#nor is everything resolved - not by a long shot

[mint-yooxgi]

{6} - Fight or Flight - Yandere!Redcap!Mingi X Tall!Chubby!Reader - Final

Fae!AU & Yandere!AU - Part of the CoDN Thrill of the Hunt Collab

Genre: Fantasy, Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Pairing: Mingi X Reader

Words: 16,687

Rating: Mature - 18+ MDNI

Warnings: Please read the warnings carefully, as this is a very heavy story dealing with many dark topics. This is also all of the warnings for this fic as it is one long one shot that I had to split into multiple parts, and I'm too tired right now to individually categorize all of these warnings to their respective parts. 8 ft tall Mingi. Slow burn. Violence: depiction of a massacre, a deer being slaughtered, as well as physical, verbal, sexual, and emotional, both alluded to and not. Blood and gore. Abuse: physical, emotional, verbal, and sexual, both alluded to and implied. Assault: physical, and sexual, both alluded to, implied, and attempted. OC has a really rough past, really this isn't for the faint of heart. Whipping, both alluded to, and done. Mentions of branding. Heavy themes of possession and ownership. Deception. Arson. Really, there's a lot of dark subject matter. Mingi falls hard and fast, thus, he simps a lot for the OC, but it's not a story written by me if Mingi doesn't simp for the OC. The reader is mentioned to be both tall and chubby, but it is not mentioned often, so it shouldn't disrupt the flow of the story when ready if you are not tall and/or chubby. I think that's everything, but if I missed something, please let me know! Smut: Biting/marking, outdoor sex, fingering (fem. rec), oral (fem. rec), hand job (male rec), come eating, overstimulation, Mingi has a dig bick, sex in a spring, really, it's very soft in comparison to the subject matter. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

P.S. If there are any spelling or grammatical errors, please ignore them. I did my best through many rounds of editing, but some are liable to still slip through.

A/n: I am SO sorry this took me LITERALLY forever to complete. I meant to have this out so much earlier, and actually posted on time, but it turned out much, much longer than I ever anticipated it being. I'm really proud of how this story turned out, and I didn't want to split it into multiple parts because I felt it would take away from the story as a whole. I'm super excited for you all to read this one, as I had a tremendous amount of fun writing it, and I really hope you all love Mingi's and OC's journey as much as I do. Huge shoutout and thanks to @anyamaris and @kwanisms for listening to me ramble and rave about this story both before and during the writing process, and for always encouraging me while writing! Also, huge thank you to @sanjoongie for being so patient and understanding with me as I write this all out in full. I hope you all enjoy! As always feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

Summary: Out of one horrible situation and into another, the cycle of abuse never stops. You've lived with monsters your whole life. So, what's one more?

P.P.S. Please don't let this flop guys. If you enjoyed it, please reblog!!!

Mini Masterlist - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five

The village is eerily quiet. Not a single lamp is lit, nor even a breeze drifts through the dark stillness of the night as a singular shadow creeps through the streets. It’s almost as if the inhabitants no longer reside in the town as they all rest in their beds, unaware of the raging storm that approaches with every step.

Mingi’s resolve is deadly calm. That red sash covers his forehead, tying his hair back to keep it out of his face for what he prepares to do.

He left you back in his realm, nestled up under that tree by the spring. Sure, he may have stretched the truth a little bit about the tea, but he didn’t want you waking up while he was gone. At least he knows this way you’ll also sleep through the night, his glamour that he left on you protecting you from prying eyes.

There is no limit to his fury, sharp eyes blazing beneath the light of the moon as he stalks through the town centre. He’s always been good at tracking, and he makes sure to put his skills to good use this night as his gaze zeros in on the large house on top of the hill. 

You were right, this is quite a small town. No more than about sixty inhabitants. Surprisingly, no children. A fact which will only make his job here much easier.

Stealth is his top priority right now as he covers ground with each step, plotting out every escape route and figuring out how best to bottleneck his prey into his awaiting trap.

As the moon crests high in the sky, a true monster gets unleashed.

Shrill screams of pure terror fill the air as claws render flesh from bone. Blood splatters against walls, painting the night in crimson florals, the heavy stench of death permeating the air. No matter how desperately they plead for their lives, none survive, and by the time Mingi makes it up the hill, he is covered in viscera from his brutal kills.

The most satisfying death, he saves for last.

Mingi knows the man can hear him coming. The shrieks from the town down below would’ve reached his ears by now, filling him with a sense of dread. There is no escaping the hunt, and your husband is about to find out what it truly means to be reduced to absolutely nothing.

The sound of the door shattering as it gets kicked in causes the already pertinent fear Mingi can smell radiating through the house spike. The man cowers pathetically in his room, the exits having long since been sealed by the fae in preparation for the decimation that is about to take place.

Stepping through the doorway, Mingi stands there, letting the light from the moon illuminate his massive figure. The way the man screams in horror when he sees Mingi’s blood-soaked appearance only causes a malicious grin to pull at the redcap’s lips.

“Found you.” Mingi’s expression is downright maniacal, his eyes glinting wildly in the darkness.

The man cowers back, attempting to push himself further into the wall as Mingi takes a menacing step forward.

“Who sent you?” His voice is frantic, eyes wide with tears as they begin to spill down his face. “What do you want?”

Mingi’s grin stretches wider across his features, his tongue darting out to taste the blood covering his lips. “I’m here to collect on a debt.”

“A debt?” The man frowns, heart rate accelerating in panic.

“You hurt something of mine,” Mingi’s voice is but a low drawl as he stalks towards the shaking man huddled in the corner. “Something very precious to me.”

“Is it money? Money that you want?” The man’s eyes dart every which way around the room, looking for a possible exit. “I can give you all the riches you desire-“

“Stupid human.” Mingi hisses. “As if money could ever pay for the life you stole.”

There is no escape. Not now. Not ever. Especially not for this coward.

“What are you-“ Confusion tugs at the man’s brow for a brief moment before realization is settling over his features. “That bitch! She sent you!”

In the blink of an eye, Mingi has him pinned against the wall by the throat. The force at with he pins the man causes cracks to appear in the plaster, chunks falling to the ground in a rain of dust.

“Speak of her like that again, and I will ensure to draw this out for as long as possible.” The words are but a low growl on Mingi’s lips, claws digging into the skin of the man’s throat.

Desperately, the man begins to struggle. His hands attempt to tear Mingi’s own from his throat, clawing at the fae uselessly as his legs kick in the air.

“What did that whore promise you?” The man chokes out, struggling for breath. “One round with that cunt and you’re ready to kill for her?”

Mingi snarls, tightening his grip over the man’s throat as his vile blood begins to coat his hands.

“I bet she’s making you work for it. That’s why you’re doing this, isn’t it?” The man taunts, blood beginning to spill from his lips as Mingi nearly slams him through the wall a second time. “Stupid fucking whore was the easiest lay I ever had in my life. I feel bad for you. She normally spreads her legs for any man-“

“I am not a man.”

The words are spat out harshly, Mingi throwing the man behind him onto the floor. A satisfying crack echoes throughout the room, and the man cradles his one wrist to his chest, whimpering pathetically.

A wild grin stretches across blood red lips, eyes crazed as Mingi looks at the human from over his shoulder.

“Run, little rabbit,” Mingi’s voice drawls lowly, fangs glinting in the moonlight. “The beast wants to play.”

Without hesitating, the man scrambles to his feet, darting out of the open door of his room. Mingi can hear his laboured breathing as he nearly trips down the stairs, and the fae cannot help but laugh.

Little does this human know what Mingi has in store for him.

Slowly, Mingi begins creeping out of the room, and down the stairs. Once he reaches the bottom, he tears a wooden post from the banister, snapping it near the tip. He tests the point against the pad of his thumb, humming to himself as he stalks outside.

Desperately, the man scrambles to get away, nearly tripping over his own two feet.

Spinning that pole in his hand, Mingi reels back. The rod strikes like lighting through the air, hitting its intended target and causing the man to go tumbling the rest of the way down the hill.

An ominous hum is all the man hears approaching him as he attempts to crawl away. His hands tear through the dirt, uprooting the grass as he tries, and fails, to pull himself towards the edge of the woods and to a false sense of safety.

A sharp cry of pain rings out through the night air as Mingi steps on the back of the man’s calf, right where that wooden bannister now protrudes.

“And here I thought you would put up more of a fight,” Mingi hums, almost disappointedly. “Pathetic.”

A satisfying snap echoes through his ears, and the man shrieks as his tibia breaks from the force of Mingi’s full weight stepping onto it.

“I suppose we won’t need this anymore,” Mingi say lowly, tearing the wooden post from the man’s shin and snapping it in further half.

Another scream pierces the air as the man’s hands get pinned to the earth using each half of the now split banister. His legs uselessly kick out behind him, stuck flat against the ground on his stomach as whimpers and pleas to spare his life fall on deaf ears.

Reaching down, Mingi tears open the back of the man’s shirt, exposing his bare flesh. A sick, twisted grin cuts itself onto his features as he runs a clawed hand over the unmarred skin, and he feels the man shudder in terror beneath him.

“What are you-“

A sharp cry of pain causes the man to cut his words short. Mingi, having stood back to his full height, snapped the man’s other ankle, crushing it with his foot.

For a frightening long moment, all is silent. Not even the trees sway with a breeze, nor does a single creature make a sound. The weight disappears from the man’s foot, and the ominous chill that creeps down his spine only makes waiting to see what happens to him next all the more horrible. All that can be heard are the man’s desperate and miserable whimpers, begging to be set free.

A sharp snapping sound, like thin leather suddenly being pulled taunt, silences the man’s pleas. Cold, dreaded realization settles deep within his core, and he begins thrashing violently at the fae’s feet.

The world stops.

“For My Beloved Blossom.”

The sharp crack of the whip slices through the air.

Once.

Twice.

As many times as it takes until Mingi is satisfied.

Flesh renders from bone, blood splattering the once green earth bright red, and splattering all over his face. His features are schooled into a look of pure concentration, anger radiating off of him in waves as he finally shreds this disgusting excuse of a creature apart.

The stench of blood fills his burning lungs, pieces of bone chipping amongst the torn flesh with every strike. Chunks of skin cover his face, his hair stained red as he revels in the horrific shrieks of his mutilated prey.

Still, Mingi does not stop.

Only when the man’s entire spine is visible does Mingi toss aside the whip and switch to his bare hands. He knows the bastard is already dead, but that does not stop Mingi from tearing out his spine, or ripping him limb from disgusting limb.

Nothing is too much right now, and even in death, Mingi does not want this man to find peace.

He hurt you, and for that, he must pay. They all must pay.

Bathing his sash in the blood of his kills has never felt so satisfying in his entire life. He takes his time, moving through the village to soak the strip of cloth in each of his victim’s remains, humming lightly to himself as he does so. Mingi purposely both starts and ends with that bastard, dipping his cloth through what’s left of the man’s scattered remains before setting the whole place on fire.

As the flames blaze brightly in the early hours of the morning, Mingi has one final stop to make.

The glow of the raging inferno behind him is nothing more than a spec in the distance as he comes across an empty field. Fireweed covers the vast expanse of land, some patches of earth still charred from the blaze that stole your happiness from you some time ago.

Softly, his gaze scans the area, walking through the weeds now growing through what once was a beautiful field of your favourite flowers. His eyes catch on a single stem growing through the ash, and his breath catches in his throat.

The sun begins to rise.

Falling to his knees, Mingi stares down at the lone red spider lily that blooms almost defiantly within that field of wreckage.

A single teardrop falls to the earth, wetting the soil just beside the flower. It is followed by another, and then another, until the tracks cut lines into the blood staining his face.

Ever so gently, Mingi begins to dig. Dirt coats his fingers, getting stuck beneath his nails as he carefully pulls that plant from the earth. He cradles the root bulb in his hands tenderly, smiling softly down at the flower which now holds so much meaning to him, too.

Turning back to face the woods, Mingi begins the short journey back to you. Back to his home.

***

The light of the early morning sun peeks through the leaves of the trees around you. Warmth pools over your skin with every shifting beam, the gentle sway of the breeze caressing your entire body. The sound of birds chirping fill the skies, and you can faintly hear a gentle hum from the wildlife resting nearby.

Slowly, the environment begins to rouse you, the scents and sounds of the early morning calling you back from sleep’s warm embrace. Your one hand holds onto that stem of spider lilies, and you curl in closer to yourself. Only, something feels different.

Blinking your eyes open, you rub lightly at your face. A yawn escapes you, and you sit up only to realize what’s been wrong this whole time.

Mingi is missing, and you cannot find him anywhere in your immediate line of sight.

A light frown tugs at your features. Your mind is still heavy with sleep, so it takes you a moment to properly gather your bearings. 

Mingi must have just gone off to gather some supplies for the start of your daily journey. He normally has breakfast for the both of you ready by the time you wake up, anyways.

Movement from the bushes off to your right draws your attention. The sound of something approaching you through the woods grows louder, and your heartbeat accelerates. It sounds like it’s moving slowly, carefully, almost as if it’s stalking towards you.

Moments later, a large figure steps through the trees covered in blood. A red sash is tied around his forehead, and in his hands rests the most beautiful bloom that you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Mingi!” Your eyes go wide, worry immediately pulling at your features as you scramble to your feet.

Slowly, the fae in question lifts his head. His features are soft, mild concern tugging at his brow as he sees you rushing towards him. He’s well aware of what seeing him covered in blood does to you, and he was hoping to get back before you woke up. He wanted to clean himself off before you saw him like this, but at the way your hands frantically run over his chest and up to his neck, he knows that in this moment, you’re not scared of him.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Your voice is still lined with sleep, but the panic comes through loud and clear. “I woke up, and you were gone.”

“I’m sorry for worrying you, Blossom.” He says gently, a tender smile pulling at his lips as he looks down at you. “I was hoping to be back before you rose.”

“Mingi,” your eyes search his face, trailing over the blood and chunks of flesh clinging to his skin and embedded in his hair. “What happened?”

Shifting the flower he holds to rest in one hand, he tentatively reaches towards you. Hesitantly, the tips of his fingers caress the curve of your cheek as he stares at you with the most satisfied, loving look resting on his features.

“There was some business I had to tend to,” his voice is soft, his eyes searching your own. “A village that needed cleansing.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, your heart skipping a beat inside of your chest. Your gaze trails down to that lone flower resting in his one hand. Only, instead of feeling any sort of fear, or unease, you can only feel relief.

You take a deep breath in, and notice that beneath the stench of iron, Mingi also smells faintly of ash.

“Are you-“ Your voice catches. “Are you hurt?”

A soft chuckle falls from his lips. “As if they could ever hurt me.”

You shoot him a look in return, worry still clear in your eyes.

“No, Blossom,” he smiles, cupping the side of your face gently. “I am not hurt. Please, do not worry about me.”

A light exhale escapes you, and your eyes fall shut. “I’m glad.”

“No longer will any monsters ever haunt you,” his voice is low, and full of the deepest form of sincerity that you’ve ever heard someone speak to you with. “No monster will even hunt you again. I made damn well sure of it.”

Your brow furrows slightly in response, searching his features for an answer hidden beneath all of this gore.

That’s when it hits you. That’s when you fully accept the reality being presented to you.

