobody else there to teach him right from wrong. There was also the fact that Ranboo hadn’t directly done anything wrong to [M/N] where he needed to beat some sense into him, that one little love tap was more than enough to get him to think twice before raising his weapon against someone who was leagues above him. That being said, he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt when he punched Fundy in the face and watched him collapse to the ground, to which he proceeded to grab him by the ankle as start swinging him around.

“Hey, Techno! Let’s play baseball!” Fundy’s face paled when he saw both men smirk, beginning to break out into a cold sweat when he saw Technoblade kick Tubbo into Quackity as he raised his axe and pulled it back while holding the shaft of the axe like it was a baseball bat “Shoot for a homerun!” 

“Hey! I’m not a damn ball! This isn’t going to work!” Fundy shouts in hopes he could stop the two from doing something insane, [M/N] merely rolled his eyes as he tossed him up slightly so his hand would grab onto the collar of his shirt instead. Now with a better hold on the fox man, he pulls his arm back before slamming his foot onto the snowy ground before throwing him at Technoblade full force, he soon bursts out into laughter when Technoblade swung his axe and the flat side of the blade hit Fundy square in the face and sent him flying into a tree.

“Nice one!” [M/N] cheered as he approached the pigman, raising his paw and the two of them high five.

“Nice serve.” he jokingly bows his head.

“Thank you, thank you.” they soon fist pump before going back to absolutely demolishing the two who were still able to move, Quackity and Tubbo take a step backwards as the two bigger hybrids start closing in on them with little to no remorse in each step, the two of them were ready to dye the white snow red with their blood “You take Tubbo?” [M/N] says, the boy flinches when Technoblade moved his gaze to him before nodding his head.

“Sure, and Quackity’s yours?” he salutes.

“Rightyo.” they switch places before [M/N] starts charging towards Quackity, keeping true to his word, he completely ignored Tubbo in favor for the damned bastard who took one of Schlatt’s lives, that was enough to fuel that anger that he managed to bury deep inside him. [M/N] didn’t even chase after Quackity, the duck fled out of fear while [M/N] simply walked after him, a sickening smirk on his face as he watched Quackity stumble over his footing as he tried getting away from [M/N] “Aw, what happened to all that confidence, Quackity? Weren’t you here to kill us, but right now, it seems the opposite is happening right now.”

“Shut up! We’re still going to kill you both!” he rolls his eyes.

“For what?” he asks once more “Techno and I have done nothing to you guys and L’Manburg for months, and yet now you guys are here because we’re too dangerous? I call bullshit, I just know that there is another reason as to why you guys are doing this. Or perhaps, maybe this was your idea. You do seem to be the one running the show here while Tubbo is in the passenger seat, what’s your motive?” Quackity was now backed into a tree, back pressed flush against the stump as [M/N] loomed over him with a dark expression, a nervous smirk worked its way onto Quackity’s face as he managed to swallow down all his fear as he took a step forward, leaning up to glare straight into [M/N]’s eyes.

“You’re right, [M/N], you’re right. You’re on the hit list, both you and Technoblade, even Dream.” he shoves [M/N] back enough to poke at his chest, a twisted expression now crossing onto his face “I don’t care how long it takes me nor what I have to do to get there, but I’m going to make sure that I’m the one that kills you, the three of you.” 

“Hah, I’d love to see you try, little duckling.” pulling his arm back, he bares his claws and goes to strike Quackity down but the latter was just lucky enough to duck down, sweating a little when [M/N]’s clawed paws took down the tree in one strike. He tries to crawl away but lets out a grunt when [M/N] kicked him down before grabbing his ankle, this time, he didn’t swing Quackity around like a ragdoll like he did to Fundy, nah, he turned around and slammed his body into the ground before throwing him towards the house. That wicked grin appeared on his face as he noticed the way Quackity’s body was trembling in pain, he then looks to the side and saw the fallen tree so he knelt down and managed to get a good hold on it before lifting it up.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” Quackity weakly croaked out when he noticed a shadow looming over him and he turned around to see what it was, only to pale when he saw that it was the tree [M/N] was previously holding before he threw it at him. He quickly rolled out of the way and shivered when it landed just where he was, Technoblade noticed and he quickly looked over at the wolfman and glared at him.

“Hey! Watch the house! You’re paying for damages!” the other scoffed.

“Through labour, dickhead!” Technoblade only rolled his eyes, Quackity pushed himself onto his back before rolling away when [M/N] jumped from where he was and was intending to land on top of Quackity, or rather, slam his claws into his body as he descended from the sky. He swallowed thickly as he stared at the damage [M/N] caused and was frantically looking for a way to subdue both men, his eyes soon landed on a horse and an idea crossed his mind, he scrambles to his feet and [M/N] doesn’t hesitate to chase after him.

“Big Q, do something!” Tubbo shouts from where he was, raising his axe one more time to block Technoblade’s sword from slicing his face “Big Q!” he growls and pulls his sword back one more time and goes to deliver the final blow but was stopped when he heard Quackity shout his name.

“Technoblade!” he turned his head to the call and his eyes widened at the sight, Quackity was holding the lead to Technoblade’s most prized horse Carl with the blade of his sword at his neck, he lifted his blade and pointed it in the direction of where Quackity was Tubbo took this distraction as an opportunity to get away.

“You get away from that horse right now!” Technoblade shouts.

“This is how this is going to go, Technoblade. Drop everything you have and come with us, if you don’t, I am going to kill this fucking horse.” [M/N] was just a couple inches away from Quackity and he glared at the little bastard.

“Technoblade, come on.” [M/N] starts, noticing the way the pigman was hesitating “It’s a horse! You can always get another one!” he adds, throwing his arms open to exaggerate his point. 

“We wouldn’t have been in this mess if you hadn’t played with your food!” this caused the other to narrow his eyes at him.

“Don’t play with me, Techno. You do the same!” Quackity and Tubbo sweat drop when they notice the two of them start arguing, Quackity lets out a growl before moving the blade so that it was closer to Carl’s neck.

“Enough fucking around! I promise you, if you don’t drop everyone you have right now, I’ll make sure to kill this horse!” he threatens once more, [M/N]’s shoulders dropped when he saw Technoblade inhale deeply as he looked away, he soon closed his eyes when he witnessed Technoblade drop his sword before removing all his armor and taking all his items out of his inventory, hell, he even took his crown and cape off “That’s right, and you too, [M/N]!” the wolfman glared at the new tyrant when he saw that confidence rise to his face once more, he only shook his head before doing the same thing. Ranboo and Fundy had now regained their composure and were chaining Technoblade and [M/N] up, Ranboo flinched when he placed a collar that was Enchanted with Curse of Binding around his neck with a chain that connected with the handcuffs around his neck. 

“I’m sorry...” Ranboo apologize, this apology surprised [M/N] slightly, his ears and head perking up in confusion when he could tell that Ranboo was sincere about his apology.

“... you’ve done nothing wrong.” was all [M/N] said to the young boy before looking away, flexing his hands and missing the way a conflicted expression worked its way onto Ranboo’s face. Ranboo would sometimes converse with Philza and Ghostbur and both men would say such positive things about [M/N] and the one thing he was working on was his anger management. He could see how calm [M/N] was despite the fact that he was now going to be executed along with Technoblade, who was just as calm as the other as they were being led away. Ranboo soon noticed the way [M/N] kept glancing back towards Technoblade’s house with a worried expression before stumbling forward when Fundy yanked on the chain connected to the collar, he then remembered the fact that Ghostbur was still in the house and was going to go check on him but stopped when he heard Quackity’s voice.

“Let’s go, Ranboo.” he said, no, it was more like an order that he had to obey, so with a nod of his head he followed them.

“Right.” 

[in l’manburg]

“I can’t believe it, you actually got them.“ being led into L’Manburg once more was almost humilating, but that humiliation disappeared when the two men turn their heads at the sound of Philza’s voice and there they saw the older man detained in his own home with a ankle band that was Enchated with Curse of Binding, keeping him from leaving his house but he was able to stand out on his veranda and there he bared witness to seeing his old friend and newest friend being dragged along in chains.

“Phil!” Technoblade shouts, finally acting up and  taking a step forward, yanking at his chains as he looked up at him “What did they do to you?!” he exclaims, gritting his teeth when Fundy pulled at his chains and Quackity grabbed his shoulder. [M/N] was just as shocked but he was shaking in anger, he was ready to burst but the look Philza was giving him made him calm down slightly, however that did not stop the continuous beating in his heart and it only continued to beat. He let out a grunt when he was kicked down onto his knees by Quackity, who was now holding the chains to his cuffs and collar while Tubbo led Technoblade to the cage he was going to be executed in. 

“You’re going to watch Technoblade die in front of you and know that what we do to him will happen to you.” [M/N] only growled in response before letting out a groan when Quackity yanked on the chians once more to shut him up, he growled to himself before his eyes wander up to where Technoblade was approaching his death. 

Walking up the steps to the cage that was to hold him in his cell for his execution was slowly dawning on him, each step he took felt heavy, almost as if he was trudging through ocean waters. It was unsettling that this was where he was going to die, what was upsetting was that Philza and [M/N] were there and they were going to see him take his last breath. He was going to die with his friend and associate, along with his enemies, watching him, Fundy was the one to lock him in the cage and he turned around to face them as Tubbo took his spot on the podium to make his speech.

“Technoblade has robbed this country of what made it special; everything that defined what it was. He stepped in when he shouldn’t have. He caused chaos, he ruined the government! He— Punz is throwing fucking—“ Technoblade wasn’t bothered listening to the blubbering bullshit Tubbo was goin on about because it just meant nothing to him, but at the mention if Punz, he raised his head and saw the mercenary throwing an Ender Pearl down from where he was and made his appearance in the middle of it all. The Butcher Army was confused as to why he suddenly showed up but were taken aback when he threw down multiple potions to boost his own stats while causing a smoke screen, what really threw them in a loop was when he placed down TNT.

“Punz! What are you doing?!”

“Punz, stop!”

“Fucking get his ass!”

“I’ll— I’ll just sit here.” Technoblade muttered to himself, watching the chaos unfold as they all chased after Punz to stop him from doing what he was doing, Technoblade sighed to himself as he leaned against the steel bars of the cage “This is nice.” he then glanced over at [M/N] and saw he made no attempt in trying to get free as he watched the chaos unfold with an equally confused look on his face. 

“Technoblade.” he flinched slightly at the sound of a echoing voice, turning his head, he hummed softly at the sight of Ghostbur and that goddamn blue sheep right behind him, obediently following after him while nibbling on the hem of his yellow sweater “Technoblade!” he cheered once more, to which the latter pursed his lips as he slowly nodded his head.

“Hello Ghostbur.” he greets, rather calmly despite the fact he was about to die.

“I’ve named him— I’ve named him Friend.” he nods.

“That’s fantastic Ghostbur, that’s fantastic. I’m about to die Ghostbur.”

“Okay, fuck it. Fuck it!” Technoblade turned his attention away from Ghostbur when he heard Quackity shouting while rushing back over to where the lever was while the others dealt with Punz.

“Big Q, pull the lever!”

“Heh?!”

“Pull the lever!” Technoblade takes a step back, looking up at the wooden blank that kept him and the anvil intending to kill him away. The thumping in his heart was beating so fast that it was all he could hear, slowly, everything started going slow motion in his point of view. He opened up his inventory and pulled out the one item that he kept hidden from the Butcher Army that would surely save his life, but he also knew that it was going to hurt like a motherfucker. So, holding onto it with a grip that made his knuckles turn white, he closed his eyes shut and waited for the impact of the anvil to kill him. [M/N] winced as he turned away, his ears pressing against his head when he heard the anvil slam onto Technoblade’s head and kill him, however, the sound of confetti reached his ears and he couldn’t help but turn his head back towards the pigman.

[Technoblade has reached the goal Postmortal]

“Heh, Technoblade never dies, huh?” was all [M/N] could say as he watched in amazement and disgust when he saw the Totem of Undying regenerate his skull, how from his bones, to his muscle to his skin was put back together but his face held the scar of a crack that shimmered like gold. 

“What?!”

“Huh?!”

“How did he not die?!”

“What is going on?!” amongst all the confusion [M/N] tugs on the chains as he looked at Technoblade.

“Techno, run!” he noticed him hesitate.

“What about you?!”

“I’ll be fine! Just get outta here!” he took a breath before nodding his head and sprinting away, following after where Dream had taken Carl away. Quackity was the only one to leave the scene while Punz was left to fight the remaining members of the Butcher Army, [M/N] then took a deep breath as he looked down at the collar that was keeping him from going ape shit. Tubbo was in the middle of defending himself from an arrow shot by Punz when he heard the low growling, he turned to look at where [M/N] was and his eyes widened in fear when he noticed that he his grip on the collar was so tight as he was slowly breaking it off.

“No... no! Stop him! We can’t let him loose!” Fundy and Ranboo turned to face [M/N] and were frightened that the collar was at the verge of breaking with how  how tight [M/N] was gripping it while pulling it apart. They immediately rush towards him and attempt to stop him but were stopped dead in their tracks by Punz, giving [M/N] enough time to break the collar with his bare claws then letting out a loud howl as he glared at the lot of them from behind Punz. 

“You lot have got some nerve.” he snarled lowly at them, however, he ignored them and raised his head to look up at Philza. Said man took a step back when he noticed how the wolfman pulled his wrists apart to break the handcuffs before he knelt down and launched himself over to his veranda, pushing himself off the walls until he was standing on top of the railing “Let’s get outta here, Phil.” the blonde chuckled softly when he saw [M/N] extend his hand out to him, he took his hand with a shake of his head.

“Yeah, let’s go.” he let out a whoa when [M/N] tugged him forward, he wrapped his arm beneath him and was going to jump away until he heard the sound of Ghostbur’s voice, he looked down and his eyes widened when he saw the ghost.

“Ghosty? Seriously?! Didn’t I tell you to stay at the house?” he exclaims, the other just laughed.

“I was wondering where everyone went and came here to find you guys at the event.” [M/N] only shook his head.

“Goodness gracious.” he knelt down so he could put Philza on his back before launching himself towards Ghostbur, hooking his arm under the ghost then grabbing the sheep before charging over towards Punz, who stumbled backwards then let out a whoa when [M/N] opened his mouth and locked his jaws onto the hood of his jumper before tossing them all up and onto his back as he ran away on all fours at full speed. 

“What about Techno?!” Phil shouts, letting out a whoa when he felt [M/N] pick up the pace, placing his hand on his head to keep his hat from flying off.

“Techno will be fine! That piece of shit Quackity doesn’t stand a chance against Techno despite the odds being in Techno’s favor.” [M/N] noticed Philza was still worried about ihs friend so he looked back up towards him with a look of reassurance “Come on now, Phil. Techno was able to walk off an anvil to the head, he’ll surely be able to walk away from Quackity with Carl in toe.” Philza bit his lip before letting out a sigh as he nodded his head.

“Well... alright.” 

[Quackity was slain by Technoblade]

“Heh, see?” [M/N] started, the message of Quackity’s death appearing before their eyes, relieving them of their stress and worry “Techno will be fine.” with that [M/N] took off without a moments rest, Punz whistled to himself as he held onto [M/N]’s fur with a death grip when the man leapt through the air to cover more ground then landed on the ground with a loud thud before sprinting off as if it were nothing. [M/N] was now collapsed onto his stomach, taking deep breaths and wheezing after running nonstop until he reached the shoreline and was now taking a much needed rest, Ghostbur was by his side petting his head while Philza was watching the forest in search for his friend, Punz doing the same but looking for Dream. 

“You did such a good job, [M/N]. Well done.” Ghostbur praised, Philza snorted when he noticed the way [M/N]’s tail started thumping on the ground, then both he and Punz raised their guards at the sound of shuffling coming from the forest,[M/N] doing the same but instead pulling Ghostbur and Friend close to him to protect.

“Whoa there, it’s just us.” they all let out a collective sigh of relief when they saw that it was only Technoblade and Dream emerging from the forest.

“Took you long enough.” [M/N] pursed his lips as he shrugged his shoulders, looking away from Technoblade growled at him but Philza grabbed his arm to calm the piglin, Ghostbur doing the same with the wolfman but was scolding him softly.

“I’m so glad that you’re alright, Techno.” Philza said before wrapping his arms around the man, who let out a soft sigh as he gently pats him on the back, he then raised his head and his ears perked up when he noticed that [M/N] gave him a thumbs up. 

“Good to see you still kicking, Techno.” he only chuckles.

“You think that was enough to kil me?”

“Of course not.” they both smile softly at each other and fist bump each other, [M/N]’s soon moved towards Dream, a shallow growl emitting from his throat. He still never forgot his promise to Dream about his betrayal towards him and Schlatt, but because of Dream that very night, he probably would have died.

“I can tell what you’re thinking, [M/N].” Dream said rather mockingly, the growl resurfaced at his tone and Dream made sure to change tactics because he knew not to antagonize this man “Since Punz and I saved you two, I hope you guys can return the favor in the future.” Technoblade was the first to answer, a soft smile on his face.

“Of course! Whenever you need it, I’ll be there to setlle the debt.” Dream’s eyes then returned to [M/N], he noticed him narrow his eyes at the green man before throwing his head back.

“Fine, I might be there if you need a favor from me as well.” that was more than enough for Dream, to which he bowed his head towards them, arm to his chest and a soft smirk on his face.

“Then it was pleasure doing business with you lot.” 

[set-phasers-to-whump]

“don’t try to pin this on me”

prompt: “don’t try to pin this on me” (alt no.6)

whumpee: neal caffrey

fandom: white collar

back with neal today!! missed writing him :) this is set s3 or 4 ish, well into the show anyway. hope you enjoy!

“I’m missing dinner with June for this,” Neal grumbles, holding the door for Peter. 

“And I’m very sorry she’s missing your sparkling presence,” Peter replies, stepping through the door and flashing his badge to a security guard. “Maybe think about things like this the next time you decide to get yourself arrested.”

Neal spins and looks at him, mock affronted. “Low blow, Agent Burke.”

The two make their way through the apartment of the lobby towards the elevators. Around them, other agents begin coming into the building, overwhelming the poor security guard, who fights a losing battle of attempting to check everyone’s credentials. 

Peter and Neal step into the elevator just as the guard sinks helplessly down onto a bench, head in hands. 

“Poor guy,” Neal remarks, pressing the button for the top floor. 

Peter reaches over him and presses the button marked ‘5’ instead. 

“Can’t we go to the top first?” Neal asks. “I hear there’s a restaurant up there with amazing views of the city.”

“Right, an amazing restaurant that’s part of an apartment building being used to run a massive counterfeiting operation.”

“Still,” Neal complains, “it wouldn’t hurt to just take a look.”

Peter relents as the elevator opens onto the fifth floor. “Fine. After all of this is done.”

Neal seems happy enough about that prospect, and the two of them step into the hallway. 

“Lovely place,” says Neal, stepping over an empty can of paint. 

“This is the only floor currently under renovation,” Peter says, “and apart from the basement it’s most likely to be the center of operation for the entire thing.”

“And we’re here alone.”

“Other agents are coming up in a minute. Besides, these guys already know we’re here, and I’ve dealt with their ringleader before. He’ll run, not fight.”

“Great,” Neal says, not sounding much like he believes this. Apparently, though, he accepts it, and follows Peter down the dimly-lit hall, stepping over various construction materials and ducking the occasional piece of exposed pipe. 

--

Neal’s a few feet behind Peter when the agent steps around a corner, then quickly sticks his head back around it. “Found something,” he says, and Neal hurries after him. 