“There’s nothing left of them, Blossom,” he tells you gently, that same look of undying love and loyalty resting deep within his eyes. “I made sure to burn them all to the ground.”

For a moment, you forget how to breathe.

“They cannot hurt you anymore.”

Your fingers begin to tremble lightly against the skin of his chest, the familiar sting of tears pricking at your eyes. All you can do in this moment is focus on the fae before you, covered in blood and guts, and all in the name of your honour.

He fought for you.

He punished those who have long since ignored you, beaten you down, and destroyed your sense of self worth.

He turned those that made you feel like you were nothing into nothing themselves, and now, all that is left of them is naught but ash and dust.

Silence stretches on between the both of you as you continue to stare at him. 

Mingi is conscious of every movement you make, of every slight hitch in your breath and every twitch of your fingers against his skin. His hand still cups the side of your face, and he worries, for a brief instance, that what he’s admitted to doing has just pushed you further away.

Only, just as he goes to pull his hand away, you lean into his touch.

Despite the dirt, despite the blood, ash, and other viscera that clings to his skin, you turn your head, placing a gentle kiss onto the palm of his hand.

This time, it’s Mingi’s turn for his breath to catch in his throat.

“Come on, Min,” you breathe out, reaching your own hand up to cup his gently. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Taking his hand into yours, you lead him over to the edge of that spring you bathed in together last night. 

Turning back to him, a soft smile graces your features. Carefully, you reach out your hands and he immediately places that single spider lily into your palms.

“It was growing-“ he swallows, voice thick with emotions that you understand all too well. “In the field that was burned, it was growing. I- I had to bring it back home to you. For you.”

“For us. For our home.” You glance upwards from the flower to stare into his eyes, and the way you see his expression soften at your words makes you smile. “Thank you, Mingi. Thank you. No one has ever-“ your voice catches slightly, and you blink away your sudden tears. “It truly means a lot.”

“It’s as I’ve said before, Beloved,” His lips tug upwards tenderly in the corners. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

You nod softly, eyes crinkling in joy. 

“As terrifying as it is for me to admit,” you breathe, smiling down at that flower in your hands, “I’m starting to believe you.”

A slight grin pulls onto his features, chuckling lowly. 

“How happy I am, then, to make you believe.”

You return his soft look, moving to place this flower with the other you left resting by the tree. By the time you turn back around, Mingi has already stripped himself of his soiled clothes and is waist deep in the spring. His back faces you, and you cannot help but to let your eyes roam over the unmarked skin for a moment longer than you probably should.

Swallowing the sudden dryness in your throat, you hurry back over to the edge of the spring. Rolling up your pants to just above your knees, you sit on the rocks lining the mouth of the spring, dipping your feet into the cool water.

Lightly, you kick your legs beneath the surface, causing ripples to form. The way Mingi turns to smile at you, face still covered in blood and grime doesn’t deter you at all. In fact, it only makes your heart skip another beat inside of your chest.

For once, the blood is not your own. There is no monster coming to hurt you, or hunt you down. That blood has been spilt for you, and you cannot deny the relief that floods your veins when you think about it. Not only that, but gratitude.

All of your life you wanted someone to fight for you. To protect you, and bring justice to those that wronged you for so long. Which is exactly why you can only feel elated at the fact that such a ‘monster’ would do something so personal for you.

He cares, and he’s more than proved it.

Too many times you’ve fantasized about taking control of your own life. You wanted the power to make your own decision, and to be able to get back at those who have wronged you. You resented them, and you wanted for them feel even an ounce of the same pain that they made you feel.

They did, and all because of Mingi. Because one other person - a fae, no less - could see, and decided, that you had worth.

Your heart swells in your chest, and you glance that red band laying beside you in the grass. The material is certainly darker than you remember it being last night, and given the colouration, you can tell that the strip of cloth is still wet in certain spots.

You don’t know why, but it makes you smile.

Turning your attention back on the fae in front of you, you motion him closer.

Slowly, Mingi walks over to you. He had been resting with his shoulders beneath the water, so once he stood, small trails of pink droplets had begun to cascade down his chest, mixing with the blood still marring his skin.

Once he’s close enough, you reach out and take his hand.

Wordlessly, you begin to bathe him just as he did with you last night. Your touch is nothing short of tender, scrubbing the dirt and blood from his skin and from beneath his nails. When you ask, he even unsheathes his claws to show you, and all you can do is marvel at how sharp they are.

A mental image of these claws tearing through the people of your village fills your mind. Though, instead of feeling disgust, or horror at such a gruesome act, you can only feel pride.

These claws are meant for you. They will tear through anyone or anything that threatens your safety, or makes you unhappy. They will always protect you, and never will they be used on you in such gruesome ways. A fact which only warms your heart the more you think about it, settling happily into this moment with Mingi before you.

Once you have finished washing his hands, you move onto his torso, working your way up his body until you reach his head. At this point, he kneels before you, making the reach much easier for you while revelling in the way your fingers thread through his hair.

Small pieces of bone are removed from his blond locks, which are now tinted the faintest shade of red in certain spots from the amount of blood that had covered him. The damp strands are pushed away from his face once you’re done, his sharp eyes staring up at you with nothing but adoration as he watches you clean him up.

Really, Mingi could get used to this. Coming back to you after a hunt is a dream come true, and the idea that you could be doing this with him every time only serves to make his heart race inside of his chest. The fact that he hasn’t scented any fear or unease from you since he’s return makes his whole body come alive, falling even deeper for you with every passing second.

“Okay,” your gentle voice manages to pull him out of his thoughts. “Done.”

Water cascades down the plains of his chest as Mingi stands back to his full height. Droplets cling to the ends of his hair, dripping onto your clothed thighs as he leans into you. An arm rests on either side of your torso, yet, despite his closeness, you do not feel trapped.

“Have I ever told you how incredible you are?” He keeps his tone low, voice rumbling from deep within his chest.

Your eyes shine, glancing up at him through your lashes. You can feel your heart swelling with warmth, and you cannot prevent the way a subtle heat rises to your cheeks.

A hand comes up to cup your face, his thumb languidly stroking over your cheek.

Still, he leans into you.

“I never want you to forget how special you are,” he breathes out, placing his forehead gently against your own. “How special you are to me.”

Your gaze, which had been shyly averted to your lap, lifts back up to meet his own.

“Did you really do it?” The words are naught but a whisper on your lips. “Did you really kill them all for me?”

“None of them deserved to life for a second longer for what they did to you,” his fingers press a little firmer against the skin of your cheek, and he steps closer. “I would do it all over again, too. As many times as it took, until you are satisfied.”

Slowly, carefully, you lift your hands to his face. Your eyes search his own, and nothing but sincerity shines behind his gaze. A fact which only causes the warmth in your chest to grow even further, beginning to spread outwards and all the way down to the very tips of your fingers.

“I care about you, My Blossom,” he repeats these same words to you now, just as earnestly as the first time. “I want to see you thrive, to see you bloom.”

“You… wish to be with me?” Your voice is a little hesitant, unsure of the words you seem to be speaking right now.

“More than anything,” he breathes out, and you can feel his warm breath ghost against the skin of your lips.

“You… want me?” The question is innocent enough, but his response is immediate.

“In any and every single way you’ll let me.” The words are but a low growl on his lips, dark eyes staring deeply into your own.

“You… want to-“ you pause for a moment, steadying your nerves, “belong to me in the same ways you would like for me to belong to you?”

Mingi takes a shuddering breath in, his eyes slipping closed. “Desperately so.”

Your lips part, tongue darting out to wet them.

“Are-“ you swallow the sudden dryness in your throat, “Are claims mutual?”

“Yes,” his reply is instantaneous, albeit a little airy. “Claims are-“ his tongue darts out to swipe against his bottom lip, “Claims are meant to be mutual between all parties involved. That’s how they are always intended to be, as they are the most sacred of bonds we can share with another.”

Softly, you nod your head, hands sliding down his cheeks and over his neck to rest on his shoulders. You can feel him shiver beneath your touch, stepping in even closer to you.

“When I say I want to claim you…” his eyes slip closed, revelling in the way your thighs part for him so that he can slot himself between them. “I have always intended, and will always mean for it to be mutual. I do not own you. You are not meant to be my possession. I do, however, desperately wish to be able to call you mine.”

The inhale you take is soft, hands tightening ever so slightly over his shoulders.

A moment passes in silence, letting his words wash over you. There is no doubt in your mind about what you want right now, and the answer is standing right before you, pouring his soul into every word that he speaks.

“Mingi…” 

The call of his name is so tender from your lips, that all he can do is hum in response. 

“I wish for you to claim me.”

There is no denying the way Mingi’s breath hitches. In fact, you swear he stops breathing completely, his eyes flinging open to stare deeply into your own. Not even a moment later, you can feel his chest beginning to heave with every breath, lips parting as he attempts to control himself for your sake.

“Are you-“ his tongue darts out to wet his lips, leaning the slightest bit further into you. “Are you sure?”

The way that he asks, that he’s making sure that this is something you do want, only serves to warm your heart, and solidify your decision.

You smile, repeating back to him the same words he spoke to you earlier this morning. “More than anything.”

You physically feel the way his heart skips a beat in his chest, the pounding resonating beneath your fingertips. You swear you can also feel him beginning to tremble beneath your touch, both of his hands coming up to cup your face tenderly.

“You do not know how happy you’ve made me, hearing you say that.” He says lowly, tilting his head forward so that your noses brush.

The corners of you lips tug upwards, fingers dancing lightly along his skin.

“Anything you want, everything you desire, is yours.” He whispers, his lips barely brushing over your own.

A small gasp parts your lips, your eyes hooding over as you briefly glance downwards at his own.

“I just want you,” the admission is but a sigh on your lips, wrapping your arms fully around his shoulders as your fingers begin to thread through the hair at the nape of his neck.

You swear a soft moan tumbles from him.

“Then, My Dear Blossom,” he steps impossibly closer. “May I kiss you?”

Your lips quirk upwards, heart swelling with warmth inside of your chest. The fact that he even asked, after everything you’ve been through…

“I would love nothing more.”

Instantly, his lips are on your own. One of his hands slides down the side of your neck, softly tracing over your shoulder and down the curve of your spine. His large hand splays against your lower back, pulling you in closer as he presses himself fully against you.

Water seeps into the material of your clothing, but you don’t care. Not with the way he’s kissing you to lovingly, holding onto you as if you are the most precious thing he has ever had the pleasure to experience in his life. 

From the way you can feel his fingers trembling lightly, his cock twitching against the skin of your thigh, you know that to him, you are.

His touch is gentle as he moves his lips over your own, your hands tangling in his locks to pull him in even closer. Yet still, he doesn’t push you too hard, easily letting you pull away if need be. 

Never does he want you to feel trapped with him. Always, it will be your choice.

Your choice to let him kiss you, to let him touch you.

Your choice to let him claim you, and for you to claim him.

Your choice to be with him, and to let him be with you.

You are his entire world, and he will do everything in his power to make sure you know just that. A fact of which he never wants you to forget.

He parts from you only to begin trailing his lips over your cheekbone and down to your jawline. His nose nuzzles gently over your skin, taking a deep breath in as your scent begins to completely overwhelm him in the best of ways.

Gently, he dips his head lower, placing tender kisses over the side of your neck and directly over your pulse. He can feel the way it flutters against his lips, and he cannot help but smile against your skin.

Taking another deep breath in, Mingi’s eyes flutter closed. A soft moan escapes him, and his free hand comes to settle on your waist, thumb brushing over the fabric of your shirt gently.

“I don’t-“ he swallows audibly, “I don’t want to push you too far, Blossom, but I fear that if we continue like this, then I won’t be able to stop myself from acting on my deeper desires.”

Your hands tighten in his hair, and you feel him shudder beneath your fingertips. “What is it that you desire, Min?”

A low groan escapes him, and he presses his face deeper into the side of your neck. “You, completely relaxed, and letting me take care of you like you’ve always deserved.”

Your breath catches lightly in your throat, and you pull him impossibly closer.

“I want to touch every inch of your skin, and show you how beautiful you are to me.” He continues lowly, his lips ghosting along the skin of your neck. “I wish to drown you in an ecstasy you never knew possible until you gave me the honour of pleasing you. I wish to give myself to you fully, and in return, I hope that you will give yourself to me, too.”

His name escapes you as no more than a gasp, expression softening as he pulls away to stare deeply into your eyes.

“I never want to push you too far, or make you uncomfortable. I would rather burn alive than ever take advantage of you like that.” He leans in to rest his forehead on your own once more. “I only want your pleasure, and if at any point you are uncomfortable, or you want to stop, you immediately let me know.”

The emotions that fill your chest overwhelm you, and you cannot help the tightness that you feel building within your throat. Tears well in your eyes, and you find yourself blinking them away rapidly while nodding your head.

You’ve never felt this deeply cared for, nor understood in your life.

“I will,” you manage to swallow the emotions that threaten to choke you out at any second. “I promise.”

Softly, Mingi smiles, leaning forward to peck your lips.

“Likewise, if there’s anything that you want me to do for you, Blossom,” he breathes out lightly. “All you have to do is ask.”

Again, you nod your head in understanding.

“I will never take more than what you are willing to give, and I will never give more than what you are willing to take.” He says gently, his hands sliding down you body to settle along the sides of your thighs as he pulls away to stare down at you. “I love you. I care about you deeply. I never want to do anything to jeopardize that.”

Your heart feels as if it’s about to burst forth from your chest, eyes shining with nothing but pure awe and appreciation. Your hands slide down the front of his chest, settling along his waist as you tug him in closer, wrapping your legs around him while meeting his gaze.

“Mingi,” the call of his name from your lips is so tender, even the birds seem to stop their morning songs to listen. The silence of the clearing seems to swell around you, and you take that final leap, knowing that he will be right there to catch you. “I am in love with you, too.”

Mingi swears that he forgets how to breathe. His heart simply flutters inside of his chest, and tears of his own well in his eyes. A happy laugh escapes him, the smile that pulls at his lips one that is not easily contained.

Leaning into you once more, Mingi presses his lips to your forehead. He lets his touch linger for as long as possible, pouring everything that he wants to say into the press of his skin against your own. He holds you tightly, eyes falling shut as a cascade of happiness spills over his cheeks.

“I love you so much,” he mumbles against your forehead, and not even a second later, he’s littering tender kisses all over your face, repeating the phrase with each one.

Your soft giggle is music to his ears.

The moment Mingi presses his lips to yours, you gladly wrap your arms back around his shoulders. You allow him to set the pace, grateful to be held in his embrace just like all of those times before. 

His kiss is soft, taking his time to fully explore your mouth as his tongue moves languidly against yours.

You hum, feeling his hands trail up your thighs and slip beneath the material of your shirt.

A sudden heat rises to your cheeks at the thought that drifts through your mind.

“Mingi,” the gentle call of his name draws his attention, and he pulls away to stare into your eyes. “Can you- uh…” he waits patiently for you to continue, noticing how your eyes squeeze shut in embarrassment as you rush out the words, “Can you cut me out of my clothes?”

Mingi’s eyes go wide. To say your request catches him off guard would be an understatement.