Peter has indeed found something. Several somethings, in fact, in a hallway that’s curiously devoid of the construction materials that litter the rest of the floor. A stack of counterfeit purses, some kind of large machine that Neal’s seen before in operations like this, and a safe with its door open. 

“Nothing in it,” Peter says, gesturing towards the safe. “And they didn’t take their bags.”

“Or unplug their machine,” Neal adds, as he pulls its cord from the wall. 

“They left in a hurry.”

“They could still be nearby.”

Peter radios this information to the rest of the team as the two of them continue down the hallway. 

“Watch your head,” Peter warns Neal, ducking underneath a metal pipe stretching across the hall. 

They reach the end of the hallway, which splits off into two directions. Neal looks down one, and Peter down the other. 

There’s movement at the end of his hallway, slightly obscured by the reemergence of the construction stuff, but visibly human. 

“Peter,” Neal hisses, trying not to let whoever it is know they’re there. 

“What?” Peter hisses back, coming to stand next to him. 

“Look,” he whispers, pointing to the movement.

Peter draws his gun. Neal keeps his eyes trained on the figure. 

Who must suddenly see them, because they start running. 

Neal takes off after them without a second of hesitation, hearing Peter shout behind him but ignoring him. He’ll catch this person. He will. 

He’s gaining on them slowly but surely, coming within a few feet as the two of them skid around a corner. He’s so close…

He looks back to Peter, several yards behind him, for just a second, to make sure he’s coming, then turns his attention fully back to his chase - 

And, too late, to the piece of metal pipe in front of him. 

He slams into the pipe at full speed, head colliding with a resonating metallic sound. The taste of blood fills his mouth almost immediately, and his ears start to ring as his forehead bursts into an explosion of pain. 

He stumbles to the ground in the shock of it all, the world spinning around him. He blinks to try and clear his head, and then the blurry shape of Peter is crouching in front of him. 

“Hey, you okay?” Peter asks, or at any rate, that’s the best approximation of what he says that Neal’s ringing ears are able to make out. 

Ugh...definitely not okay. He cannot believe that this has happened to him. It feels like something that might happen in a cartoon. He imagines little birds and stars floating around his head, and turns his blurry gaze to Peter’s face, and the offending piece of metal pipe behind it. He scowls at the pipe, wanting irrationally to get up and punch it.

--

Peter had been running as fast as he could behind Neal, who’d been incredibly stupid to just run after a potential suspect like that. Nevertheless, he’d been grateful, considering the lead Neal and the suspect both had had on him. 

The two had turned a corner, Peter hurrying along behind them. Neal had turned around to look at him a second after Peter had shouted a warning about the piece of metal pipe in front of him, and had then promptly run straight into it. 

Which brings them here, Peter kneeling worriedly by his CI’s side. Neal’s looking at him, though his eyes are unfocused, and he’s got this look of utter betrayal and anger on his face that’s definitely out of proportion for the situation, which is both funny and weirdly endearing. It’s also clearly not directed at Peter, he knows, turning around to see the piece of pipe directly behind him, dotted with a few small specks of blood. 

He turns back to Neal, whose gaze has not wavered, but is again aimed in Peter’s direction. 

“Don’t try to pin this on me, now,” Peter warns, grabbing a small flashlight from his jacket and turning it on, shining it into Neal’s eyes. 

“Cut it out,” Neal whines, turning his head away from the light. 

“I need to make sure the concussion that you almost certainly have isn’t too serious before I call for help,” Peter explains, gently guiding Neal’s face to once again look at him. 

Neal scowls again, a less severe version of the look he’d been giving the pipe, this time directed solely at Peter.

“I’m sorry,” Peter says, shining the light back into Neal’s eyes. “It’ll just take a second.”

He flicks off the flashlight as soon as he’s satisfied that both of Neal’s pupils are the same size. That, coupled with the fact that he’s conscious, though groggy and grouchy, makes Peter reasonably sure that his head injury is mild, moderate at worst. 

He radios for help, which Neal, predictably, balks at.

“I can walk, Peter,” he says, and attempts to stand to prove his point. 

He’s pitching forwards almost immediately, and Peter shoots to his feet to grab him before he hits the ground and hurts himself more. 

“Sure you can,” Peter replies, guiding the two of them back to the ground. “Just like you can avoid giant metal pipes.”

“Hey!” Neal protests. “‘S not my fault I turned around to look at you. You said something.”

“I said, watch out for that pipe.”

“Oh.”

Peter reaches out and touches a gentle hand to the blood on Neal’s forehead. As with most head wounds, this one is small, but bleeding a lot, and Peter wipes away some of the blood with his cuff to keep it away from Neal’s eyes. Neal winces and pulls away, then looks at Peter’s hand with confusion evident on his face.

“‘M bleeding?” Hands quickly reach for his head, and Peter pulls them away with his non-bloody hand. 

“It’s just a cut, Neal,” he reassures. “Nothing to worry about.”

Neal relents easily, dropping his hands down to the floor. It’s clear he’s pretty out of it, and Peter hopes the paramedics will arrive soon. Right now, Neal’s not feeling the full effects of having slammed into a metal pipe at full speed - he’s in a little bit of a daze, obviously hurting, but not nearly as much as Peter bets he will, once the initial shock wears off. He’d like for Neal to have some painkillers already in him when that happens. 

A minute or two later, a few paramedics come hurrying up to them, bustling Neal onto a stretcher, which he attempts a rather feeble protest at. They push him into the elevator, Peter walking next to him, speaking into his radio. 

“We’ve caught a suspect fleeing the building,” someone says, in response to Peter’s call. “Saw him climbing down the fire escape on the fifth floor. Dressed in a security guard’s uniform, pockets are full of money.”

“You hear that?” Peter asks Neal, as the elevator opens to the ground floor. “They caught him.”

Neal nods. “Knew I’d get him,” he mutters under his breath. Peter stifles a laugh, patting Neal softly on the shoulder. 

“Good work, buddy.”

“Aww, thanks,” Neal replies, with a self-satisfied grin. The paramedics stop them outside the doors of the building, helping Neal to sit on the back bumper of the ambulance, whereupon they begin to do various checks on Neal to make sure he’s not too concussed, and bandage his cut. 

As Peter’d figured, hoped, he’s fine - a mild concussion, treatment for which is a few days off of work, some better-than-over-the-counter pain meds courtesy of the paramedics, an ice pack, and someone to watch over him for 48 hours. 

“That would be me and my wife,” Peter tells the paramedics immediately after they pose the question of who exactly will be watching over him. Neal looks up at Peter from where he’s sitting, like he’s not sure he’d heard him correctly. 

“You’re coming home with me, understand?” Peter asks, offering Neal a hand up and a silently-given shoulder to lean onto. 

“Got it,” Neal says. “Thank you, Peter,” he adds, after a beat, voice soft and a little slurred, leaning into Peter a bit more. 

“Anytime,” Peter says, and he genuinely means it.

thanks for reading! hope you enjoyed :)

[concussed-to-pieces]

Her Dove, His Falcon, Their Shield Part Two

Fandom: Game Of Thrones

Pairing: Oberyn/Reader/Ellaria

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Disclaimer for Game Of Thrones writing here! Hello everyone, welcome to the next installment! I hope you're all doing well. Thank you so much for being here. Enjoy!

Tag List: @culturalrebel @huliabitch @absurdthirst @helplessly-nonstop @lackofhonor @the-feckless-wonder @cyaredindjarin @thesadvampire @robin-writes @buckysalefty

Part One

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains allusions to previous abuse, non-graphic mentions of pregnancy/labor and birth, and threesome antics. Stay safe!]

"Again!" Oberyn demanded, wiping the sweat off his brow. 

You feinted left, then right, the butt of your pike nearly striking the prince in the ribs before he danced out of the way. You grunted, discouraged by the fact that you still weren't fast enough to catch him. You had been closer that time though…

The prince laughed, the noise in and of itself immensely galling. "Perhaps if you land a blow on me today, my newest daughter will bear your name!" He taunted. "Shieldove Sand has such a ring to it."

You leveled your pike at him. "Save your teasing for your courtiers, Prince Oberyn!" You snarled, "I am in no mood for your damned japery at my expense!"

"Hold." Oberyn ordered sharply. 

You slumped a little, your grip on the pike loose now. "I...I apologize, your highness." 

"You are concerned about her." It wasn't a question and you well understood that.

"I am." You allowed softly. 

Ellaria had gone into labor several hours before and Oberyn had specifically sought you out for some particularly grueling training. His smile was tight-lipped as the two of you squared off in the empty training courtyard. You knew he was worried as well, but you were bordering on frantic. 

Oberyn's heavy sigh took you by surprise. "I would give every breath in my body to be there with her, but I am told it is an excessively messy affair. She does not wish for me to see her birth." He said bluntly. "Every time it is like this. Every time I am caged, constantly pacing, driving myself mad with thoughts that grow more and more dark as the hours pass." 

You bit your lip and then laid a hand on his shoulder. "I am sorry Oberyn, I didn't mean to imply that...I know I am not the only one who fears for her safety." You apologized timidly.

He covered your hand with his own, thumb rubbing over your knuckles idly. "You called me Oberyn." He mused after a moment. You flinched, but he kept your hand where it was. "I am glad, my falcon. It heartens me to know that you think of her as I do." 

"We can do naught but pray for her safety and keep ourselves busy until she requires you once again." You pointed out, desperate to change the subject so he wouldn't dwell on your error of addressing him by his given name. "I must train even harder, for what if the new babe is like your Sand Snake Elia?"

Oberyn burst out laughing, bumping his forehead into yours. "Truly, what if! We will have no choice but to rally the guard at that point. No one will be safe." You couldn't help your smile when he looked at you, his eyes crinkling with mirth. "Thank you for the levity, my falcon." 

"I live to serve, your highness."