“They-“ you fidget slightly, hands suddenly pulled back into your lap. “They used to do that whenever they would have their fun, and I don’t want to remember them doing that anymore.”

His one hand comes up to tenderly brush his knuckle over the side of your cheek.

“Do you wish to forget?” He asks softly.

“I’m not doing this to forget,” you shake your head. “I want to replace those bad memories with newer, better ones. I don’t want to think about them cutting off my clothes. I want to think about you.”

It’s slight, and you believe it’s subconscious on his part, but he pulls you in even closer against him. Your body is almost pressed flush against his own, his loving gaze darkening at the implications.

“I will do anything if it means you thinking of me,” he mutters lowly. “Anything to make you happy.”

The hand that had been caressing the side of your cheek slides down to your shoulder. Carefully, he unsheathes his claws, hooking the tips beneath the collar of your shirt. At the way he hears your breathing pick up, he pauses, glancing at your face and noticing how your eyes remain shut for the moment.

Lightly, he tugs at your shirt.

“May I?” His inquiry is so gentle, that you cannot help but blink your eyes open to meet his gaze.

You swallow your nerves.

“Please.” A single nod accompanies your response, your heartbeat ringing in your ears.

Mingi’s movements are slow, precise. There is no harsh sound of tearing fabric. Instead, he pulls the shirt until it’s taunt with his nail, allowing his claw to cut through the thin material slowly.

The whole time, he maintains eye contact with you. At any sign of hesitance, or discomfort, he vows to stop. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you, or push you away.

Your breathing deepens, and within another blink of your eyes, Mingi has managed to cut right through your shirt. His hands settle on your hips, gently sliding upwards as the material parts following the path he takes up your body.

Tingles erupt on your skin as he traces his hands over your shoulders, pushing the now torn fabric gently down your arms. His touch is nothing but soft, his gaze soon following in the same path over your skin as your torso is fully revealed to him.

The sound of your shirt hitting the ground is synonymous with the low moan that escapes him. His eyes flit everywhere over your chest, following the gentle curves of your breasts all the way down to your stomach which he adores. Every scar he sees only adds to the perfection of you before him, baring yourself like this for him to see.

Him, and only him.

“You are absolutely captivating,” he breathes, eyes flitting once more over your torso before darting upwards to meet your gaze. His hands reach out to you, stopping just short of your waist. “Do I-“ he swallows, fingers trembling as his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Do I really get to touch such beauty?”

His question, posed so earnestly with wonder shining behind his gaze, makes your breath catch in your throat. Fondness shines in your eyes as you stare up at him, nothing but tender love and affection swirling deep within your chest. His words make your entire body heat, a pleasant feeling erupting beneath your skin as you simply revel in the way he looks at you.

Your legs tighten ever so slightly around his waist, eyes fluttering shut as you feel him pressing right against you. At the way you hum in confirmation to his gentle inquiry, you can feel his cock twitch against your thigh once more. The way he positively beams at your answer only makes you tighten your own grip on him, needing to feel him pressed against you in every way imaginable.

Gently, his hands settle onto your waist, squeezing your flesh appreciatively before tracing his touch over your sides. A low moan escapes him as he brings his hands up to cup your breasts. His thumbs trace over your nipples, the thin fabric still covering you barely doing anything to hide what lies beneath.

A soft moan parts your lips, and you find yourself arching into his touch. Your own hands slide up his sides, nails grazing his flesh lightly and causing a shiver to caress his spine.

Not even a moment later, Mingi hooks a finger through the thin band of fabric between your breasts. One quick tug from him, and the material snaps, the straps sliding down your shoulders almost instantly.

You visibly watch his eyes darken, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he stares down at your chest. He wastes no time in cupping your breasts, feeling the weight of them in his hands as he gives them an appreciative squeeze.

“So soft,” he moans, thumbs flicking over your nipples once more before circling over the pert buds. “So perfect.”

At his words, you press yourself further into his touch, soft pants escaping your lips. You can feel tingles erupting all over your skin wherever he touches, and the feeling only serves to make your head spin.

You could get lost in him, and from the way that his eyes shine tenderly down at you, you have a feeling that that’s exactly what he wants you to do.

Trailing your hands upwards, your fingers dance across his chest. The way he shivers beneath your touch has you smiling up at him, purposely dragging your nails over his skin.

“You’re so handsome, Mingi,” you breathe out, taking the time to admire his sculpted torso.

His breath catches lightly, and his hands involuntarily squeeze over your breasts. 

“You think I’m handsome?” The questions is posed so innocently, that his voice rises slightly in pitch.

“I do,” you hum, your one hand coming up to cup the side of his face. “You are the most stunningly handsome being I have ever had the pleasure to rest my eyes upon.”

You watch his throat bob as he swallows thickly, lips parting with the gentlest of gasps. His one hand slips around your back as he leans in, pulling you closer as he wastes no time in pressing his lips to yours once more.

Mingi pours every single emotion he has for you in the way his lips move against your own. The fingers of his one hand still cup your breast, beginning to pinch and roll your nipple between them. His tender movements mirror the gentle caress of his tongue against your own, and it only causes your breath to hitch lightly in your throat.

Eagerly, he swallows all of your moans, loving the way you cling to him desperately as he feels you beneath his touch. Your skin is a delicacy which ignites a fire beneath his own, and with every passing second, he only wants more.

Slowly, Mingi trails his hand that had been squeezing at your breast down your torso. His fingers dance lethargically against your skin, tracing over every dip and curve presented to him. The way he caresses you, trailing his fingertips over your scars lovingly, has your whole body heating, eagerly leaning into his every touch.

Desperately, you begin to crave more.

Soon, his fingers begin slipping beneath the waistline of your pants, never dipping more than a knuckle deep. He’s cautious, pulling away to meet your gaze to check in on you, wanting to make sure that you’re still okay, and that he’s not moving too quickly.

Your eyes stare up at him, wide and pleading, and he feels your hips shift the lightest bit forward. The smallest of whimpers escapes you, and the sound goes straight to his cock, lips parting in another moan as the scent of your arousal completely fills his every sense.

He can practically taste you on his tongue…

“Touch me, Mingi,” Your voice is barely above a whisper, airy and desperate. “Show me how beautiful I am.”

A low, pleased growl rumbles out from his chest. “With pleasure.”

Without wasting another moment, Mingi tears right through your pants, pulling the shredded material away and tossing it to the side. His hand comes down to settle on your thigh, thumb stroking lightly over your skin as he spreads you the slightest bit more open for him.

His lips find your own once more as his fingers creep up your thigh, skimming gently over the edge of your underwear. The fact that he can hear you whimper against his mouth only makes him smile into the kiss, deepening it without a second thought.

A moment later, he hooks a finger through the band, snapping the thin material and fully exposing you to him.

The full, unfiltered scent of your arousal bombards his senses, and he cannot help the way he gasps against your lips. His chest heaves with every breath, shifting his hand to cup you over your mound, the heat of you settling enticingly against his palm.

The hand he has splayed on your back tugs you in closer as the fingers of his other hand part your folds gently. Carefully, he drags the tip of his middle finger over your cunt, his eyes nearly rolling at the wetness that greets his skin.

A soft gasp escapes you as you feel him using the tip of his finger to circle over your clit, the movement making your whole body jolt in pleasure. 

His touch is soft, tentative almost. He wants to take his time exploring you right now, letting you feel his devotion to you in every movement that he makes. Anything and everything to get you to sigh his name in bliss, to have you clinging to him, and begging for more.

He adds the slightest bit more pressure over your clit.

Your eyes flutter, and another gasp escapes you. This time, of his name.

“There is no sweeter sound than the call of my name from your lips, Beloved,” Mingi breathes out against your neck, pressing gentle kisses against your skin.

The tip of his finger slips back down to circle your entrance, dipping lightly through your folds before pushing only a single knuckle into you. He slips it back out before pushing deeper into you each time, repeating the process until his finger is buried within your warmth, feeling the way your walls squeeze him so beautifully.

A moan falls from your lips, purposely clenching around his finger as you cling to him. Your head falls forward, eyes hooded as you glance his toned body before you. The moment you feel his thumb find your clit, you reach down, taking his cock into your one hand and pumping him a few times just above the water.

His hips jerk forward involuntarily, a low groan tumbling from his lips.

“Beloved,” his voice is strained, brow furrowing as he focusses on the way you shift your hand over his cock. “I don’t expect-“

“I want to.” Your own voice comes out breathlessly, clenching around his finger once more as he begins to move it within you. “I want to please you, too.”

“Your mere existence pleases me,” he replies airily, adding the slightest bit more pressure to his thumb circling over your clit. “I’ll allow it. For now. But after, I want it to be all about you.”

“But-“ 

The protest dies on your lips as you feel him wrap his one arm he has at your back fully around your waist. There is now barely any space between your two bodies, just enough to allow you both to continue your ministrations over the other as you hold one another close.

“Do not underestimate what being able to please you does to me, Blossom,” his words are but a low drawl on his lips, curling his finger deep inside of you and making you gasp. “You feel like heaven around me. Seeing you, getting to feel your reactions to me, is one of the greatest pleasures I will ever receive in my life.”

At the way you feel his cock twitch in your hand from his words, you know there is no greater truth to him than what he’s just spoken. A fact which makes your stomach twist in pleasure, squeezing around his finger buried deep inside of you as his thumb continues to circle over your clit.

Another moan escapes you, and your hand tightens subconsciously around his cock. You do your best to mirror the pace of his finger currently massaging your inner walls, but the pleasure that threatens to drown you at any second makes it increasingly difficult to think.

Your free hand clings onto his back, fingers digging into his skin. The press of your nails only causes him to shiver in pleasure, lips parting as low groans escape him. The way your hand feels, languidly stoking over his cock, makes his head spin. The moment he feels you swipe your thumb over his slit, he has to bite his lip to keep himself from coming. 

He needs to see you fall apart before he can even think to let himself go.

Slowly, just as he did with the first finger, he works another into you. His pace is gentle, pushing in so far only to pull back out as he stretches you open for him. His thumb never once leaves your clit, either, circling that sensitive little nub as his lips return to your own.

Eagerly, he swallows your sounds, offering you ones of his own in return. At the way he can feel your hands beginning to shake against him, he knows that you’re close.

“Give it to me, Beloved,” his breath escapes him as no more than heavy pants as he pushes his fingers into you. “I’m right here. Let yourself go.”

The moment you feel his fingers bury themselves deep inside of you, pressing firmly against your inner walls, your eyes roll. The tips lightly brush over such a sensitive spot inside of you, his thumb circling over your clit in time with his movements, making you see stars.

You come with a loud cry of his name, eyes squeezing shut as your body collapses forward into him. 

Of course, he is right there to catch you, to steady you as you fall.

Your hand stills over his cock, squeezing him firmly as he moans deeply, beginning to thrust lightly into your grip. Not even a moment later, you feel warm spurts of come painting your stomach, his breath heaving as low, pleased growls escape him with every exhale.

The feeling of Mingi’s hand gently stroking over your spine slowly begins to bring you back to reality. Your chest rises and falls dramatically with each breath you take, revelling in his touch. Your forehead presses against his chest, and you can feel it vibrating contently beneath you as he finally removes his hand from your cunt.

“So beautiful,” he coos, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head while the other settles onto your thigh. His fingers press delicately into your flesh, thumb stroking over your skin lightly. “So perfect.”

Ever so carefully, Mingi begins to dip you backwards, laying you gently upon the stone you rest on. His figure looms above you, nothing but love shining deep within his gaze as he stares into your eyes.

You finally release your hold on his cock, hand coming up to settle on his chest while the other shifts to tangle in his hair. You waste no time in pulling his lips back down to your own, heart swelling inside of your chest as his hands roam all over your body. Carefully, he avoids the mess he’s just made on your stomach. For now.

A blink, and Mingi begins trailing his lips down the side of your neck. His hot breath fans over your skin, contrasting the coolness of the rock at your back.

“Still okay?” He asks gently, gazing up at you through his lashes as his head rests just above your chest.

You nod, quite eagerly, as you still attempt to catch your breath. “Don’t stop.”

The smile that pulls at Mingi’s lips is so tender, that you cannot help the way your heart flutters in response. Almost instantly, he eagerly begins to trail more kisses down your chest, suckling lightly at your skin. 

His hands return to your breasts, kneading the flesh tenderly as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. A flick of his tongue over the pert bud has you moaning, arching once more into his touch as your thighs squeeze around his sides.

Softly, he suckles on your nipple, tongue swirling around the sensitive skin as he hums against you. A moment later, he’s releasing you with a soft pop, kissing his way over to your other breast to give it the exact same attention.

Your lips are parted, eyes hooded over as you lift your head to watch him move over you. Your one hand tangles in his locks, nails scratching at his scalp as your fingers thread through his hair.

What truly makes your head spin is when you see him detach himself from your nipple only to press his face directly between the valley of your breasts. His eyes flutter closed, and he inhales deeply, a stuttering groan falling passed his lips. Then, he’s tilting his head forward, placing a lingering kiss right over the skin of your beating heart.

“Mine.” He growls out, his eyes flashing open to stare deeply into your own.

Your breath hitches in your throat, heart stuttering inside of your chest. Only, your reaction surprises you. You cannot deny the way your stomach twists in pleasure at the way he says this, nor the way you feel yourself clench around nothing.

So, you respond in a way that feels both natural and right in this moment to you.

“Yours.” The word is but a sigh on your lips, but the effect it has on the fae before you is instantaneous.

A desperate groan escapes him, his eyes falling shut as he presses his face against your chest once more. You can feel his every breath hitting your skin, his hands settling onto your waist and pulling you in closer. His fingers dig into your skin, firm enough so that you can feel the need in his touch, but not enough to hurt you.

No. Never enough to hurt you.

“As I will always, and forevermore, be yours,” he breathes out onto your skin, blinking his gaze open to stare up at you lovingly. He hums contently, “My Beloved Blossom.”

Slowly, he begins trailing kisses back down your torso, his hands still eagerly gripping at your sides. His eyes briefly flick down to your stomach, noting the lines of his come still covering you in him.

Something deep within Mingi snarls with unabashed pride, and he smirks.

His tongue comes out to lave over your skin, tracing the trails of his come all the way from bottom to top. After each line, he places open mouthed kisses against your stomach, laving his lips over every inch of you, and loving the way he can feel you begin to squirm beneath him in pleasure.

Your hands tighten in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. “Mine.”

The moan Mingi lets out against your skin is deep, his fingers sinking a little firmer into your sides. His chest rumbles pridefully in agreement, his sharp eyes flashing as he looks up to meet your gaze.

“Say it again,” his voice is but a growl on his lips as he sinks to his knees before you.

With a slight hitch in your breath, you comply.

“Mine.”

His hooded eyes lock onto your own, licking his lips eagerly as he slides his hands under your thighs, pushing your legs further apart.

“Again.” He growls, shifting forward slightly to hook your legs over his shoulders.

The way your pussy clenches right before his very eyes has another pleased rumble shaking his chest.

A small whimper slips passed your lips, and Mingi can feel the way your thighs begin to tremble against his shoulders. 

“You’re mine.” Your fingers come down to thread back through his hair, tugging lightly at the roots.

Mingi’s eyes flutter once more, a pleased hum escaping him.

“I am yours, Blossom,” he leans his head gently against your one thigh. A moment later, he’s turning to place a tender kiss right over where that cut he helped heal had previously marred your flesh. Then, his eyes are flashing open, and he tugs you closer to the edge of the spring. “Now, let me watch you bloom.”

As soon as those words escape his lips, he’s diving into you, parting your folds eagerly with his tongue. The moan he lets out reverberates against your core, licking a broad strip upwards to begin flicking gently at your clit.

Your whole body jolts at the first touch of his tongue over your cunt. A whimper of his name falls passed your lips, thighs naturally wrapping themselves around his head.

A pleased growl escapes him, vibrating pleasantly against your clit as he sucks the little bundle of nerves between his lips. His hands wrap around your thighs, pulling himself in closer to you as he positively buries his face in your cunt, licking eagerly at every drop you have to offer him.

You moan, eyes falling shut as you cry out his name once more.

“That’s it, Blossom,” his voice rumbles out against your folds, his nose pressing into your clit as his tongue swirls around your entrance. “Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.”

His tongue dips between your folds, pressing deeper into you with every lick.

“So good,” you moan, fingers tightening in his hair to pull him in closer to your cunt. “Fuck- Mingi!”

His eyes flutter in bliss, moaning shamelessly into your pussy as he laves his mouth over you.

“Just like that, Blossom,” his tongue comes up to flick eagerly at your clit again, his one arm shifting beneath you. “I want you to drown me in you.”

The second those words slip passed his lips, his fingers are back at your entrance. Slowly, he begins to push two back into you, working you open just as he did earlier.

He needs to feel you squeezing around him again. He needs to see you fall apart  for him again. He needs to feel you coming for him, and him alone.

“Such a pretty little pussy,” he hums, pulling away to watch his fingers slip inside of you. He nearly moans at the sight, cock twitching as he feels your walls clench around him. “So pretty, and all for me to devour.”

Another moan tumbles from your lips, tossing your head back in bliss. You can hardly maintain eye contact with him for long, the heat from his gaze setting your soul on fire, and bathing you in in the warmth of his love, of his desire.

It’s for you. It’s all for you.

The wet sounds of his tongue on your core fill the clearing as he returns to suckling on your clit. His fingers move languidly in you, massaging against your inner walls until the tips are finding that familiar spot that has your breath hitching. Once he feels is against the tips of his fingers, he curls them, humming over your clit as he shakes his head from side to side.

Your thighs begin to shake around him, that familiar pressure building within you with every flick of his tongue over your clit. The pleasant stretch of his fingers buried in your cunt only makes you clench around them, breath stuttering as he continues to massage the tips over that special spot deep inside of you.

Gently, you feel him grab one of your hands in his own, tugging it loose from his hair in order to lace your fingers with his. His eyes plead for you to fall apart, squeezing your hand now held within his own as he flattens his tongue against your clit. 

His warm breath hits your cunt with every desperate pant that escapes him, moving his tongue languidly in circles. In the next moment, he pulls away to flick at the sensitive little nub rapidly, watching your every reaction intently as he curls his fingers once more.

Your orgasm crashes into you without warning, your legs trembling violently around his head. Naturally, your thighs squeeze together, back arching off of the stones as you cry out his name. Your eyes flutter shut, brow furrowed as you cling onto his hand like a lifeline, drowning in the ecstasy he so willingly provides.

Moans and whimpers of his name fall from your lips, attempting to catch your breath as you feel his tongue continuing to lick over your dripping cunt. It’s slow, and tender, collecting every last drop you have to offer him as he removes his fingers from your core.

He hums, chest rumbling pleasantly as his thumb rubs over the back of your one hand held in his. His other is settled on your upper thigh, resting just below your hip to help steady you on the rocks. 

Pulling his head away, he licks his lips, and you can see your essence dripping down his chin as it shines beneath the light of the day.

“I love making you come for me,” his voice escapes him as no more than a content growl, turning his head to place tender kisses upon the skin of your inner thighs. “True solace resides here, between the heat of your legs.”

Your expression softens, a gentle sigh of his name falling from your lips.

“I never want you to stop calling out my name,” he breathes, the ghost of his breath tickling the skin of your thigh.

Carefully, he lets your legs fall from his shoulders, and back into the water of the pool below. The grip he has on your one hand loosens, and he stands back to his feet. His touch trails up your sides as he leans over you, pressing his lips to yours and kissing you deeply.

You hum against his mouth, arms wrapping around his shoulders as your fingers thread back through his hair.

Gently, he pulls away, resting his forehead against your own.

“Are you okay?” His tone is soft, staring deeply into your eyes as he holds himself above you for the moment.

A tender smile pulls at your lips. “More than okay.”

He returns your loving smile.

“Do you want to-“

“Make love to me, Mingi,” your gaze holds nothing but the most fond of looks as you bring your hand around to cup the side of his face, staring deeply into his eyes. “Make love to me as you claim me as yours.”

There is no denying the hitch in his breath as he stares down at your form, naked and spread out beneath him. His gaze searches your own, and all he can see staring back at him is the same tenderness that he knows is held within his own. There is no uncertainty in your eyes, nor hesitance, and the way you soon pull him in closer only serves to make his heart swell with even more love for you inside of his chest.

“I would love nothing more,” his reply is gentle, his fingers coming up to trace over the side of your cheek.

Taking a moment now, Mingi commits this beautiful scene to memory for years to come.

Pushing himself slightly upwards, Mingi lets his hands trail over the length of your body. Love pours from his gaze and into his touch as he looks down at you. A love that he can see, that he can feel returned in your own.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he glances something that has his heart skipping a beat inside of his chest at the mere thought of. Briefly, his eyes flit from your face, to the side, and back before he’s cupping your cheek in the palm of his hand once more.

“I want you to wear something for me while I make love to you, Beloved.” He licks his lips. “Can you- can you do that for me?”

Your eyes search his face for a moment, trailing all over his features as you lift a hand to rest on top of his own.

Slowly, you nod your head, a soft ‘okay’ falling from your lips.

Carefully, Mingi reaches his hand out above you, grasping something in his grip. Your eyes track his every movement, and the moment he pulls back, your breath hitches slightly in your throat.

There, in his grip, rests that crimson sash, stained fresh with the blood of all those who had ever wronged you.

Your lips part in awe, heart swelling at the meaning behind his request. Not to mention the fact that this band is his most prized possession, and now he wants you to wear it during such an intimate moment shared between the two of you.

Mingi helps you sit up, his hand on your back to steady you as you grip onto his shoulders. He can hear how fast your heart is beating, and he knows that his is doing the exact same.

You tilt your head up to meet his gaze, and your expression says it all. No words need to be said between you as a deep understanding passes over one another. One that says you care about him, and he cares about you, both in your own ways. You will let him take care of you, just as you’ve always wanted. Just as you’ve always deserved.

Leaning forward, Mingi presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. He allows his lips to linger, his eyes falling shut as he absolutely revels in this moment here with you. There is so much wants to tell you, so much he wants to show you, but for now, he’ll start with this.

“I love you, My Blossom,” Pulling away, Mingi makes sure to stare deeply into your eyes. “So much.”

A smile tugs at your features, tender and loving. “As I love you, My General.”

“Mingi.” The corner of his mouth quirks upwards as corrects you. He shifts forward, securing that sash carefully around your forehead. “For you, it’s always Mingi.”

The sound of the fabric tightening as it’s tied reaches your ears, but the knot is anything but. He ensures that band is securely around your forehead, eyes shining with nothing but admiration and awe as he pulls away to stare at you. 

Slowly, his fingertips trace back down over the curve of your cheeks, wrapping his arms around your back. He draws you in closer as you part your legs for him, letting him press himself flush against your chest.

Your hands slide down the front of his torso, eyes following in their wake as you take the time to fully admire him. You cannot help the way your tongue comes out to wet your lips, stomach flipping pleasantly as the realization that he is yours settles over you.

You smile.

“If I hurt you-“

“You won’t.” Your voice comes out firmly, gaze darting back up to meet his own. “I trust you.”

Mingi’s breath catches in his throat, and his heart skips a beat inside of his chest. Your words mean everything to him in this moment, and he swears to never break that trust for as long as you both shall live.

As he stares deeply into your eyes, you know that he won’t, either.

Scooting closer to the edge of the rock you sit on, you manage to wrap your legs around Mingi’s waist. The way you pull him in closer in such a way only causes a smile to tug at his lips, his hands sliding down your sides and settling lightly on your waist.

“Hold onto me, Beloved,” he says lowly, his hands shifting to grasp your ass and lift you slightly towards him.

Immediately, you comply, your arms wrapping themselves around his shoulders as he pulls you into him.

His hold is gentle as he walks himself backwards and into the centre of that spring. The pool deepens, the water now coming up to about his chest height, but still, he carries you, making sure your head, and that sash, stay dry.

Carefully, he adjusts you so that his one hand is supporting you beneath your ass, while the other reaches down between the two of your bodies. He takes his cock into his hand, pumping himself a few times before lining the tip up with your entrance. He takes the liberty to drag the head of his cock through your folds, bumping over your clit a few times as he meets your gaze.

“Tell me you want this,” his words are a bit desperate, eyes pleading as he holds you both still, waiting for that final confirmation to fall from your lips. “Tell me you want me.”

Your heart swells in your chest, warmth flooding your veins as you cup his face in both of your hands. Your eyes shine with nothing but love and admiration, desire swirling deep within your irises as you hold his gaze. The fact that he still waits, the fact that he’s been so gentle and caring with you this whole time, only proves to solidify your answer.

“I want this, Mingi,” the words are but a tender whisper on your lips. “I want you.”

Mingi’s heart simply flutters at your admission, and he doesn’t waste another moment before slowly letting you sink down on his cock. He’s nothing but tender, and oh, so, careful as he pulls you down only so far before lifting you off of him again, repeating the process as he pushes deeper and deeper into you each time.

The warmth of your cunt makes his head spin, and with every inch that he sinks further into your tight walls, he finds it harder and harder to control himself. Yet still, he does. 

For your sake.

Your hands dig into the skin of his shoulders, clinging to him tightly as he stretches you out. You can feel yourself clenching around him with each delicious inch that stretches you out, eyes nearly rolling once he finally sheathes himself fully into your tight heat.

His arms are around you, holding you flush against his chest as his brow furrows. Small pants escape him, low moans spilling from his lips each time you shift slightly above him.

“You feel like paradise around me, Beloved,” he drawls out huskily right beside your ear. “Like you were made for me.”

A soft gasp slips passed your lips as he shifts beneath you, clenching around him as you feel his cock pulse deep within you.

“So wet,” he coos, nuzzling his face into the side of your neck. “So warm.”

“For you,” you breathe out, and you hear the way a choked moan escapes him. “All because of you.”

This time, there’s no mistaking the moan that falls passed his lips. His chest rumbles with a low, pleased growl, his lips finding purchase on your skin.

“Feel how hard you make me, Blossom?” He hums, tongue darting out to lave over your pulse. “Feel how well you let me fill this tight little pretty pussy of yours?”

He gives a tentative grind of his hips into your own, and your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head.

“Yes,” you moan out, tossing your head back as you tighten your hold around him. “Feel so good filling me, Min.”

You emphasize your words by clenching around him, hearing a choked gasp of your name fall from his lips.

“You are my everything,” he whispers, one hand shifting to grab at your ass and squeezing the flesh appreciatively. Again, he rolls his hips up into your own. “My Beautiful, Beloved, Blossom.”

This time, it’s his turn to emphasize his every word with a roll of his hips into you, his voice coming out as no more than a low growl. His opposite hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, bringing your lips to his in a desperate, but searing kiss.

Slowly, but surely, he begins a languid pace, rolling his hips up into yours as he holds onto you just as tightly as you cling to him. Each movement is precise, letting you feel his devotion in the way he brings his hips up to meet your own, and pouring every ounce of love that he can into the way his cock fills your tight little hole.

Low hums and soft sighs fall from your lips, his name gracing your tongue with every gentle thrust he gives you. Your arms wrap around his back, nails tracing lightly over his skin and leaving marks of your own in their wake.

A pleased rumble shakes his chest, and he begins to snap his hips a little firmer into you. The way you body bounces with each thrust captivates him, and he drinks in every expression of pleasure you give him eagerly, committing them all to memory.

A choked cry of his name parts your lips as the tip of his cock brushes against that tender spot inside of you. Adjusting his hold on you, he makes sure to hit that spot with every thrust, grinding his hips into your own each time.

That red sash rests like a crown upon your head, and as Mingi glances your ethereal form beneath the light of the morning sun, his heart feels close to bursting. His pace begins to quicken, low rumbles shaking his chest with every move he makes. The way he can feel you clenching around him has his cock twitching deep within you, hands desperately clinging onto you as he pulls you into him to meet his every thrust.

“I love you,” The words are but a strained whisper, falling from his lips repeatedly with every snap of his hips into your own. 

Only admiration and the deepest, sincerest form of love can be seen in his gaze as he stares intently into your own, captivated by the glorious sight that is you, falling apart on his cock.

You fingers thread through his hair, pulling his lips to yours for another searing kiss. Eagerly, you swallow his moans, just as you offer up your own to him. 

You can feel that familiar tightness building within you, close to snapping at the skillful way he fills you with his cock. No movement is wasted, and the way you feel him squeeze your ass again has you tightening your legs around his waist.

Parting from your lips with a gasp, Mingi’s eyes flutter shut. Not even a moment later, he’s letting his head fall forward, burying his face into the side of your neck.

His lips find purchase over your pulse, sucking lightly at the skin there before laving his tongue eagerly over the spot. His breathing comes in jagged pants, hot breath fanning over your flesh as low growls begin to escape him with every exhale he makes.

“Touch that pretty little clit for me, Blossom,” he breathes out onto the skin of your neck. “Touch that pretty little clit, and make yourself come all over me.”

Another moan of his name slips passed your lips, and you do as told. Almost instantly, your hand slides from his back down to your clit, flicking over the sensitive nub with the tips of your fingers.

You clench hard around him, a desperate whine escaping you as you nearly fall right over the edge.

Gently, the hand he has supporting the back of your head tilts you to expose your neck fully, his pace never once faltering as he laves his tongue over your pulse once more. 

Your eyes flutter shut, and with one final flick over your clit, you come, screaming his name.

The instant Mingi feels you coming around him, his fangs sink into the tender flesh of your neck. An animalistic snarl reverberates against your throat, his hips snapping into yours before he stills within you. The hand he has gripping your ass pulls you flush against him as he spills deep inside of you, clinging onto you as desperately as you cling to him.

Your whole body shudders in his hold, the euphoric feeling of your orgasm only intensified by the feeling of his fangs in your throat. You never expected for it to be this intense, and it takes you several long minutes to calm down, whimpering with each small ministration against you. Even the water is starting to become too much against your skin, every feeling intensified and making your shake in overstimulation.

Slowly, you begin to feel something wet and hot dragging itself along the skin of your neck. Pleased rumbles vibrate against your chest as you catch your breath, and finally, your vision returns. Blinking at few times, you focus in on that redcap before you, noticing how he pulls away with red dripping down his chin.