He sighed heavily, knocking the butt of his spear against the ground. "How many times must I insist you call me Oberyn?" The prince began to back away, his spear twirling easily in his deft hands. You shook your head ruefully and did not reply, your own weapon in a low defensive position. "Prepare yourself, Ser Shieldove! You face the Red Viper of House Martell!" He announced with a grand flourish, charging in afterwards.

You easily parried his first strike, and dodged his second. The third rasped against your chain mail loudly, making the prince grin triumphantly before you brought the haft of your pike up and threw him back a step. "Too cocky, princeling!" You admonished, startling another laugh out of him. "You'll have to do better than that!" 

Your pike thrust out and he slipped around it like the snake he was, his own mail clicking with the sharpness of his motions. You scoffed, swinging the shaft instead to finally catch him firmly in the ribs. The prince staggered, but quickly took advantage of your shock as his spear jabbed low, aiming for your legs. 

At the pressure of meeting your body, the safety binding around the blade of the spear tore slightly. You felt something catch on the inside of your unarmored thigh when Oberyn snapped his wrist back, his spear singing through the air with the speed of his retreat. You caught his next attack with the palm of your hand around the haft of his spear, halting the blow before it could land. "Mind your blade." You warned, tipping your head to the now-exposed metal at the head of his spear.

Oberyn nodded, then his eyes widened. As he strode forward, your thigh began to sting. You glanced down, startled by the amount of blood that already darkened your hose. Oberyn shoved you back a step with the force of his approach, his fingers tearing at the laced placket on your trews. 

"W-What are you doing?!" You protested, your voice pitched abnormally high out of fear as you slapped your hands down over his own to still them. He was too close, why was he-

"I have just slit your leg open and you ask what I'm doing? I should have made you wear your cuisses, I am a fool." He hissed, "Sparring with you while we are both in turmoil was me tempting fate, and now you...have…"

His words faded after he gave up on your placket and simply tore the hole in your hosiery a bit wider, exposing more of your bare thigh. You closed your eyes tightly, not wanting to see his face.

"Ser Shieldove, what are these marks from?" Oberyn queried after a moment, his trembling fingers grazing one of the many silvered scars.

"Pinching, Prince Oberyn." You answered softly.

"Pinching." His voice was flat with disbelief.

"When I would make noise or cry out during, Prince Oberyn." 

"Gods, what?" Oberyn breathed. 

You shrugged helplessly. "He did much worse to others. I was useful." You were certain he must be staring at you, but you could not bring yourself to meet his eyes. 

His arms wrapped around your shoulders and he embraced you, pulling you into his chest and resting his forehead against your temple. "That is...barbarous, monstrous." He seethed. "To so boldly attempt to rob you of any delight you might ever have--I tremble with rage!" His laugh was sardonic, bitter, and he was indeed shaking. "So that you can feel the echoes of his lecherous manhandling, every time you bathe or dress?"

"I do not believe he expected me to escape." You admitted, startled by his rough inhale of breath. "I believe he expected me to perish one of those nights, but I was hardier than his usual playthings."

"No more, falcon." Oberyn whispered. "Please. My heart breaks at the notion of you enduring such heinous treatment." He kissed your forehead and you flushed. This was far removed from his usual lighthearted flirting! He sounded distraught, burying his face in your neck as he continued to hold you.

My heart breaks…

Slowly, hesitantly, you raised your hands to rest on his back. Your fingers fumbled for purchase momentarily on his armor. If he merely sought you out for comfort because Ellaria was indisposed, then comfort him you would. Somehow. "I have survived him, however." You sighed. "And thanks to you, he will not harm anyone ever again."

"It feels like too little in the wake of his reign of terror." Oberyn muttered. "I did it solely for my sister, for the dashed body of my infant nephew and the slaughter of my niece, but had I stopped to think about the debt that man must have wracked up with his nightmarish actions…" He trembled again. "It is as though I was picked by the gods themselves to strike him down. Why me, I wonder?"

His palm covered the wound he had created, pressing down steadily as he helped you hobble to the nearby bench. "You worry too much!" You waved off his concern, peering at the wound. It was deeper than you had anticipated, but it was still hardly a scratch to someone like yourself. "This parchment cut shall not fell me. Unless you've poisoned your blade, Red Viper?"

"Never!" Oberyn protested. "I would not gamble so foolishly on naught but a simple sparring match, Ser Shieldove."

"You do loathe losing." You teased. "You must tell your daughters I died valiantly, cursing your name while choking on my own spittle or something equally as glorious."

"It would be a death for the history books." Oberyn assured you, the furrow of his heavy brow lessening somewhat as he seemed to realize that you would be alright. 

A servant skittered around the corner of the hallway leading to the training yard, her gauzy skirts bunched up in her hands so she could run freely. "Prince Oberyn!" She called, gasping for breath. 

The prince whirled and you lunged to your feet, your leg forgotten. "Speak, girl!" Oberyn demanded of the servant, who had obviously run quite a fair bit in order to find him.

"Baby--Ellaria wants--come now-" The girl panted, gesturing vaguely behind her.

Oberyn was still for a moment, like he was frozen. You placed a hand on his rear and gave him a gentle shove, saying, "tell her no matter what happens, I am proud of her, Oberyn." The prince nodded hurriedly, shaking off his daze and bolting down the hall.

You grimaced. Hopefully, no one would question the blood that stained his hand and vambrace! You decided your best option would be to retreat to your quarters to dress your wound and wait, on the off chance that the prince or his paramour would deign to summon you.

You had hoped that the sparring would help you expend some of your nervous energy, but it did not seem that luck was on your side. You found yourself endlessly restless, pacing back and forth beside your pallet as the sun slowly sank. The bells for the evening meal rang out, but you ignored them. 

You finally lit your lantern and settled down into the chair beside your bed, focusing on the flame that flickered in the glass panes. It was an old exercise, but comforting in its familiarity. You let your mind empty, let everything drift away until all that remained was the candle and yourself. 

All I ask is that they are healthy, whole and strong. You were uncertain of who you prayed to in these times of meditation, daring to surmise that you prayed to anyone who might be listening. All I ask is that Ellaria is well, and the baby is well. Your brow furrowed. Please.

You did not know how much time passed while you were in prayerful contemplation, only realizing how sore your back was when the door to your quarters was thrown open. The sudden motion made you flinch in surprise, looking up. It was that same servant, the young girl, her face alight. "The prince and his lady have sent for you, Ser Shieldove!" she chirped. 

Thank you, you threw your heartfelt gratitude to whoever might be responsible before snuffing out the candle.

Clad in only light hose and undertunic, you raced through the maze of outer hallways with all the speed and eagerness of a child. As you approached the birthing chambers, however, you attempted to calm your thundering heart and turbulent mind, slowing to an undignified jog.

The guard at the door saluted you stiffly, opening the door after a moment of floundering with his gauntlets. You crept into the room, closing the door gingerly behind you and then turning to survey the scene. 

The first thing you noted was Ellaria sound asleep in the lavishly-structured bed, her arms supporting a swaddled, tiny babe hungrily mouthing at her breast. You heaved a sigh of relief, slumping back against the door. The next thing you saw was Oberyn beside the bed, still in his armor, with a second swaddled bundle cradled in his embrace.

The prince looked up at you and you saw that his eyes were glassy with tears. "I have been blessed." He said hoarsely.

"Two?" You whispered, barely able to believe it yourself. 

Oberyn nodded, beckoning you closer. "Come see my first son, Ser Shieldove." He implored, his voice breaking. No longer caring if you seemed overeager, you strode across the chamber to the prince's side. Oberyn tugged at the swaddling by the babe's face, allowing you a clear view. 

"Oh." You sighed wistfully, reaching out to touch his sweet little nose before you remembered your manners and snatched your hand back. This was a Sand, after all, and the firstborn boy no less!

Oberyn tilted his head towards the washbasin beside the bed. "Wash yourself, and you may hold him."

"A-Are you sure? What if I...gods, he is so small, Prince Oberyn." You whispered. Oberyn just nodded, gesturing to the basin again. You obliged him rapidly but thoroughly, washing yourself to your elbows and then patting your arms dry with the clean towel. You returned and you were confronted with the reality of a slumbering, swaddled babe being deposited into your arms. 

"Cradle his neck, rest him upon your breast. The little ones have no real strength to hold themselves up." Oberyn instructed you softly, moving your hands until the baby was secure against your chest. "Look at him, just look." The prince didn't seem to be able to stop marveling at his new son, drawing a whisper-soft finger down the bridge of his wee nose. You were almost worried about the excessive attention he was giving to the boy, when he abruptly turned back to Ellaria. "Now, precious daughter, are you sated?" He cooed. Gods, domesticity suited him, armor and all. "Will you grant your poor mother respite? She has toiled long to bring you to my arms." 

"Too long." Ellaria agreed, smiling wearily up at Oberyn. He kissed her forehead, losing the battle with his tears. "Do not cry, lover!" His paramour chided him as he sniffled. 

"I am the most blessed man in all of Dorne and you would have me be stoic, woman? This one time, I'm afraid I cannot acquiesce!" Oberyn huffed, carefully scooping his sleeping daughter off of Ellaria's chest. You stifled your own giggles at the prince's petulant behavior, swaying back and forth idly.

Ellaria glanced up at the sound of your snorting, her eyes barely open as she smiled at you. "I am glad you're here, Ser Shieldove. I know my little ones will be safe now." She mumbled, obviously moments from falling back to sleep. 

You nodded, chuckling at Oberyn's indignant grumble. The baby in your arms stirred and you began to sing softly, not wanting to disturb Ellaria. "The moon rides sand dunes home to me, she calls me sweetly by name. I am a child, a child of Dorne, the moon she knows my name." You crooned, still swaying to and fro in an attempt to lull the babe back to sleep. "The sun rides sea waves home to me, he calls me proudly by name. I am a child, a child of Dorne, the sun he knows my name." You continued to hum the tune, even as you felt the little one relax against your chest.