He licks his lips, the most heartwarming smile tugging at his features as he strokes a hand tenderly over your spine.

“My Blossom,” he hums, gaze shining with nothing but tender love and affection as he looks at you. “How beautiful it is to watch you bloom.”

Happy tears well in your eyes, burying your face into his chest as he slowly walks you both back over to the edge of the spring. Your arms hold onto him tightly, humming as you nuzzle into him. You can still feel his cock buried deep inside of you, and it only serves to make this moment that much more special, for you know that he wishes to be part of you for as long as he possibly can.

Despite the bite you’ve just received, your neck doesn’t hurt. Instead, you feel a warmth blooming deep within you. A feeling of tremendous comfort and safety wraps itself around you like a blanket, and with the way he begins to gently wash the both of you off, you know that this feeling resting deep inside of you is pure and true.

Carefully, he unties that band from around your head, placing it gently to the side.

“You did so well for me, Beloved,” he coos, his hand tracing over the contours of your spine. “How I love you so. Very much.”

You can only offer him a hum in return, fatigue suddenly overwhelming you as you rest in his arms. The feeling of his cock slipping out of you makes you moan softly, clenching around nothing as he continues to clean you both up.

“Get some rest, My Beloved.” He chuckles lowly, cradling your head in his one hand. “I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

And so you do, falling asleep in the arms of the one who loves you most.

***

The moment you wake, Mingi is there. He brings you water, making sure you’re well hydrated before feeding you some food slowly. Most importantly, he makes sure that you’re okay. 

Gently, he rubs your muscles, working over any soreness you might have from the events that took place earlier in the day. He even goes so far as to kiss over every single inch of your skin, stating that he wants to make good on his every promise from earlier.

The rest of the day is spent like this, with Mingi taking care of you and you resting in each others arms. He is at your beck and call, and as evening comes, hues of red, orange, pink, and yellow painting the sky, he pulls you in even closer.

Never is he going to let you go. Never does he want to.

Beneath the light of the stars, Mingi makes love to you a second time. He holds your hand tightly in his own, interlacing your fingers together as he makes you cry out his name to the heavens.

Always, it’s all about you.

He treats you with a tenderness you never knew possible for someone like you. A tenderness which you gladly lose yourself to each and every time he offers it, and when you look at him, you realize that everything will all turn out okay.

He’s here now, and he’s not going anywhere.

The next morning is spent wrapped in each other’s embrace. 

The soft sounds of birds fill your ears, light filtering in through the breaks in the trees. Gently, leaves sway in the breeze, filling the clearing with the pleasant scents of nature. Your head rests on Mingi’s chest, and you cannot help but glance those two stems of spider lilies beside you, laying almost parallel to you and him.

A smile pulls at your features.

“Good morning, Blossom,” Mingi’s deep voice manages to pull you out of your thoughts. You turn to look up at him, noticing him already staring down at you with nothing but love shining within his gaze. “Did you sleep well?”

A soft hum escapes you as you settle your head back onto his chest, listening to the comforting sound of his heartbeat. “I always sleep better when you are near.”

You can hear the way his heart simply flutters inside of his chest at your words, a content rumble echoing around the clearing.

“Then, it’s a good thing I love holding you so close,” he grins, pulling you impossibly closer into him.

You hum, rolling on top of him, but saying nothing in response. Simply, you revel in this moment, and his touch, curling around him as his hand begins to gently stroke over your spine.

His eyes catch on that fresh bite mark on your neck, the indents from his teeth shining under the light of the morning sun. Another pleased rumble shakes his chest, and softly, he brings a hand upwards. His fingers trace lovingly over the claim on your neck, revelling in the way you positively shiver beneath his touch.

“Can I-“ your voice comes out a bit small, uncertain. “Do I get to give you one of my own?”

Mingi freezes beneath you, his eyes going wide. You can audibly hear the way his breath catches, feeling his heart begin to thunder against your chest as you press up against him.

“You- you want to give me a claim of your own?” His gaze shines with something akin to hope, love and admiration swirling deep within.

“Is that not how it works?” You tilt your head slightly, your brow furrowing as you worry you may have misunderstood him.

“No, no, it- it is.” He inhales a shaky breath through his nose. “I just- I didn’t think you’d wish to-“

“Of course I would want to.” You smile at him softly. “Claims are mutual, are they not?”

His eyes shine with unshed tears, happiness swelling inside his chest and causing his veins to flood with pure ecstasy. Tingles erupt under his skin wherever you touch, and he finds that he cannot get enough.

Slowly, he begins to nod his head. 

“Yes.” He swallows the building emotions in his throat. “They are.”

You shift slightly above him, pulling yourself closer to his face so you can stare down at him tenderly. “Then, will you let me claim you, Mingi?”

He blinks, the first of his tears spilling from the corners of his eyes and falling down to the earth to stain its soil with his happiness.

“I would love nothing more.”

The corners of your lips tug upwards as you lean in to press them against his own. His one hand comes up to cradle the side of your face, the other settling onto your lower back and holding you steady over him. 

You pull away to stare deeply into his eyes, and Mingi tilts his head to the side, exposing the side of his neck for you.

“Claim me, Beloved,” his words are but a plea upon his lips. “I am yours.”

Slowly, you lean into him. Your lips trail a path from his jawline all the way to the side of his neck, nipping gently at the skin with your teeth. You can hear his breathing deepen, tightening his grip ever so slightly over you as you dart your tongue out to lave over his pulse.

“It’s just a- just a bite, right?” You ask, breath ghosting against his skin.

“Yes,” His reply is airy, tilting his head further to the side as a small, desperate whine escapes him. “Just a bite.”

Teasingly, you drag your teeth over the side of his neck, and you can feel him shiver beneath you. A moment later, you clamp them against his skin, but not enough to be considered a proper bite.

“Blossom,” he pants out, pleading with his eyes despite the fact that you cannot see his face in this instant. “Blossom, please-“

His words get cut off by the feeling of you sinking your teeth into his neck.

A loud moan escapes him, his hips jerking upwards as his eyes squeeze shut. His head nearly gets tosses back at the pleasure that courses through his veins, skin heating beneath your touch as you slowly detach your lips from the side of his throat.

Pulling away, you hold yourself above him. You spare a glance down at his face, noticing how his lips are parted and his eyes are glazed. His chest heaves with every breath as he takes in the sight above him that is you, his blood staining your lips bright red.

The second you dart your tongue out to taste the crimson substance adorning your skin, you moan. Almost instantly, your face buries itself back into the side of his neck, laving at the fresh mark you’ve just given him.

Mingi groans in response, his hands finding purchase on your hips, guiding you to begin grinding over his semi-hard cock. The call of your name is so tender from his lips, that you swear he believes you to be some form of divinity.

In his mind, you are.

The rest of that morning is spent in each others arms, proclaiming your love for one another as you lose yourselves to the pleasure the other provides. Never has anything ever felt so pure in your lives, each desperate for the other as you claim one another over, and over, and over again.

By the time you’ve both finished, the sun is cresting high in the sky. You spend the afternoon cleaning each other up, and by the time the early evening rolls around, you’re finally ready to continue on your journey back home.

Those two stems of spider lilies rest in your hands, and you eagerly take a step forward in the direction of the keep. Only, your right leg gives out on you as soon as you put any sort of pressure on your ankle.

Luckily, Mingi is right there to catch you before you fall. Just as he always will be.

“I’m sorry, Beloved,” his eyes shine with slight remorse. “I overdid it.”

“Not at all.” Immediately, you shake your head. “I can walk.”

Again, you go to take another step, much to Mingi’s protest. Yet, again, your leg gives out on you.

Before you can say anything, Mingi is scooping you into his arms.

“Get some rest, Blossom,” he smiles down at you, placing a gentle kiss onto your forehead. “I’ve got you.”

Your one brow quirks, almost playfully. “I thought you said you weren’t going to carry me?”

Mingi laughs, beginning the final trek home to the keep.

“I’m not carrying you,” he says lightheartedly, a smile tugging at his features. “Think of it as holding onto you while walking. There’s a difference.”

A giggle graces his ears as you curl into him, resting your head on his chest. “Sure there is.”

“I’d carry you to the ends of the earth if it meant getting to see you every day.” He replies earnestly, glancing down at you with such a loving look resting on his features.

“I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon, Min,” you hum, nuzzling deeper into his chest.

A pleased rumble greets your ears, his grip tightening around you as he pulls you in even closer.

“Get some rest, Blossom,” he repeats his words from mere minutes earlier. “There’s not that much further to go. I’ll get us there safely, don’t you worry.”

The corners of your lips tug upwards in a soft smile. 

“I trust you, Min.” Your eyes flutter shut, already feeling the familiar pull of unconsciousness tugging at your mind as the steady rocking of each of his steps begins to lull you to sleep. “I love you.”

You fail to see the tender smile that pulls onto his own features, but you can hear his contentment clear in his voice all the same. 

“As I love you, My Beloved Blossom.”

***

Whispers are what rouse you from your sleep.

The sun creeps over the hills, its morning rays lighting up the sky as you blink your eyes open. Mingi had walked with you in his arms all through the night, managing to cover more ground as you slept. He could practically taste the stale air of the keep, the stones beckoning him home.

Getting closer with each step he takes is a somewhat large castle. Half of it lies in ruin, but the keep still stands almost defiantly amongst the rubble. It’s beautiful, yet tragic in a way, but it’s home. A home which you are grateful for, for you know it means Mingi will be there, too.

After all, he is now your home, just as you are his.

Lifting your free hand, you rub at your face. More and more hushed tones follow you as you rest in Mingi’s arms, most if not all, harsh in their musings of disbelief.

“Is that the human?”

“How is she still alive?”

“Never mind that, did he claim her?”

“It won’t mean anything."

“There’s a mark on his neck, too!”

The comments come one right after another, and they only cause you to curl deeper into Mingi’s chest. The implications behind most of them make your heart drop, and though you know that none of them are true where Mingi is concerned, you cannot help but to wonder about those other humans in this realm much unluckier than you.

“Enough!” Mingi’s voice booms out, immediately silencing the gathering redcaps surrounding you. “If you have any issues with who I’ve chosen to imprint on, you may take up your grievances with me in a duel.”

Your breath catches slightly in your throat, curling in even closer into his chest as an eerie silence stretches on around you.

“If I catch any of you treating her with anything less than the utmost of respect, I will carve out your tongue, and feed it to the crows. There is no limit on what I will do to you, should you choose to harm her in any way.” Mingi’s sharp gaze looks over his gathered subordinates, his arms tightening over you almost subconsciously. “Do I make myself clear?”

Immediately, the redcaps all straighten. “Yes, General.”

Mingi grunts, turning back to continue making his way through the keep.

“Dismissed.”

You don’t have to peek over his shoulder to know that the other fae have immediately obeyed his orders.

The rest of the day is spent with Mingi showing you around the keep. He takes you out back to an empty field, helping you plant that one red spider lily with him. The way he smiles at you when you turn to look up at him in awe says it all.

Finally, you’re home.

A few days pass, and you seem to have no incidents with the other redcaps. Things are a bit interesting at first, to say the least, with them not used to having a human around, let alone treating one with respect. However, they respect their General, and will obey his every command, and thus, they are respectful to you.

It’s only when you’re in your new bedroom, alone, do you feel a chill raise on the back of your neck.

“You should be dead.” 

A voice from the open doorway causes you to turn to see Windfel standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. A frown mars his features, only visible from the downturn of his lips as that red flat cap is pulled low over his head.

You blink at him, tilting your head in inquiry as your brow furrows slightly.

“No, really,” he pushes himself off of the doorframe, beginning to stalk his way forward and into your room. “He should have killed you.”

You involuntarily take a step backwards at the sudden dark look in his eyes.

“He was supposed to kill you!” Windfel shouts, appearing before you in the blink of an eye and pinning you to the wall by your throat. “I should have just done it myself to get it over with, but I thought it would be fun to have the general go on a little hunt.”

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears, throat constricting as fear builds within your chest. All you can do is stare at the crazed redcap before you, struggling to free yourself from his grip as your vision begins to fade in the corners.

The hand around your throat tightens even further.

Tears line your eyes, spilling freely down your cheeks as you attempt to cry out for help. Mingi had been scouting the area outside the keep today, so if only you could just get enough air to fill your lungs to scream…

“You humans think you’re so fucking special,” Windfel spits, one of his claws tracing over the top line of your claim almost mockingly. “Seduce one fae, and you suddenly believe you’re untouchable.”

Your legs kick out uselessly beneath you, your right ankle throbbing as your lungs burn. With every moment that passes, you can feel yourself getting weaker and weaker, only being able to think of Mingi in what you believe to be your final moments.

A roar so deadly pierces the air, shaking the entirety of the keep. 

Within the blink of an eye, Windfel is torn away from you, his body being thrown through the window beside your bed. Mingi is beside you in an instant, hands shaking against your form as you heave air into your lungs. Fear, pure and unfiltered, rests in his gaze as he check you over gently, making sure that you’re okay before standing back to your feet.

“How did you…” your words trail off, coughing lightly at the pain speaking brings you right now.

“I could sense you,” Mingi responds, tightening his hold around you as he cradles you to his chest.

It is then that you feel him place a soft kiss over his claim on your neck.

A shiver caresses your spine as he helps you back to your feet. You can hear shouting coming from the courtyard below, and as Mingi leads you outside, your hand held in his own, you see him shift into every bit of that cold persona of the monstrous general you have come to love.

“What is the meaning of this?” His voice booms out across the courtyard, sharp eyes darting around at the gathered redcaps.

You notice Windfel being held back by both Lias and Darius, their claws sinking into his flesh unforgivingly. Blood drips down his features, pieces of broken glass embedded in his skin.

“You’ve gone soft, General,” Windfel spits, turning his hate filled eyes towards you.

Almost instantly, Mingi steps in front of you, blocking you from the other redcap’s sight.

“You purposely sent me on a hunt in hopes that I would kill her.” Mingi’s voice is but a low snarl on his lips, dangerous in every right. “I thought it was strange that you would take her to bathe. When the wild stream wouldn’t kill her, you had hoped that I would.”

An unbridled fury shines within Windfel’s gaze. However, it is only unmatched by Mingi’s own.

“That’s why you let her go.” Mingi’s eyes flash as he bares his fangs at the redcap before him. “Didn’t you?”

Windfel purses his lips, and his silence speaks volumes.

“Speak.” Mingi snarls out the command, the cadence of his voice causing some rubble to crumble to the ground at the side of the courtyard. “Your general asked you a question.”

You can see the surrounding redcaps backing up slowly from the other two, both Lias and Darius shoving Windfel to his knees before Mingi. The captain and the vice-captain under his command may be nefarious, but at least they are loyal. At least they understand respect.

A heaviness settles in the air between the two fae as Mingi towers over the smaller redcap, anger radiating off of him in waves. No one dares interfere in this matter, for they all know what will happen to them if they do. Their general is not afraid to make an example out of anyone.

“The bitch should have died.” Windfel spits. “If not at your hands, then at someone else’s.”

A deadly silence passes over the entire courtyard, and you notice both Lias and Darius suddenly flanking you on either side. It’s as if they’ve stepped towards you for your protection.

At the way you notice Mingi’s hands shaking in fists at his sides, you know this to be undoubtably true.

“Get up.” Mingi commands the fae at his feet, his voice leaving no room for arguments.

Windfel’s brow furrows, but he still does as told.

Little do you see the maniacal look that stretches across Mingi’s features.

“I accept your challenge.”

The entire courtyard goes silent, and you swear you could hear a pin drop. All the colour drains from Windfel’s face as he takes a step back in shock.

Slowly, you watch as Mingi unties that red sash from around his upper arm, wrapping it around his forehead and securing it into place. His claws unsheathe, and you swear all the redcaps around you stop breathing.

“My Beloved Blossom,” The sudden, gentle call of your name from Mingi catches your attention as he stands with his back facing you.

You take a deep breath in.

“Close your eyes.”

[strayrockette]

The Dragon & The Griffin

The Beginning of the Path Masterlist

A/N: The first chapter I put out was a feeler for the story. Since I had a good reception for the previous chapter(Link below), I am exploring the beginning of it all. This was revised on 9/7/24

If you want to be tagged leave a comment, DM, or reblog with an ask to be tagged.

Warnings: Mentions of death

Reblog and like if you enjoyed the chapter and comment with your thoughts!

Previous Chapter

Irene Atreides was not born a Bene Gesserit; she had been Irene, the beloved daughter of House Atreides before she was ever bound to sisterhood—a twist of fate that even the Reverend Mother had perhaps misjudged. The Atreides were a formidable house, their power rooted in loyalty and strength, and no decision made against them was ever made lightly. Alliances were forged and broken, destinies twisted by compromise, even when the path led only to destruction.

Now, Irene stood before a tall mirror in her dimly lit chamber, her swollen belly pressing against the soft fabric of her gown. Her hands ran over the curve, feeling the life that grew within her, a life she had never planned for but could no longer imagine living without. Dark clouds loomed beyond the window, the sky thick and brooding, promising a storm that would ravage everything in its path. The air was dense, laden with the electric charge of impending thunder, and Irene’s breath hitched as a familiar ache rippled through her. She clutched the windowsill, her reflection staring back at her—tired eyes, lined with the weight of secrets and regrets.

Plans within plans within plans. That’s what she had been taught. Irene had not expected her mission to unravel like this, to find herself on the brink of something she could neither control nor fully comprehend. She was sent to destroy the Targaryens, to finish the last of a line that had long been deemed too dangerous to endure. But here she was, far from her purpose, burdened by a love she never should have allowed.

She closed her eyes, memories flooding her—a violet-eyed lover who had captured her heart with a single glance, whose gentle hands had traced the paths of her scars, whose laugh had filled her nights with warmth. She could still feel his touch, his breath hot against her ear as they whispered in the darkness. “We mustn’t,” she’d murmured, but her resolve had been as fragile as glass. His scent—wild rain and mint—enveloped her, soothing her fears. “And deny ourselves?” he’d teased, his smile a promise of a fleeting peace she could never sustain.

A sharp pang shot through her abdomen, dragging her back to the present. She gritted her teeth, fighting against the pain that was both physical and deeply emotional. Irene wanted her daughter to be stronger, to have a heart fortified against the world’s cruelty—a heart that wouldn’t bleed as hers had. Another kick jolted her, and she managed a strained smile. “You fight me at every turn, little one,” Irene murmured, her voice a mix of pain and reluctant admiration. “Just like your father.”

Irene’s body felt heavy, every step dragging as she moved across the room. She gripped the rough bedpost, her knuckles white, her back arched with the strain of impending birth. “I NEED A MIDWIFE!” she screamed, her voice echoing against the stone walls. Footsteps and hurried voices filled the chamber as three women rushed in, their expressions tight with urgency.

Lightning flashed, illuminating the room in a brief, blinding light. Irene’s cries mingled with the storm outside, each bolt of thunder rattling the iron bars of the window. The midwife took charge, barking orders as Irene’s vision blurred with tears, her mind slipping between the searing agony and fleeting glimpses of the life she was about to bring forth. She couldn’t focus, couldn’t find the words, only the raw, primal instinct to push.

Irene’s vision blurred as the storm outside raged on, lightning splitting the sky in violent bursts of light, each crack of thunder reverberating through the stone walls of the castle. She clung to the bedpost, her body trembling with the strain of labor, every muscle taut and burning as she fought to bring her daughter into the world. The wind howled, its fierce cry finding its way through the cracks in the window, sending chills through the air and rattling the iron bars like a desperate prisoner seeking escape.

The room was thick with the mingled scents of sweat, blood, and the faint, acrid smoke of burning candles. Irene’s breath hitched, each inhale a struggle against the weight pressing down on her chest. She could barely focus on the hurried voices of the midwife and nurses around her, their commands lost in the fog of her exhaustion. Everything felt distant and distorted, as if she were slipping between the seams of reality. And then, in the chaos, there was a sudden, eerie stillness. The storm quieted for the briefest moment, the thunder pausing as if the universe itself had drawn in a breath. Irene’s senses sharpened, the pain momentarily dulled as a presence filled the room—something ancient and unfamiliar, yet impossibly close.

A whisper cut through the silence, soft and resonant, like the low murmur of a long-forgotten voice. It wasn’t the midwife or the nurses. It wasn’t her own fractured thoughts. It was something else entirely, something that bypassed her mind and struck at the core of her soul.

"Nykeā zaldrīzes hen vestras." A lone dragon enters the world. The words, spoken in High Valyrian, flowed like a river of molten gold, carrying the weight of an ancient promise. It was the language of her husband’s ancestors, the tongue of the dragonlords whose blood now mixed with her daughter’s. Irene’s breath caught in her throat, the whisper reverberating inside her like the distant echo of a dragon’s roar.

The voice carried a certainty that transcended time, a declaration that pierced through the storm’s fury with the quiet force of fate. It was neither comforting nor condemning, but a statement of undeniable truth, laced with the power of a legacy that could not be denied. The words rippled through Irene’s body, wrapping around her heart like a protective shield, vibrating deep within her bones.

Irene’s eyes widened, tears welling as the full meaning sank in. This was no ordinary birth; this was the arrival of something rare and destined. Her daughter was not just an heir, not just a child, but a lone dragon—a force entering the world that would challenge and defy it at every turn.

Irene’s heart ached with both fear and pride, knowing that her daughter would be alone in ways she could never fully shield her from, but also knowing that Amina would carry the strength of her father’s bloodline, the fire of the Targaryens. “A lone dragon,” Irene whispered faintly, her voice barely audible above the faint rumble of the storm. She looked down at her swollen belly, feeling the tremors of life within, and she knew that her daughter was something far more dangerous and extraordinary than any simple heir. Amina would stand defiant in a world that sought to shape or destroy her, bound to a destiny Irene could only glimpse in her darkest dreams.

The whisper lingered, echoing softly in the charged air, even as the midwife’s voice broke through, urgent and commanding. “Push, my Lady!” The command jolted Irene back to the present, the pain crashing over her once more, but the whisper stayed with her, a haunting presence that refused to be silenced. Irene’s mind swam with images—dragons soaring through storm-ravaged skies, a lone figure standing unbroken amidst the chaos, violet eyes blazing with unspoken resolve. With one final, desperate push, Irene brought her daughter into the world. Amina’s wail pierced the air, sharp and unyielding, echoing against the storm like a defiant cry of existence. The midwife lifted the newborn, her tiny body slick with the blood of birth, her eyes wide and impossibly alive, reflecting the storm’s fury and the promise of the whisper.

“Please,” Irene gasped, reaching out with trembling hands. “Let me… let me see her.” The midwife hesitated but finally placed the baby in Irene’s arms. Irene’s breath hitched as she looked down at her daughter—those vivid, fierce violet eyes meeting hers. Amina’s eyes were a vibrant burst of color, a beacon of hope and fire against the bleakness of Irene’s final moments. Irene touched her daughter’s cheek, feeling the warmth and life beneath her fingers, and for that fleeting moment, the pain receded, replaced by a fierce, unbreakable love. “Amina Targaryen,” Irene whispered, her voice barely holding against the storm’s roar.

“A lone dragon, my sweet. You are born of fire, and you will not be consumed.” Irene’s vision blurred, her strength ebbing as she held her daughter close. The whisper echoed one last time, faint and distant, fading into the ether but lingering in Irene’s heart. She knew that Amina would not be her mother’s daughter; she would be something far more. And as Irene’s final breath left her, the storm outside began to wane, the winds dying down as if in acknowledgment of the new life that had just entered the fold—a dragon, alone but unyielding, ready to carve her path in a world that would never fully understand her.

Translations:

Nykeā lone zaldrīzes enters se lurugon.= A lone dragon enters the fold

____

Taglist: @aoi-targaryen

[exo-raskreia]

How is Gege going to wrap everything up in 5 chapters?! There are still a bunch of questions, things to be resolved:

• Gojo's comeback?! (I've believed in his comeback since 236 cuz there's been hint after hint! Or else, worst character death & I'll forever be salty about it 😠)

• Utahime's potential role in that or something equally important?! (Gege's really wasting her like that?)

• Nobara comeback?! (What about Uta buffing her Resonance against Sukuna's finger?)

• Hakari vs Uraume?! (At this rate, Gege better not waste time on it OR watch him make Hakari offscreen or one-shot/finish off Uraume in a few panels 💀)

• What's gonna happen to Yuuta in Gojo's body?! (He better not stay stuck there—this could ruin YutaMaki—nor die...)

• The Merger?! (Watch Gege kill everyone off & reincarnate in a diff life 💀)

• Kenjaku really died like that? No backstory, his relation to Tengen?

• Tengen backstory?

• Sukuna backstory? No glimpse into the Heian Era?

• Kashimo really just died like that? He didn't even last 💀

• Did Higuruma really die?

• Where are Gakuganji & Ijichi? Are they potentially helping Uta?

• Will Megumi live to find out about Toji like Gojo wanted him to?

• Was Shoko really as uncaring as she seemed towards Gojo & the Horrible Plan? Didn't she want to let him know she's always been there for him?

• The military subplot? (What was the point?)

There's just so much to be concerned about. It's gonna be rushed & bad at this rate. This is Bl3ach all over again 🙄 (a "timeskip married with kids ending" would be the cherry on top... 😒)

I wouldn't be surprised if Yuuji dies along with Sukuna 💀. Or as others have said before, what if Megumi sacrifices himself to bring back everyone—his DE mudra is that of Yakushi Nyorai (Healing Buddha), & his shikigami seem to represent the Ten Sacred Treasures that can resurrect the dead? But still... 😥

If the Merger happens, kills everyone off, & they all reincarnate, my idea for at least a bittersweet ending is that all the adults become teachers/staff in a high school & the kids are the students. Imagine Gojo as a science teacher or counselor or smth, Utahime as the Japanese or choir teacher, Yaga the principal, Shoko the school nurse, Sukuna a sports coach (lol), etc. We could even have a scene of Gojo going to tease Uta in her class, implying GojoHime hasn't changed; and the students go "They're flirting again". 😭

If the Merger doesn't happen, can we at least get a scene of Utahime being pregnant with Gojo's child or showing her with a baby that looks just like him in the future 😭? They were either in a secret relationship the whole time or they got together during the timeskip...

I highly doubt there'll be a sequel or that the final chapters will be longer but who knows. Gege just seems like he's been wanting to end JJK for a long time... Wouldn't be surprised if he releases another fanbook to fill in some of the plot holes 🙄. There's a bunch of things in the manga that I'll forever feel critical about, & I once made a post on it here.

Anyway, we'll see what happens. I shouldn't trust Gege at this point but he might still deliver somehow. The 4th character popularity poll results are coming up with a color spread. Wonder if Utahime went up a rank...

There's also GojoHime's 200% Hollow Purple to look forward to in the anime... 🥹

[definitelynotstable]

Camomile pt. 9 [Ghost x gn!Reader]

pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt. 5, pt. 6, pt. 7, pt. 8, pt. 9, pt. 10

AN: Ok this series just started out as cute one shots and now I have to think of a plot god damn.

Synopsis: The 141 celebrate your return to duty with a night out at the local pub. Ghost and you argue over Price's decision to clear you for duty. Word count: 1.8k Warnings: Casual drinking, mention of past trauma, arguments Ghost x gn!Reader (callsign Rags): Soap doesn’t know what kombucha is, Gaz doesn’t like mulled wine and Ghost gets a bit overprotective. Fluff, light-angst, etc.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

It’s nearly a month till you’re cleared for duty. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t been lonely. The guys were gone for recon missions half the time and you were either stuck behind a desk playing secretary, in physic therapy or in therapy therapy. It was a tiring routine. 

But it didn’t stop you from feeling a little proud when you were able to present Price with a clean bill of health. He’d raised a skeptical brow as he skimmed the mental health section – no one in the military was well in that regard and most of you knew how to con a therapist. The nightmares hadn’t stopped and you supposed they never would. But  you’d stopped jumping at random sounds or flinching when touched unexpectedly. You were fit for work and you knew it. 

“Everything okay, Captain?” You asked, felling slightly nervous. He could, in theory, refuse to accept the medical certificate and write you off. The man instead sighed and with a flick of his pen he signed off on it. 

“You have any problems, you come to me – am I clear?” He said sternly, leaning his elbows on his desk and creating a steeple with his fingertips. “I’m not stupid – wiser soldiers than you and I take years to get over this kind of shit, Rags. No on e would blame you off you needed more time.”

You frown, jaw set. “I’m ready, sir.”

He looks at you for a moment, eyes hard and unwavering – searching for any cracks in your resolve. Finally he nods, pushing up with his hands on the desk to stand. “Alright,” he reaches over the desk to shake your hand, “Welcome back, sergeant.”

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

“Good on ye!” Soap claps you on the back with a grin, “Glad tae have ye back!”

Soap and Gaz had negotiated with Price on the optics of a mid-week visit to the local pub. They never confirmed nor denied his verdict. You suspect permission wasn’t explicitly given. 

Nevertheless, here you were. The three of you crammed into the usual booth in the back corner, a spot with the best view of all possible exists and entries. An old habit. It wasn’t particularly fancy – some might even call it dingy. But you liked the exposed brick walls, the dented and paint chipped bar made it feel homey. You favourite part was the roaring fire in the centre of the wall at the back, cracked leather armchairs with slightly scratchy pillows arranged in front of it. There was a dartboard off to one side, the wall behind completely littered in holes from drunken misses. The health and safety concerns behind having darts in a pub was certainly still up for debate – though you’d certainly spent a few evenings versing Gaz at the game.

“Thanks mate,” you smile over your mug of mulled wine – another reason this spot was a favourite – “Price was a bit hesitant, but I don’t think he could say no to the med-cert.”

“You’d be surprised,” Gaz remarked, some foam from his beer clinging to his upper lip, “he held LT back from an op once, claimed he faked the certificate.”

“And had he?”

“I had.” The low voice makes you jump as Ghost himself slides in next to Gaz, in the space across from you. “In fairness, I was a lot younger than I am now – and stupider.”

“Can’t’ve been that long ago then, mate.” Gaz jokes, passing the Lieutenant the drink he’d bough for him earlier. Ghost gives his arm a punch but thanks Gaz quietly for the drink anyway, taking a small sip. 