"How do you know that song?" Oberyn whispered.

You glanced up, but his expression was guarded. "I heard one of the older knights singing it and I asked him to teach me. He said it was a child's song." You replied, whispering as well. "I simply liked the tune. Should I not sing it?"

"I have not heard that song since I was only knee-high myself. I had all but forgotten it." Oberyn's eyes were thoughtful, the prince studying you closely. "You are full of surprises, my falcon. It gives me a certain joy to know that the first song my babes ever heard was Moon And Sun." His brow furrowed. "I cannot recall the third verse, the one about the stars."

"The stars crown mountains high above, unbowed, unbent, unbroken. We are the stars, the stars of Dorne, the world will know our name." You prompted softly.

"You have a lovely voice, my dove. Perhaps you are a nightingale?" Oberyn teased. "I shall ask you to perform at their naming."

"Your mockery always wounds me so deeply, your highness." You deadpanned. Tiny fingers wrapped around your index and you looked down, but the child's eyes were still closed. "I have been seized, it appears." You said with a smile, laying a careful kiss on the baby's head. 

Oberyn cleared his throat suspiciously hard, thumbing away a few stray tears. You chose not to comment, allowing him his moment of paternal weakness.

…

You spread the blanket out on the ground in the blood orange grove, laughing when you caught sight of Dorea clobbering a nearby tree with her child-sized morningstar. "Lady Dorea! I believe you have vanquished that particular foe!" You called.

"Ser Shieldove, there is an orange that I can't reach and it is the best one! I need it for Mama!" She yelled back, bouncing on her toes as she tried to jump for the fruit. You shook your head, making your way through the rows of trees to where she stood. 

The fruit was (probably) just within your grasp if you stood on your tiptoes and braced against the trunk of the tree. You stretched out your arm, reaching upwards and-

Someone's hands landed on your sides, pressing into your armor and lifting you with ease. You managed to grab the orange, laughing when you realized that it was Oberyn who had given you your boost. "Your highness! Thank you for your brave effort." You said with a grateful smile, tossing the orange to Dorea. The little girl tore off towards the blanket you had spread, hollering to the approaching Ellaria that she had the perfect orange for her.

You expected Oberyn to release you with some quip, but oddly, he did not. His touch was not particularly uncomfortable. Firm enough that you could feel it through your armor, but loose enough that you knew you could easily twist free should you desire to. In amongst the sheltering branches of the blood orange tree, the prince caged you against the trunk and studied you intently. 

"Your highness?" You asked softly. "We should return, the children are-" His mouth on your own halted your words and you went stiff. His kiss tasted of fresh blood orange, tangy with citrus and you found yourself enjoying it a fair bit more than you should have, your chest heaving against his own when he finally pulled away.

"My falcon, my dove, shield of the Red Viper's clutch." Oberyn breathed, his pupils blown in the green-dappled light beneath the tree's foliage. "Forgive my impudence. Seeing you with my children stirs my mind to such wicked thoughts."

"Prince Oberyn!" you protested, your traitorous body still reeling from his kiss. But no, you couldn't, Ellaria-- "Please, you must think of your family." You insisted tremulously. "I will not let you ruin the beautiful life you have built for yourself. This...affection, whatever it is you're feeling for me--" You sucked in a sharp breath. "It is nothing but a misplaced infatuation. It will pass. You must consider your children, your highness, a-and Lady Ellaria."

"You truly believe that?" Oberyn asked, but he didn't sound angry. If anything, he sounded hurt. "You believe that I would seek you out due to something so cheap as infatuation? What, simply to exercise the power I have over you?" You shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak. "Your silence is damning, Ser Shieldove. I would never try to wound Ellaria or my children, just as I would never try to wound you. I thought I had made that clear."

His hand carded delicately through your hair, tucking a few loose locks back into your braids. "I do not believe you would purposely seek to hurt me." You amended finally, your gaze firmly fixed on the toes of your boots. "Many men do not realize the harm they cause, either through their actions or their wandering eyes."

"I am not many men." Oberyn replied softly. "I have lain with both men and women, my falcon. I know well the pain of careless touch and I do not abide by it in my partners." He stepped away from you after a moment, shrugging. "If you are so concerned about my infatuation, mayhaps you ought to ask my paramour what she thinks of inviting you into our bedchambers?" He suggested with a feigned attitude of nonchalance.

"Are you mad? Obe-Prince Oberyn, you are hers. There are certain things that one does not do, even as a prince of Dorne." You snapped, your turmoil adding a sharp edge to your voice. 

Oberyn looked startled, then he had the audacity to grin. "I am hers, you say? You insinuate that I ought to receive permission? Then I'll go ask her now-"

"What? No, that's not it at--damn it, Oberyn, take this seriously!" You hissed, wanting to strangle him. "She has borne your children, have some respect for her and don't attempt to stray!"

Oberyn's laughter washed over you and you were torn between the urge to punch him in the gut and the urge to bury yourself alive. "Stray?" He finally sputtered. "Forgive my mirth, my falcon. I am...All I can say is that you really must speak with my paramour. I imagine the two of you will have a highly interesting discussion."

"Oh, of that I am certain." You said icily, stalking past him and heading towards the blanket where Ellaria played with the twins. You bowed stiffly and her eyebrow quirked, as if to ask what's wrong? "I will return to the water gardens, my lady. His highness appears to be in such ferociously high spirits I assume he will be more than up to the task of warding off any attackers."

"Do not leave, Ser Shieldove!" Oberyn boomed directly behind you, making you jump out of your skin. Gods, he could be so quiet! "I will maintain my composure, I give you my word!"

"It is not your composure I worry about." You shot back under your breath, making him struggle vainly to disguise his laughter as a coughing fit. 

Ellaria looked back and forth between her lover and you, her eyes dancing like they did when she and Oberyn enjoyed one of their many secret jokes. "I see you both have been sampling the oranges." She commented pointedly, tapping her lower lip while winking at you. "They do stain so beautifully, don't they lover?"

"But Ser Shieldove has not even had any yet!" Loreza said plaintively, the younger Sand's red-stained fingers tugging at Dorea's hand. "We should get her some."

"Aye, how is it that you have blood orange on your mouth and not a mark on your hands?" Oberyn asked playfully, as if he didn't already know, this was all his fault!

You were back to warring between the two urges and the option to punch Oberyn, while absolutely certain to lead to your immediate incarceration, was looking more appealing by the second. You set your jaw, willing away the tears that were trying to build as Loreza set off with Dorea in tow. "I am--I am leaving now." You said thickly, cursing yourself for the sob that blatantly hitched your words. 

Ellaria immediately noticed your discomfort, her smile vanishing. "Are you well, my dove?" You hiccupped roughly, nodding. Your performance wouldn't have fooled anyone, but Ellaria seemed to take pity on you and allowed you to dismiss yourself. 

You stalked off through the orchard, trying vainly to stem the flow of tears that poured down your face. You finally stopped beneath one of the many trees, sliding down the trunk and wrapping your arms around your knees so you could hide your face as you sobbed. It was incredibly unfair of Oberyn to tease you so maliciously, but what did you expect from a prince? No doubt to him, the common folks' feelings were nothing but toys. Your heart had soared and broken all at once, leaving you feeling bruised and aching. 

The summer of being wanted, desired by someone, the winter of knowing that giving in to them would destroy their happiness...

"Ser Shieldove!" You started, looking up. You hadn't noticed Loreza and Dorea returning from their hunt, the two girls arm-in-arm. "What happened? Did you get hurt?" Dorea asked worriedly, making your heart break all over again. "Should we get Mama?"

"Oh, no no!" You tried to assuage their concern, giving the two girls a watery smile while you cast your mind around for a suitable excuse. "I--I saw a bee."

"You're scared of bees?!" Loreza erupted incredulously. "I didn't think you were scared of anything!"

"Not even our papa!" Dorea paused, then added, "but I'm scared of bees too. I got stung once, on my foot. That's why I wear my big boots now." She said importantly, shuffling the aforementioned boots. They did look oversized for her stature. You had never noticed…

An orange was thrust at your face, Loreza blinking solemnly down at you. "We found you a good one. It's ripe, I promise." The two of them plopped down on either side of you like little sentries, Dorea brandishing her tiny morningstar. 

You turned the orange over and over in your hands. "You know, where I am from, these are only for royalty." You began suddenly, digging your nails into the peel. "I had never even touched one before I came to Dorne."

"Never?" Loreza gawked, her own cheeks smeared with red from her feast. "I love oranges. Kumquats. Grapefruits."

"Lemons are better than grapefruits. More spicy." Dorea said firmly. "Like dragon peppers."

"I don't like dragon peppers." Loreza retorted sulkily. "They burn my tongue." 

The two girls bickered around you while you slowly peeled and ate the fruit, your turbulent thoughts calming under the press of the mundane task. You felt foolish for letting your emotions get the best of you; obviously Oberyn only teased you because he knew he would get a reaction! You pushed away the memory of how gently he had tucked your hair back into its braids. It was probably a force of habit for him, having had so many daughters. It meant nothing. 

You tore apart the last two slices of orange and slurped the juice off the heel of your hand, realizing that Dorea and Loreza had gone quiet. A quick look confirmed your suspicions: the two of them were sound asleep. 

You exhaled through your nose, then settled back against the tree. You eased Loreza down into your lap, stroking over her hair absently. The little girl yawned, but did not move. Dorea slumped into your arm and you carefully wrapped it around her instead, keeping your hand on her shoulder so she didn't topple over. Your own eyelids grew heavy the longer you sat with the two little girls, though you knew you ought to be vigilant for any dangers that could be lurking. Worn out from your crying jag, you slipped from consciousness yourself. 