“What held ye up?” Soap asks when the lieutenant shrugs of his jacket.

“Bloody paperwork,” he grumbles, “I don’t envy you, Rags. Just a couple of hours has me going mental – I can’t fathom a full day.”

You nod sympathetically, “Yeah, can’t say I’d recommend it.”

“Rags was just tellin’ us Price cleared ‘em for duty,” Soap says proudly, “I said we’d each buy ‘em a drink.”

“That so?” Ghost raises a pale brow at you, balaclava pulled up so he can drink. You blush under his stare. “Not sure how he’d react if you showed up to trainin’ hungover.”

You scoff, “It’s a week night, I’m drinking mulled wine.”

“Surely mulled wine can still get you drunk.” Gaz says, setting his empty glass down with a thud.

You shake your head with a laugh, “They cook it out, Gaz. There isn’t much alcohol left in here at all.”

“But surely there’s an amount you could have that’d do it – like kombucha – right?”

“What in the world is kombucha?!” Soap splutters, licking at the beer on his upper lip. You laugh as Gaz attempts to explain it. 

“Tha’ sounds horrid.” The scot says, looking ill. 

“It’s not bad,” you say, still grinning at Soap’s expression. “I’m sure there is an amount, Gaz, but you’d probably die of overconsumption before getting drunk, or something like that.”

“Boring.” Gaz mutters, flicking his empty glass away, “What’s the point in non-alcoholic wine, anyway?”

“Because they put spices and shit in it – it’s delicious.”

“Doubt that.”

“Here, try some,” you shove your half empty mug in his direction, some splashed onto the table, “it’s good, I promise.”

Gaz wrinkles his nose, pushing the mug away with a single finger, “I’m ok, thanks.”

You roll your eyes and reach out to take your drink back when a pale hand intercepts you. Ghost takes a long sip and licks the excess from his lips, watching you with something playful in his eyes. 

“You’d do well to expand your palette, Gaz,” the lieutenant drawls, setting the mug back down in front of you, “instead of only drinking beer like you’ve just turned eighteen.”

Gaz snorts indignantly, “Ok, grandad.”

Ghost just smirks, sculling the rest of his whiskey.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Though Gaz and Soap are smarter than to get drunk the night before an early training, it still takes Ghost and you a while to drag them away from the bar. 

“Social butterflies,” you scoff, slumping onto the couch in the kitchen after successfully directing the two men to their rooms. Ghost clicks the door to the hallway shut and flicks in the jug. 

“Horny bastards.” Ghost offers instead and you laugh.

“All it takes is for the pair to have a single sip of alcohol and suddenly the pub’s their oyster.”

The lieutenant hums in agreement. “Camomile?”

“Yes please,” you groan, kicking off your boots and sinking further into the couch. You sling an arm across your eyes but still watch the man as he potters around in the kitchen. You smile as he reshuffles the mug shelf to find your favourite mug. He finds it and turns to place it on the bench next to his when he notices you watching.

“What?”

You grin, snuggling further into the couch with a sigh.“Nothing.”

The lieutenant huffs, returning to the mugs. Steam curls around him as the boiling water hits the cool ceramic. God he looks gorgeous in such a domestic setting. You’ll never get over it. 

“Here,” a mug hovers in front of your face, you push yourself up and take it from him with a small “thanks”.

Instead of settling at the table like usual, the lieutenant nods at the other side of the couch. “Scoot.”

You curl your legs under you, careful not to spill your tea as the couch shifts as he sinks down next to you. 

“So,” he says, leaning into the arm of the chair and angling himself to face you, “Price cleared you for duty, huh?”

You nod slowly, unsure where this is going. “Albeit hesitantly, but yes.”

“Hmm.” He replies, taking a long sip from his mug. 

You frown, “What? You disagree?”

“I didn’t say that.”

You scoff, “Ok well that reaction heavily implied you did.”

He leans forward, eyes hard. “I just think – look none of us would judge you if you needed more time.”

“It’s been over a month!” You point out, exasperated. “Price wouldn’t have said yes if he didn’t think I was ready –”

–“I never said I thought you weren’t ready –“

“Then what are you saying?!” You cry, hitting the side of the couch with your free hand, Ghost watches you with wide eyes. “What is your problem?”

“I’m just saying – recovery doesn’t have a deadline.”

“I know that,” you snap, “but I can't keep babying myself. It's been long enough.”

The man across from you narrows his cobalt eyes, “Babying yourself? You call healing from trauma babying yourself?”

“No, I call wrapping myself in cotton wool and avoiding anything that reminds me of what happened babying myself.”

“Or maybe it's about bein’ cautious,” Ghost replies, voice stern and hard as steel, “about making sure you're in the right mental state before jumpin’ back into a warzone.”

“I've faced worse – we all have. I'm not going to let fear control me.” You’re glaring at him now and he glares back.

He shakes his head. “This isn't about fear, it's about being smart. You could be a liability out there if you're not mentally prepared.”

You let out a disbelieving laugh, pushing yourself off of the couch. “So now you think I can't handle myself? That I'm a liability to the team?” 

“I never said that.” He growls firmly. “But if you're not thinking clearly, you put yourself and others at risk.”

“You're overthinking this.” You hiss, “I told you I’m fine.”

“You're not fine!” Ghost mirrors you, pushing himself to his feet where he towers over you, eyes shimmering. “You're pushing yourself into something you're not ready for.”

You push him with your freehand. He doesn’t budge and it only adds fuel to the fire. “And you're being overprotective, as always!”

The lieutenant steps closer, his voice low and intense “Because I care about you, damn it.”

You pause, mouth slightly agape – your retort forgotten. 

“I care about what happens to you out there.” He says, stepping closer, eyes softer now.

“I know,” you say, searching his eyes, “I know you do. And I don’t expect you to understand. I just need you to respect my choice.”

You watch as he sighs, shoulder slumping. “I do understand,” he murmurs, “and I do respect your choice, I just –“

You cut him off by stepping closer, wrapping your arms around him. He tenses for a moment but relaxes in your hold. “I know.” You whisper into his warm chest, “I know you understand.”

He sighs again, arms finally wrapping around you, a hand settling in your hair. “I’m sorry for raising my voice.”

You laugh into his chest, “I raised mine first, I should be the one apologising. “

He lowers his chin to rest on the top of your head. “I know you’ve been trying, I know you’re doing better. I just can’t help but think of how you were when we found you –“

“Shh,” you hush, rubbing small circles into his back, “I’m ok, you got me back. I’m safe.”

A deep breath shudders through his chest beneath your cheek. “Promise?”

You pull away, his arms loosen but still around you. “Promise.”

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Tag list:

@alanalanalanalanalanna

Comment if you want to be added :)

Masterlist

[coralquest]

─ the bunny lamp's promise | Izuku x reader

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭

♡.ೃ࿐ FORMAT: one-shot

♡.ೃ࿐ PAIRING: Prohero!Deku x reader

♡.ೃ࿐ WORDCOUNT: 1.3k

"A lamp that shines so bright, A gift to keep you safe at night, When I'm away and you're alone, This lamp will be your guiding stone.

A symbol of my love and care, This lamp will always be there, To light your way and ease your fear, And remind you that I'm always near."

.

♡.ೃ࿐

As the sun begins to dip below the horizon, the sky transforms into a breathtaking canvas of vibrant colors. The last remnants of daylight slowly fade away, leaving behind a gentle twilight that blankets the earth. 

And as the darkness creeps in, a hush falls over the world. But it seems that someone did not have peace among that silence of the night.

“Don’t worry, darling. I have everything I need.“

“And those sandwiches I made you?"

"And those sandwiches you made me." he smiled caringly, gesturing towards the sandwiches that were nicely packed in a bag. But as much as he wanted to appear positive about everything now, he didn't show much of a progress now that you were here as an escort before his long departure.

"Do you know when you will be back?"

“Right, about that..“

As though lost in thought, his once bright smile faded into wistful expression.

“I cannot make a vow to return swiftly, but of this you can be certain, my love,”

Receiving your tender skin against his drowned like embers, he pulled you closer in the hope that you could hear him with your own ears and heart.

“..my heart is taped to yours, and it shall lead me back to you through storm and tempest, across oceans and mountains. No distance shall dim the flame of my love for you, nor weaken my resolve to reunite with you once more.”

“Oh, stop being so cheesy and come back as soon as you can, alright?” The two of you giggling and smiling like two doves in each other's arms, you came as close to him as your lips could reach his, closing even the tiniest gap in between.

It was a slow and lingering kiss, as if the two of you were trying to freeze time and make the moment last forever, saying goodbye without actually saying so before you had to part ways, once again.

“Oh!-and one more thing..!“

Before you even got hold of his key find, in no time at all you caught your hand, which had been standing shyly behind his back, now holding something in front of you, something packed.

The wrapping paper was forest green, decorated with tiny white bunnies and a delicate silver ribbon.

“For me?“ He gave you a funny look, handing the little gift into your hands once again leaving his lips on your forehead. His eyes flickered towards the digital departure board every few seconds, as if willing the time to move slower, but it was already time for the travelers to finally say their sweet goodbyes, and unfortunately for him, he drifted from the comfort of your embrace, leaving behind the bittersweet memories of your warmth for later.

"Go, go out there and be the hero they didn't even know they needed."

“Right! I’ll be back, honey, kisskiss!“

“Stay safe!“

Watching him go and disappear from your sight, your eyes sparkled with curiosity as you gazed down at the neatly wrapped present in your hands. You couldn't wait to untie the ribbon at home and see what treasure lay hidden inside. And so, 

as you carefully unwrapped the paper, you unearthed something that shone with a golden radiance, like a treasure discovered by a pirate on a sandy beach. But this was no ordinary gold in your still sparkling eyes. It was a precious, priceless gift that would light up your world in ways that money could never buy. The bunny lamp glowed with a warm, inviting light that chased away the shadows lurking in all corners. It was like a small beacon of a lamp, a symbol of love and devotion that will guide you through the darkest nights. 

The bunny lamp’s long, floppy ears stood still, as if they were listening intently to every sound around them. Those large, round eyes seemed to sparkle with inner mischief, as if it were in on a secret joke that only it knew.

As you admired the lamp's delicate beauty, you noticed a small letter tied around the neck. With trembling fingers, you opened the letter and read the heartfelt words written inside, sweet tears sliding down your face. It was a gift from dear Izuku, a token of his undying affection that would forever shine bright in your heart.

Every wonderful night, even if it was raining and thunder was hitting the bushes, you would turn on the bunny lamp, letting it protect you from all the evils and darkness that kept you awake. Izuku’s presence wasn't quite next to you, but it shone with a fiery intensity, surrounding you with the safety of invisible arms that you would have otherwise been wrapped in during the night, even though they were now somewhere far away. On the other side of the world. 

Countless nights have slipped away into the past, but as day and night changed, long weeks followed, turning into months like caterpillars just emerging from their interwoven web. 

Over time, his letters stopped coming to you and to your loving heart, and it also seemed like there was no signal as soon as he didn't answer your calls. You really wanted to understand what was going on, but you thought that he was probably overloaded with work, that it was perfectly fine if he put you aside now.

As the seasons changed and the world around you transformed, you slowly began to realize. The holiday cheer that once brought you such joy now felt hollow and empty, a painful reminder of what you had lost. The mornings and nights stretched out endlessly, with each passing day a struggle to find meaning and purpose in a life that had been shattered by grief.

No longer did the changing leaves or the first snowfall bring a sense of wonder and excitement. The colors of fall were muted and dull, the snowflakes falling like tears from the sky. The once-festive decorations and lights felt garish and tasteless, mocking your pain and loneliness.

Memories of laughter and love of him haunted you every waking moment, a bittersweet reminder of a life that was now gone.

And as the night wore on, thick tears of yours, over the cold moonlight continued to flow down. You clutched the lamp tightly to your chest, its warm glow a reminder of the love you held onto so fiercely. Your heart held both hope and suspicion in equal measure, as you craved for a better outcome while fearing the worst.

Even so, you never lost hope that Izuku would return to you and held on to your love for him, but as the first rays of dawn crept into the room, illuminating the emptiness that surrounded you, you knew that this waiting of yours had come to an end.

With a heavy heart, you turned off the lamp, the only light left in your life now extinguished forever. And as you sat there in the darkness, whispering those final farewell to the man you had loved so deeply, knowing that you would never see him again,

“..you made me a promise, a vow to return to my side.. and the life we once shared, now a distant memory in the wake of your betrayal of those endless years without you. You liar..yo-you big dumb liar! Y-you said you'd be ba-ack! You swore to me.."

The darkness seemed to swallow up your fragile figure, leaving you isolated and alone with your heart that felt heavy and broken, drained of life and joy. You couldn't understand how it still beat with such force when everything felt so meaningless.

You were consumed by your grief, lost in a world that no longer held any meaning. With tears streaming down your face, you clung to the lamp, as if it were a lifeline in the darkness. It was just you and him now, him,─in the soft glow of the lamp.

.

.

♡.ೃ࿐

[moonlightkitsune]

Do you have any dark! Kid/Kaito headcanons? I like your blog a lot.

I don't know if it's dark per se... more like just a hurt/lonely/vengeful Kaito.

Kaito may think of just erasing himself from public record. He's prepared to die if it comes to it....

Kaito may go on the suicide mission of destroying the entire organization by himself, after all. Even against everyone else's advice... he'll do it because he feels he has to.

To me, Kaito is a stray cat that doesn't know how to ask for help.

'Keep your poker face on. Don't show weakness. Don’t let out the dark thoughts. Bury it deep inside.'

That's been ingrained in him for a long time. Kaito needs to learn when it's time to let go and rest. To trust others again, even if it hurts later down the line…

Kaito may hate the police and detectives for letting his father's case fall through the cracks... and if there's police corruption, especially among the higher-ups, then forget it. He won't ask for their help.

Also, he may hate snipers all equally simply because he's been shot out of the sky a bit too much.

Maybe in another world, Kaito would meet the Police Academy Force, and... learn to trust and stabilize his emotions again. His reliable and trustworthy adults...

They might die, and he would be devastated... just spurring on his resolve to do everything himself while hanging onto those still alive to hug... or prevent their deaths and a sacrifice himself in the process... not that they would let him get away with that, but still... they won't leave him alone nor let go of his hand.

The other option...

Kaito takes full control. He may create an organization of his own that gathers info and destroys other organizations... and at some point, gets Vermouth by his side. She's his Neesan, after all. And maybe Furuya and Akai if they're interested.

Or just talk to her about work... and possibly destroy two organizations. Both his own and the Black Organization. The schemes they come up with... *shivers*

They may include Bourbon at some point, too.

Another option: KID is serious now. No more games... and time's running out.

He shoots playing cards at the police, giving them scratches, but not much else. He shoots gunmen and snipers at his heist in the shadows, avoiding as many bullets as possible while making their weapons unusable.

He doesn't ask for help, but he does protect since it's his job. Even when injured, he won't ask for help from anyone. He can't.

He ends up destroying Pandora and the organization... at the cost of his life.

[sashascripta]

A cup of coffee (Luke x male!reader)

This is a request for @thewheat-thins69, hope you enjoy!