You were roused what must have been hours later by a cautious touch on your shoulder. You jerked awake, your hand flying to the pommel of your seldom-used sword. "Tis' only me, my dove." Ellaria soothed, her hand resting on your shoulder. "You did not make it back to the water gardens, I see." She nodded downwards at the sleeping child in your lap. 

The sun was hanging low and red on the horizon, casting a pink hue over the land. "Seems I didn't." You yawned indecently wide, then carefully hugged Dorea a bit closer. "The little ones found me an orange fit for royalty to eat, and we spoke of important matters." 

"Oh?" Ellaria arched a brow.

"Bees, my lady. We spoke of bees." 

"Have you found them, my love?" You heard footsteps approaching. "Ah! I should have known." Oberyn continued softly, obviously trying not to wake the twins that slumbered in his own arms. "Safe and sound asleep."

Ellaria roused her daughters, eventually permitting you to get to your feet and work the kinks out of your neck from sitting in such an awkward position for so long. "I believe we should speak." Ellaria murmured, placing her hand on your shoulder once again.

You shook your head violently. "There is naught to speak about, my lady. I assure you, I shall cause you no trouble." You knew that your tone was exceptionally weary, but you hoped she could forgive such indiscretion. 

"Listen to Ellaria, Ser Shieldove." Oberyn demanded. "This is a mistake-"

"I'm well aware that what occurred was a mistake." You interrupted him through gritted teeth. "And as I said, Prince Oberyn, I will cause no trouble for you or your lady."

Oberyn opened his mouth to retort but Ellaria gestured for him to be silent. "Tomorrow, then?" She phrased it like a request, but you knew better than to think you could refuse her.

You bowed perfectly, your form ramrod straight when you saluted her and the prince. Your words were dripping with false sincerity as you stated, "Of course, my lady. I live to serve."

…

The dread that you felt permeated your very marrow. You were certain you would be sent away. What else did one do with a member of their household who was untrustworthy, especially if their partner proved they could not or would not stay away from such temptations?

This was surely the end of your proud career under the banner of House Martell. You were a fool for thinking that you could have been happy here.

You packed your few possessions with an air of sorrowful finality. You hadn't acquired much during your time in these lodgings, your living space admittedly Spartan. When you were summoned, the manservant found you sitting patiently on your bed in your armor, your satchel slouched on the floor. 

"Ser Shieldove, Ellaria Sand requests your presence." The older man droned, raising an eyebrow at your state of preparedness.

You nodded, trying not to let your apprehension show as you thanked him and proceeded out into the hall. Your boots felt like they were lined with lead and your eyes stung from all the heartsick weeping you had done the night before. Your stomach would not cease feverishly knotting. 

All too soon you found yourself at the door to the prince's chambers, raising your hand to knock. You hesitated momentarily, flattening your palm on the door and then resting your forehead against the intricate latticework. Your shoulders heaved with a single, soundless sob before you straightened back up. You would face this trial like all the others in your life, with some bare shred of dignity.

You knocked on the door. Upon hearing Ellaria's voice bidding you to enter, you unhitched the latch and let the door swing open. You ought to have known that Oberyn would be present as well. You weren't sure why seeing him standing on their terrace felt so...final. 

"Ser Shieldove, you come dressed for war." Ellaria remarked, sounding surprised. "Please, set your bag and blade by the door."

"I sought to make my dismissal simple, my lady." Your voice rasped in your throat when you spoke. You made no move to come further into the room, nor did you release your hold on your bag. "We do not need to drag this out, especially not from some misguided desire to soften the blow."

Oberyn turned to look at you, his brow furrowed. But you only had eyes for Ellaria, the woman rising from her vanity to pad barefoot across the floor to you. She stood before you, unarmed, unafraid, her hair still loose around her face. "Why do you believe you were brought here for dismissal, my sweet dove?" Ellaria asked. Gods, gods, her tenderness was going to reave your soul from your body.

You swallowed hard. "I...forgive me, my lady. Please, forgive me. I was weak and permitted my emotions to get the better of me. I did not firmly reprimand Prince Oberyn when he kissed me in the orchard. I take full responsibility for my failure." You bowed your head in grief, your dry eyes burning. "I will not bring shame to your family with my indiscretion, so I come willingly to my dismissal."

"She kisses like a virgin, Ellaria." Oberyn murmured, a hand cupping his paramour's hip and tucking her into his side. "She kisses like she has never been kissed. It was divine."

You flushed hotly, certain that he was mocking you. "I cannot believe your cruelty." You muttered incredulously. "To jest about something like that!"

"Is it true, my little dove?" Ellaria purred, her hand stroking your cheek. "Do you kiss like a virgin?" You stared at her, thoroughly confused now. You did not even notice her other hand cupping your face, utterly transfixed by how close she was. She was so near that you could see there were tiny flecks of gold in the brown of her irises. 

And then she kissed you. 

Your satchel fell off your shoulder, hitting the floor with a muffled thud when you reached out clumsily, gathering the other woman in your arms. She let you, she let you, gods, she was kissing you and that was her tongue teasing your own. You whimpered into her mouth, bewildered and helpless to resist her. 

"I think you are right, lover." Ellaria agreed after she took pity on you and allowed you a moment to breathe. "Hot and trembling and yet so, so eager."

"I...do not understand." You said weakly.

"Oberyn and I found long ago that we share certain proclivities, my dove." Ellaria explained, toying with your hair. "Particularly in the bedroom."

You felt like your mind couldn't catch up to your mouth, stammering, "S-So...wait, the both of you…?" 

Oberyn, his chin resting on Ellaria's shoulder, gave you a sly wink. "Aye, my love has excellent taste." The man tugged Ellaria's dressing gown to the side, baring her shoulder so he could shower it with kisses. "We have a special affinity for strapping, chivalrous types."

"So I'm not...I wouldn't...the-the both of you would know about me?" You stuttered.

"What do you mean, my falcon?" Oberyn asked curiously. 

"Well, I just...I assumed you were seeking me out as a--a secret. Something akin to adultery." Your voice faltered a bit. "B-Behind Lady Ellaria's back." You watched as understanding appeared to dawn on the prince, his brow furrowing darkly.

"Oh no, no no, gentle dove." Ellaria cupped your face with her hands. "We indulge together and we indulge openly. You would not be Oberyn's secret plaything." She assured you sincerely.

"Forgive me, I did not mean to imply that I think so little of you!" You apologized to Oberyn, who still looked somewhat thunderous. "I was distraught and confused, your highness. You know well that I have been wounded before. Please, please forgive me." You wrung your hands fervently. "I would do anything to-"

"Be still, my falcon. You protest overmuch." Oberyn chided, his expression clearing. "If you believe that your simple misunderstanding grieved me, I should hope that you never heard all the terrible, salacious rumors spread about me in King's Landing!" He smirked. "Such imaginative people."

"They certainly had a strange way of slandering you." Ellaria remarked, her lips twitching into a wry smile. "Do you remember what they said about your cock?"

"Oh that one was my favorite." Oberyn, no doubt noticing your horrified look, began to laugh in earnest. "There was a rumor that my cock was the same as a horse's, you understand." He finally managed to explain. "Length, girth, a hearty amount of description went into this tale. I feared I would disappoint, after hearing such an inventive story about myself! Mercifully, none of the lovely women and men in the brothel seemed particularly distressed about me lacking a cock that would outright murder them. One poor girl swooned from relief, timid thing."

"Oh dear." You said faintly. "I mean, the rumors are not wholly unfounded, but perhaps slightly less exaggeration-" You halted abruptly with a sharp squeak of dismay, what had you just said?!

"Flatterer! Always, it's in your blood I'd wager!" Oberyn chuckled, shaking his head. "I believe it is due more to my age, prolific partners and casual promiscuity. No one there could fathom such a thing, though in Dorne we view it as a common practice. That and the unwavering love I had for all my daughters. They claimed I was barking mad. Surely, I ought to be cursing the Seven every time a new girl was born." He scoffed derisively, blowing a raspberry as though he was a child. "Instead of being delighted with a healthy babe to love and spoil, sing songs to and dandle upon my knee. Aye, Prince Oberyn is surely mad."

His hand reached out to cover Ellaria's on your cheek and you closed your eyes, leaning into their joint touch. 

"Gods, is she not the loveliest woman you have ever laid eyes on?" Oberyn mused softly.

"Truly. So strong and brave!" Ellaria answered, making you flush with embarrassment and stare downwards. "Do not shy from such ardent words, my dove! They are spoken in truth, I promise you."

"I do not doubt your sincerity, my lady! It is just...it is overwhelming." You replied honestly. "A part of me is still that terrified woman from King's Landing, trying to barter for passage aboard any vessel willing to take me. That I would be rescued by the two of you…I never could have imagined this, even in my wildest dreams."

"It was a lucky chance that my dear Oberyn spotted you."

"I'd surmise more divine providence, but all the same." You smiled. "Thank you. Both of you. I...I know not what to say."

"Join us in our bed, gentle dove." Oberyn requested, his voice deadly serious. "Join us, my falcon." His hand slid beneath your chin, tugging lightly at your gorget and no doubt feeling your rough swallow. "Let us give you something good to think of on lonely nights when duty calls you elsewhere."

"I--I-I would very much like that, your highness." You whispered. 

His fingers hitched your chin, tipping it upwards so he could see your eyes. "Oberyn." He said softly.

"Oberyn." You allowed yourself to say his name deliberately and he grinned, tugging at your chin playfully before he released you and stepped back.

Ellaria caught his hand, and then extended her own to you. "Leave your sword, my dove."

"The armor as well." Oberyn added, his smile growing wider by the moment as you began to hurriedly oblige. You were thankful that the leathers slid off over your head, but the chainmail shirt took a bit more twisting and turning for you to emerge safely. "Gods, look at her, my love." Oberyn sighed to Ellaria after you had fought your way free of the mail, "the pride of her, the way she stands. I would happily cultivate such splendor."

"You did, Oberyn." You pointed out, fumbling with your cuisses. "You granted me the opportunity, after all."

"Let me help you, my dove." Ellaria murmured, her hands covering your own. You grimaced uncertainly, glancing to Oberyn. "He told me of your markings. I am no pampered princess, Shieldove." The steel in her gaze was undeniable; she dared you to think she would cringe at the sight of your scars. "I bear many of my own marks. The life of a Sand is better than most, but still fraught with its own hardships."

You nodded jerkily, letting her assist you with removing your cuisses, greaves and sword belt before she ran her hand over the laces at your groin. You swallowed hard. "I do not wish to distress you, my lady."

"Only Ellaria here, my dove. Here and everafter." The woman said, her fingers tugging the laced placket loose.

Oberyn sauntered up beside her as she slid her palm to your hip, fingers spread on the hot skin she found there. "Your consent, my falcon?" He breathed against your jaw, placing a trail of kisses over the area. "I seek your enthusiastic consent. I seek to have you undone and crying out in rapture, but first your consent." 

Ellaria's fingers teased at the waistband of your hose and you shut your eyes, gathering your courage. "Yes. Yes, I...I want. I want you both." You managed to say. 

"Open your eyes, knight of House Martell." Oberyn ordered and you obeyed meekly. The prince touched his forehead to your own, his brows pulled low. "Your consent, Ser Shieldove. Look at me while you give it. Look at her while you give it. We need to know. We need to hear it from your lips. No hesitation."

"We will stop if you cannot consent, sweet dove." Ellaria assured you. 

"N-No! No, I do want this, I swear I do. Gods, my head is spinning from how much I want the two of you." You confessed bluntly. "I am unsure of how to proceed. I do not know what to do. Forgive my inexperience." You held out your hands imploringly. "Show me what to do?"

"Never apologize for not knowing." Oberyn said firmly. "All man should ever apologize for is not being willing to learn." He stroked his fingers over your temple, light as a feather's touch on your skin. "And you are so, so willing." He whispered. "You have sought learning your whole life, my dove. Sought to hone your body, hone your spirit with songs and prayer. You have learned how to wield our weapons and cradle our babes with the same willingness that you approach us with now."

Ellaria enfolded your hands in her own as you processed Oberyn's words, each one saved in your heart like a precious treasure. All man should ever apologize for is not being willing to learn. "Will you…" you hesitated, biting your lip. "Will you help me learn?"

"Gods, I would eagerly kiss the breath from your chest." Ellaria sighed, her smile warming you from head to toe. 

"Is it...considered strange that I want the both of you?" You asked warily. "I have never lain with a woman before, b-but I would...I mean, if I could, I would like...I would like to. Attempt to! That is." You fumbled, kissing her knuckles afterwards.

"You wish to drink from the pure springs of my paramour? A bold request. What will you offer me in return for my generosity?" Oberyn's lips brushed your ear and you quivered when he continued, "will you let me touch you as you touch her, my falcon?"

You raised your eyes to meet his, startled by the heat you found there. Did he really feel that strongly about you? You freed one hand from Ellaria and reached out to take hold of his light robe. "If you harm me-" You began to warn him, your voice catching in your throat.

"Sweet dove, he will not." Ellaria assured you, her expression serious. "Neither of us will. I promise you." She cupped your jaw, her thumbs grazing your chin achingly soft. "We of Dorne are known for our passion, but a fire is gentle embers before it is stoked to hungry flame. We will not harm you."

"This incredible, delicious display of vulnerability that you are presenting to us...well, it would be wholly inappropriate to squander such a gift." Oberyn's hand covered yours on his robe, larger fingers lacing easily through your own. "We will bed you, and we will love you, my falcon."

"Do you offer such pleasures to all your knights?" You queried, half in jest as you let him lead you to their sun-drenched bed. 

"Only for the ones who break the Mountain's fingers." Oberyn chuckled, leaving you and Ellaria to settle onto the bed while he went to draw the thin curtains over the entrance to the terrace. 

Ellaria pulled one end of the laces on your placket, her motions teasingly slow and deliberate. The lacing unwound itself, tugging free of the grommets until your sturdy hose were slouching open. Her hand pushed your tunic up slightly, enough to reveal a sliver of your stomach for her to graze her knuckles against, then her lips. Those fingers curled around the hem of your tunic, continuing to drag it upwards to bunch underneath your breasts. 

"Her body looks beautiful like that, my love." Oberyn commented idly from his position at the foot of the bed. "Ser Shieldove, touch her hair, caress her. She loves to be touched while her mouth is occupied."

Your trembling fingers barely grazed Ellaria's luxuriously unbound locks, still smooth from being brushed, and you felt your heartbeat quicken in your chest. "May I…?" Ellaria nodded and you dug your hands greedily into her soft waves, half-sitting so you could press a lock to your lips. "Thank you, Ellaria."  You whispered. 

"Such chivalry! Perhaps we will consider parting with a few locks for you to carry into battle as a token of our affection." Oberyn kissed the crown of your head. "Regrettably, my curls are a bit shorter than hers."

"Mm, yours would make such delightful paintbrushes." Ellaria teased, continuing to cover the skin of your stomach with tender kisses and nips. She bit down gently on the waistband of your hose, looking up at you in question. You nodded rapidly and Oberyn settled into the bed alongside you, the man yawning wide. 

"Watch her now, my falcon." He instructed, his fingers tracing lazy circles on the bare skin of your stomach before this thumb slid beneath your bunched-up tunic. "She is such art, the way she moves. Had I the skill for it, I would write endless poems about the beautiful anticipation she inspires in me." His touch was light, teasing, forefinger and thumb pinched into the fabric of your tunic to ease it off the rest of the way. His other hand shot up to lift and cradle the back of your neck while he divested you of the article of clothing, the inconsequential motion new and gentle to you.

Ellaria rolled the hosiery off down your legs, the light breeches sticking to your heated skin. You were left nearly bare, the only garment still on your body the simple breast binding you used when you were armored. Ellaria hummed in satisfaction, drawing her hands greedily up your trembling form to seize the edge of your bindings. "Be naked for us, gentle dove." She crooned, her sweet voice dissolving your last fear. You placed your hands over her own, helping her to untie the frantically-knotted cloth.

Oberyn hissed out a breath through his teeth when your breasts were finally freed. "Gods, you were made for us." He groaned, "I want to grab handfuls of you and gorge myself on your taste, my falcon." 

Ellaria wasted no time flicking her tongue over the stiff peak of your right breast, smiling when you threw your head back in response. Oberyn lapped sloppily over your left breast and then blew gently on the damp trail, forcing you to bite down on the heel of your palm to keep from making a sound.

Oberyn eased your hand away from your mouth however, grimacing when he saw the marks your teeth had left in the skin. His facial hair felt like pinpricks when he kissed your palm, his eyes solemn. "We crave your sounds, my falcon. We welcome them." He murmured. "You can be as loud or as soft as you want, but do not smother them before they can blossom."

Ellaria toyed with your nipple, rolling her index finger back and forth over it and you whimpered pitifully, blinking back the tears that rose and nodding hard. "I will try, Oberyn."

"It will take time, sweet dove." Ellaria's gentle smile pierced your heart, her soft words contrasting so vividly with her devious fingers. "Do not underestimate our patience. You are our knight, our shield, and we will cherish you as you ought to have been cherished."

Part Three

[realityhelixcreates]

Dance of the Spheres Chapter 3: Mercurian Merengue

Chapters: 3/?

Fandom:  Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: PG 13

Warnings: drugging, kidnapping, forced marriage

Characters: Loki(Marvel),

Additional Tags:  Loki Goes Overboard, But When Doesn’t Loki go Overboard, Mature Reader, Disabled Reader, Political Intrigue

Summary:  

Starlight

I will be chasing a starlight

For the rest of my life

I don’t know if it’s worth it anymore

Our hopes and expectations

Black holes and revalations

                                           Muse-Starlight

You awoke in tremendous pain. That wasn't actually too unusual; you'd run out of your pain medication recently, and hadn't had the money to refill your prescription. It was far worse today though, and you groaned. It felt as if you had been dragged backwards down a flight of stairs.

You were having a hard time moving, like you were trying to swim through thick mud. Limbs heavy, and bones feeling like plastic, you rolled onto your side.

You were still wearing your leg. Weird. You almost never fell asleep with that thing on anymore. You must have had one hell of a night. Where had you been?

That's right! Your spineless boss had fired you. Fuck. Had you gotten wasted or something?

No.

No, those G-men had nabbed you! They drugged you with something. No wonder you were so sore and groggy: You were wasted, and those assholes had probably handled you like a sack of potatoes. You were likely covered in bruises now.

You slowly pried your eyes open to be met with an unfamiliar, dimly lit room, mostly unfurnished and uniform. There were no windows, but two doors; one open and leading to what appeared to be a restroom, and one closed.

There was an end table next to you that looked to be made of stone, with shelves carved into it. A cup of water and a plate with apple slices rested atop it. You were suddenly overtaken with hunger and thirst, having no idea how long you'd been asleep. You snatched up a slice of apple and stuffed it in your mouth, swinging your legs over the side of the bed.

The bed was also made of stone, though covered with a soft mattress and warm blankets. You didn't see your cane anywhere. The bastards probably left it in the alley. You leaned against the wall instead. It was also stone, as was the floor. Everything in the room, in fact, aside from the apple, water, mattress, pillow, and blankets, was made of stone blocks, flawlessly smooth and perfect. It was a creamy gray-white mostly, with a line of pale orange blocks at about hip level.

The light came from hidden fixtures, affixed into the walls near the ceiling, covered with what appeared to be carved panels of cloudy crystal. It was lovely, and very foreign.

Where were you? You shoved more apple in your mouth, and took a swig of the water.

How odd. The apple was truly delicious, better than any you'd ever had. The water tasted of absolutely nothing. The room also smelled of nothing, nor did the hospital gown you realized you were wearing. You had been changed while you slept. Distressing.

You sat back down on the bed and ate. The apple was gone all too soon, but you were still hungry. That was nothing new. In your life, sometimes it came down to medical expenses or food. At least you'd had an apple and a cup of water. In a situation as uncertain as this, you would be glad to have had it.

But why were you here? Those two men had kidnapped you, for sure, but to what end? What for? Because you were an agitator? You'd heard stories recently about community organizers being targeted, grabbed off the streets and tossed into vans, or yanked from their own homes in the middle of the night. You weren't important like that though. You didn't organize, you just marched. You had no power, no voice, no following. You just marched. You'd borne the brunt of police brutality along with thousands of your fellows across the country, but it wasn't as if anybody knew your name.

Why had they taken you? And so violently? So brazenly? What did they want from you?

There was a light knock at the door, and you jumped in surprise, toppling over with a curse. Two people rushed into the room, and to your side, expressing concern. You flailed at them, trying to bat them away until you realized they were attempting to help you. You allowed them to haul you to the bed and sat yourself down.

“Who are you?” You demanded. “What do you want from me?”

They were children, basically. A girl and boy, teenagers. The boy had a basket on his back.

“I'm Bjarkhilde. This is Andvarri. I am an apprentice healer, and he is an artificer.”

“I've come to measure your leg, my lady.” Andvarri said politely, setting his basket on the stone end table. “We intend to make you a new one. Lighter, more functional.”

“M-my leg? A new leg? Why?” This was baffling. Why kidnap you, just to send children to see to your medical needs? “No...No. Don't touch me. What do you actually want? Who do you work for?”

The teenagers glanced at each other in clear confusion.

“We work for...the healers? And the artificers?” Bjarkhilde said.

“And ultimately the Crown?”

“What crown? What do you want? I said don't touch me! Get away from me! I'm not giving you anything!” You snapped, slapping their hands away.

Bjarkhilde grabbed Andvarri and his basket.

“We should come back later.” She said, dragging him back out the door.

It was fine. You didn't trust them. They worked for whoever had kidnapped you. You didn't owe them the time of day.

You didn't even know the time of day.

The outburst had left you worn out, that and all the sudden movement, and whatever drug was left in your system. You sat back down on the bed, head swimming. Were there guards outside the door? It didn't seem to be locked. Maybe you could find a nurse and ask for help.

You hobbled to the door, out into the hallway. But the sudden brightness of the lights out there hit you like a punch in the head, and you stumbled.

Someone caught you before your face smashed on the stone floor.

“Careful love.” That someone said. You blinked, eyes dazzled. “You might not be in the right shape for exertion just yet.” The voice was low, and carried the echo of a growl, but no anger. Whoever it was lifted you effortlessly into his arms, and carried you back to the stone bed and the dim light.

“Oh, you've already eaten the whole thing.” He said. He must have meant the apple. “That was faster than I expected. I would have liked to feed it to you myself, but...Oh well. This will speed things along, though it might be more unpleasant than it would have been if you'd eaten it over the course of a few days.”

“What are you talking about?” You demanded. He had taken a seat on the stone block end table, a crow against the creamy walls. Or maybe a magpie, as he was pale about the face and hands, but black accented with green everywhere else.

“I've given you a gift.” he said with a little smile, but gave no other information.

You scooted to the opposite side of the bed.

“Where am I?”

He blinked, the smile fading. “You are in Asgard, of course.”

The words almost slid off of you, they were so ridiculous. Asgard? Asgard was a mystery. It barely existed. It was nothing more than a collection of cosmic refugees who had been granted land to rebuild by the U.N.-but no one seemed to know where. No one was reporting new neighbors building alien architecture. No extraterrestrials were walking into local coffee shops after a long day of work. No one even knew where they could be. Even the remotest islands could be contacted, even Antarctica could be seen on Google Maps. But the greater public had found nothing.

The Asgardians had a spaceship that came for supplies every now and then, but it seemed to have some kind of invisibility device, because as soon as it lifted above the clouds, it would disappear, undetectable by telescope or radar, to fly off to whatever secret stronghold they had been granted. No one was able to trace its movements back to its home.

It made sense, of course. If Asgard wasn't hidden, they would be plagued constantly, by curious humans, by horny humans, by worshipful humans, by hateful humans, by vengeful humans. Asgard was a source of great controversy. The people of the God-Hero Thor, greatly beloved and celebrated. But also the people of the Mad Conqueror Loki, loathed and feared. What if more of these Asgardians turned out to be like him? That was the great worry of most of Asgard's detractors. What if there were more Lokis? Even though Loki had been declared dead years ago, what if he had a following?

“Why am I in Asgard? Why did you kidnap me?”You demanded. What could Asgard possibly want with you? It made no sense at all.

The magpie's eyebrows were practically beetled now. “Kidnapped? You were kidnapped? By whom?”

“What do you mean 'by whom'? By you! Your goons!”

“I don't have goons! And I didn't authorize any kidnapping! I thought it was just some Earth custom!”

“Earth custom? Custom for what? Why could Asgard possibly want some drugged out woman? Wait, are you after human slaves?”

“No!”

“You are, aren't you? Well guess what, fucker; you got fleeced. Whatever you paid for me, it was too much! I'm completely worthless!” You yanked up the hem of your hospital gown. “Check that out, eh? No leg! And on top of that, I'm incredibly disagreeable! No friends! No cheery personality! Totally worthless. Good job, asshole! You're getting nothing outta me!”

“Don't say that.” He said, rounding the bed. You scooted back to the other side.

“Sucks to be robbed, doesn't it?” You taunted.

“No, don't say you're worthless. You're not worthless!” He insisted.

“You don't know that. You don't know anything about me.”

“I know you are strong and resilient. You walk on a leg that isn't there, like an Asgardian warrior. Are you in pain? Please, we can make medicine for you. Let me help you!”

“You just stay over there!” You pointed at him, as if to keep him at arm's length. It worked too; he came no closer than the end of your fingertip. “If I'm not a slave, then I've got rights. You owe me big time, buster! You owe me answers!”

“Anything you want.” He said, hands up in front of him in a placating gesture.

“Alright. We'll start with...Who are you?”

He gave you an absolutely dumbfounded look.

“You don't know? How can you not know? Did they tell you nothing?”

“I already said I was kidnapped! You think I had a nice conversation with them?”

He shook his head, disbelieving. “Something is very wrong. Please, will you tell me what happened? From your perspective.”

“My perspective? Hmph.” This guy was acting so clueless, it was almost insulting. “From my perspective, I went into work in the morning, and by noon, I'd been fired. My boss said it was because of my arrest record, but it wasn't.”

“Arrest record?” Now he sounded scandalized.

“It was bullshit. I was at a march a couple months ago, and one of the cops sent to break it up shoved past me and tripped on some garbage. Started shouting that I'd knocked him down. Me! He dropped me on my ass and started hitting me with my own cane. Right up until my leg came off, which I guess startled him, because he stopped doing it. His buddies still came over and arrested me. Against the law to get my own ass beat, I guess. They let me go the next day, because there were a thousand phones on them and the video was everywhere, from all angles. Still had to fight to get my leg and cane back. Damn cane was a little bent since then, but it's gone now.”

The man simply stared at you, expression of shocked outrage stretching his features.

“Your lawkeepers attacked you for no reason?”

“Oh no, there was absolutely a reason. To send a message. 'You aren't people, and we will hurt you to keep it that way'. They've been sending that message for decades, but they've really ramped it up over the past couple presidential administrations.”

“Unacceptable.”

“True. But it's a lie. That's not why I got fired, or else it would have happened after I was released. No, I was fired because two MIBs came in and said so.”

“MIBs?” The mans slowly growing confusion was reaching his voice now, driving it upward.

“Men in Black. Nameless, no I.D. government agents, meant to be secret and interchangeable. They came in about lunchtime and pressured my boss to fire me. And he caved fast.”

“The spineless wretch!”

“That's what I thought too! Lower and middle management are a bunch of wet noodles. Mouthpieces. So I grabbed my stuff and left. That bitch Betty smirking the whole way.”

“Betty?”

“Don't worry about her; her kids are all gonna leave and never talk to her again as soon as they turn eighteen. But those sleazy G-men stalked me, and dragged me into an alley, and drugged me. And then I woke up here. In...Asgard? You said Asgard, but why? Why would anyone in Asgard wanna kidnap me? I'm no one worth kidnapping. I'm not even worth selling, especially not to some fairy tale kingdom. Why am I here? Tell me why I'm here!”

The strange magpie man had slowly sunk down to sit on the opposite end of the bed-still at arms length-and picked at his palms, staring down at them like he was about to cry.

“This is terribly wrong.” He said quietly. “It wasn't supposed to happen like this. I don't understand. This was a clear attempt at reconciliation, a grand opportunity to form powerful links between our peoples. Why sabotage that? Why do this? You are not even related to your nation's ruler, are you?”

“We don't have a ruler!” You insisted. “We have a temporary leader who is supposed to be democratically elected! I don't care what that guy thinks, we are going to keep fighting his takeover at every turn! And no, I'm not related to that dictator wannabe, I think I'd die of shame!”

“I see...so it was a sham from the beginning. I have been duped by your shame leader. I, of all people. And what of you, my dear? Caught up in all this, without any choice of your own. But it's already done. I can't take it back now. What terrible situation have we put you in?”

“That's what I'd like to know.” You said. He sounded remorseful, but he still hadn't answered your questions. “Who are you, and what is all this about?”

“My dear. My poor, sweet dear. I am so sorry. I can't undo it now. Please, please, I know this may come as a shock, but please do not be afraid.”

“Way too late.”

“I know. I know. I'm sorry.” He stood, formal and imposing. “My name is Loki; I am the Crown Prince of Asgard. And I asked not for a slave, but for a bride.”