Luke pulled out his old roller-skates and eyed them, in a weird amalgamation of disdain and wonder. Rushed to his mind were memories of gliding down the pavement in his teen years, returning home from school, eager to see his dad. His teenage years were the very definition of a mixed bag. It was filled with dreams, hope and energy, the efforts of his wonderful parents, but then tragedy worked its cruel hands in the affair.

He shook off those memories, focusing instead on the wonder. On you. He was absolutely enraptured by you. You were the only person who could bring a cup of Weston's egregious coffee and only receive in turn a mild reproach.

You had started off as friends but Luke couldn't deny his ever-growing feelings for you. Once, as a joke, Lorelai proposed the two of you spent so much time together, you acted like a married couple. You both turned away from each other. He anticipated rejection or puzzlement on your face, you didn't know what to expect on his. When Lorelai noticed both of your forlorn yet hopeful expressions, she went: "Oh my god. Did I just inadvertently play matchmaker or ruin yet another friendship?"

"It's fine," Luke remembered brushing off in his cliched way. "I-I don't know if (Y/N)'s acquainted with your exasperating sense of humour, Lorelai. It probably caught him off guard."

Lorelai had shot an annoyed look Luke's way. "Hello? (Y/N) works at the inn. We spend many evenings laughing at your expense, appreciating my wonderful, perky, very welcome sense of humour." 

She'd turned to you in the middle. "That wasn't even my best work," she reminded you, only to notice how out-of-it you seemed. And by out-of-it, out of the friendly dynamic the three of you shared. Your attention was fixed on Luke, and he seemed to you the only person in the room.

In the way she quickly walked and talked, Lorelai also abruptly took the hint. "I should get going. Rory's home from Yale and claimed to have brought with her a pizza the size of our kitchen table. I didn't think we ever needed that thing but now it seems to have finally found its calling-okay, bye bye." She had stumbled out the door, awkwardly chuckling.

"Luke, I–"

"(Y/N)"

You spoke at the same time, emitting a chuckle that finally cut the tension in the air. "You first," you coaxed.

Luke looked caught off guard instead and swallowed nervously. "So, I-uh, I don't know what to say exactly. I'd be lying if I said I never thought about this, never thought about us. Or that I hadn't thought about this exact moment in my head either, but we're friends and I never wanted to ruin that. I know the move to Stars Hollow wasn't easy for you, and I can't blame you. This place would repel Walt Disney, for god's sake. But I-I can, very awkwardly, say that things here haven't been the same since I met you."

"Luke," you said.

"Wait," Luke interrupted, "before I lose my resolve. Would you like to go out sometime? I mean, can I take you out sometime? On a date."

You smiled, a wave of comfort running through you, at what you wished to transpire but never imagined would so perfectly unfold. However, when you saw Luke's nervous, pleading expression, you wanted to make this moment easier on you. "So long as it's at Weston's!" you teased, provoking another laugh from the both of you.

Now Luke was wistfully rolling back and forth his roller-skates on his apartment ground, thinking about the moment when everything fell in place. God, he neither thought he'd have to recruit Lorelai Gilmore as his wingwoman, nor be so pleased she was there that second.

He set off for the rink Taylor recently opened to compete with that of Woodbridge. He tried not to think about Taylor at that second, lest his mind fill with annoyance instead.

When he got to the rink, he looked round, only to discover how crowded it was. "Luke!" he heard a cheerful young girl's voice. It was Lane who skated up to him. "Come on in. We have a bet on which job Taylor hired Kirk for, and the largest sum is on concession stand!"

Luke resisted the inclination to roll his eyes at what Stars Hollow considered gambling but then spotted you walking in and absentmindedly patted Lane's shoulder. "You go ahead, I'll-uh, catch up." Confused, Lane agreed and skated off.

Luke met you close to the entrance. "Hey," you said with a smile that made his knees weak. You both lingered on the way to greet each other until you ended up in a bear hug. Luke's arms felt so strong and safe, like nothing, not even your pesky worries or doubts, could plague you at that moment.

"I have my skates right here," said Luke. "My feet grew exponentially when I was a kid, we had to buy new ones every few years. Then when I was 18, we seemed to hit a plateau, so I finally fit in these, still." He stopped. "And now I realised I spent the last twenty seconds talking bout shoes, I'm sorry."

You smiled. "No, don't be. I was going to rent but then Lorelai told me Taylor found three different loopholes to hike these prices up and bought a pair of these bad boys. If all goes well, perhaps I'll get to use them again." Luke grinned warmly, which immediately eased your worries. You realised the implication behind your last phrase meant that you were dreaming of a second date and proper future with Luke, but didn't want to be so presumptuous to assume Luke was on the same page. But his smile conveyed an understanding that you actually reassured him, rather than frighten him away.

"So how bout we take a few rounds? If you want a coffee or something, we can stop at the cafe. Or I can take you to Weston's. They do make a pie there which makes me stop thinking about how much butter they use in the crust," Luke rambled once again. When he started talking to you, he felt the need to both confide in you as much as he could in those few breaths and add the necessary provisions to his words, in case you got the wrong idea. He didn't want to ruin anything before you properly explored it.

You laughed, wondering if Luke would ever recognise how endearing he was in his nervousness. You were so sick of men who compensated for their insecurity with brazenness and ego, that Luke was a breath of fresh air. You could tease him and he wouldn't crack. He'd just smile and banter back. He could keep up with you and that felt so reassuring. Everything about him felt secure.

You both entered the rink and skated close to the edge, because everyone was gathered near the middle, in a huddle. You heard Babette argue with Taylor: "You're crazy! Why would you put Kirk in charge of guarding the door?"

You smiled. Stars Hollow was a unique place, that's for sure. But it was also so peaceful yet full of excitement. And it was a community, so people all helped each other and were there for each other, in a way they didn't bother to match in the city. 

You only half-paid attention when Taylor pushed that Kirk was the only one who could spot and stop a Litchfield spy, attempting to copy the design and layout of their rink, to beat it as the best in Connecticut.

Luke noticed your faraway look and said, "To have Taylor's problems." Humour was the way you bonded as friends so he assumed it would carry on in your relationship too.

You laughed politely, only partly in the loop on Luke and Taylor's incessant rivalry. When someone bumped into you and went on in a fashion inconceivable with the camaraderie of the town, Luke grabbed onto you with more haste than was necessary. "You okay?" he asked. His gruff voice had the surprising ability to both calm and ground you. "Why don't we get out of here?" He immediately blushed at the implication and quickly went back on his words: "I mean out of the rink, get you a coffee or something!"

You realised it was getting a bit rowdier, what with Kirk entering the circle and attempting to proclaim his winnings for having bet on himself. "It's rigged now, Kirk, you ruined everything!" Patty protested.

You and Luke walked back to the diner, silently enjoying each other's company. "Ah shoot," he said as you both ambled in. "I know you prefer the coffee at Weston's and I brought you here. Am I a cheap date or what?"

"I don't go to Weston's for the coffee. Yours is far superior."

"Really? Well, I thought everyone enjoyed their whipped cream disasters they call 'specialty,' but that may just be Lorelai and Rory."

You smiled. "There's a time and place for that, but daily, I prefer Luke-Luke's!" You stumbled on your words as well. Luke smiled, turning to pour your coffee and omit the glee on his face.

After you nursed your cup for a bit, Luke suggested you go upstairs and watch a movie, only to, midway on the staircase, remember he didn't own a television. Before he opened the door, he told you this, expecting you to want to return downstairs, but you diverted his expectations.

"No, let's stay. You'll make tea and you keep the good tea up here," you said. Luke hadn't dated a friend before, but he so enjoyed the different awkwardness that came with it. Gone was the embarrassment of having to share with a virtual stranger the intimacy of a couple, on a one-on-one date. What unfortunately lingered was the fear of saying the wrong thing and making it worse. But what was entirely new was knowing the person so well that you could predict what the wrong thing was to say. It is different, though. We're friends and we know each other, and I keep thinking I can't say the wrong thing. But I inevitably do, Luke's mind debated with itself.

He opened the door to the apartment and put the kettle on, while you made yourself comfortable on the sofa, rearranging the cushions the way you knew you liked it at home. You took a sip out of the diner-large cup and sighed in pleasure. Luke made coffee like no one else in Connecticut.

Luke watched you and smiled to himself. He brought his tea and you both finally fell back into comfortable banter and conversation. Neither of you were as nervous as you were when the date began, but the anticipation and slight wariness of saying the right thing remained.

You set your cup down on the coffee table and leaned into Luke slightly. He adjusted you so you were rested on his chest. I'm cuddling with Luke, you thought. I'm cuddling with Luke. You ignored the excitement in your chest and leaned in further. 

[endercreep25]

Okayyyyy so been working on these for a little while now...

13 Sans AU fluff one shots. Some are longer than others, but they're all pretty short-

Uh, enjoy, I guess ^^

I put them under the cut because it's a pretty long post.. lol

Prompt list was taken from here. They are not my prompts.

Prompt 1 :

"Are you always this stupid, or are you just feeling festive?"

Error crossed his arms, glaring at Ink, who was holding the most hideous sweater he'd ever seen. Ink had a massive grin on his face, his eyes two stars, one red and one green. Even worse, though, was the sweater he wore. Obnoxious colors of "festivity" splattered wildly all over it, with randomly blinking and very distracting neon lights. When Error reluctantly agreed to go to this idiotic Christmas party, he certainly didn't agree to wear that horrific sweater. Nor would he go with Ink looking like the idiot he was.

"Come on, Error!" Ink whined, his voice grating like nails on a chalkboard as he frowned, "It's just a sweater contest! The winner gets a plate of Blue's tacos!"

The glitch scowled fiercely, error messages dancing around his dark form, "I am not wearing that."

Ink lowered the sweater, blinking his wide eyes at the other skeleton. His eyelights had changed to a teal teardrop and a purple question mark, "Please....?"

Error stared at him, his uneven gaze lingering on Ink's pleading face, "No."

Ink gave a heavy sigh, his shoulders drooping dramatically.

The glitch felt his resolve wavering as he continued to glare at him.

"Pretty please with a star on top...?" Ink begged softly.

Error groaned, long and low, before he rubbed his hand across his nasal ridge, "Fine. But you owe me chocolate, Squid. Lots of it."

Ink immediately straightened up, his eyelights shifting quickly to the same vibrant stars from before with a joyous squeal. Error regretted his decision already. It only intensified when Ink rushed forward like he had lost his mind, intending to put the sweater on Error himself.

"GET AWAY FROM ME-" Error snapped, scrambling backward with haste.

Ink only grinned in response.

Prompt 2:

"ONE DRUNK ASSASSIN, ARMED WITH A BUBBLE GUN AND A BAG OF MARBLES, IS ONE DRUNK ASSASSIN TOO MANY."

Blue stated his sentence with authority despite the slurring of his words and uncoordinated movements of his wildly waving hand as he leaned across the table towards Ink.

Ink scoffed, yanking the page off the table dramatically, before he mumbled, "Dream got to use his character..."

Blue sat down heavily, the plastic cups wobbling unsteadily as the table shook, threatening to knock over the meticulously set-up display. "DREAM HAS A NORMAL CHARACTER, INK."

"Maybe we should wait to start the campaign until you're both less drunk...?" Dream piped up hesitantly from his side of the table, where he clutched his character sheet in his gloved hands.

Both of the other two turned to glare at him. Dream lowered his gaze, sipping at his cup of water awkwardly.

"WE AGREED WE WOULD START IT TONIGHT," Blue snapped.

"Maybe Dream should be the Dungeon Master instead of you," Ink growled lowly at Blue, "I bet he would let me use my character."

"DON'T BE RIDICULOUS. HE DOESN'T EVEN HAVE A PLOT! I HAVE EVERYTHING PLANNED OUT ALREADY!" Blue fumed his words blending together as he struggled to remain focused on Ink.

"Okay, whatever," Ink scowled, "What if he's a sober assassin?"

Blue paused for a moment, contemplating.

"Fine," He huffed, gathering his notes in a neat pile.

Ink grinned, his smirk mischievous as he winked at Dream, despite his words being directed at Blue, "I'd like my character to enter the tavern."

Prompt 3:

"Aren't fish meant to stay in the water?"

Cross frowned, eyeing the limp form in Killer's hand.

"Yep," Killer chirped, his grin stretching across his face.

His frown deepened, "So... why are you just... holding it..?"

Killer looked down at the silvery fish in his hand and then back up at Cross. "I was going to feed it to the cats. They didn't want it. Then I was going to throw it at Nightmare, but he's in his study."

Cross narrowed his eyes at him uncertainly, "What are you going to do with it then...?"

Killer's grin widened further, and he didn't respond. Cross stepped back, his gaze darting from Killer's face to the fish he still held passively. Horror could hear from the kitchen a panicked wail from Cross and Killer's cackling laughter.

"IT'S IN MY JACKET!" Cross howled frantically, prompting Horror to drop his kitchen utensils with a heavy sigh and head into the other room to quiet them down before Nightmare got irritated.

Prompt 4:

"Look, it's not that I'm not grateful, but I'm pretty sure 30 uncooked turkeys might be a little extreme."

Dream blinked in shock at the grand assortment spread over the kitchen before him. Horror frowned, the sharp edges of his mouth spiking downward. Since the truce had been officialized, Horror had been determined to cook something big for both sides as a bonding experience. What did Dream mean by "extreme"?

The golden guardian continued to blabber nervously, "I mean, there's only going to be the Stars and Nightmare's group- how much can we honestly eat? And what would we do with the leftovers?"

Horror raised one eyebrow at Dream, "You clearly haven't seen me hungry."

His rambling halted promptly, "What?"

Horror chuckled lightly, resuming the tying of his apron around his waist, "I'll probably take care of half of these by myself."

A concerned smile flitted onto Dream's face, "You're funny, Horror..."

"I'm not kidding." He dusted his hands off after grabbing an assortment of seasonings. "Just wait, and you'll see."

"That can't possibly be healthy..." Dream stared.

Horror's hand thudded sharply onto the counter, his voice hardening, "30 turkeys is the amount we need."

The guardian yelped at the sudden sound, nodding wildly, "Okay! Okay... 30 turkeys is fine..."

"I guess we could take any leftovers into the Omega Timeline..." Dream added in an undertone a moment later.

Horror only rolled his eye, focusing on his cooking.

Prompt 5:

"If you're calling to ask me about what went down yesterday, you're wasting your time."

Nightmare's scornful voice spoke from the phone. Dream stifled his sigh and kept a level tone.

He forced the polite words from his clenched teeth, "Nightmare, Ink returned from hanging out with Killer, Dust, and Horror missing Broomie. You and I both know his memory isn't reliable, and I simply wanted you to speak with your team to see if they remembered anything."

Dream didn't voice the thought that since Nightmare clearly knew what he was talking about, Dream had a feeling his brother had something to do with the brush's disappearance.

"Hmmmmmm..." Nightmare murmured at an agonizingly slow pace, "I can't say I know anything about a missing Broomie... I was informed of... other activities... But that is irrelevant. I will speak with them."

"Wait, what? What 'other activities'?" The guardian of positivity scowled in concern.

Nightmare didn't respond, seemingly having left the phone behind while he went to ask the three members.

He returned a moment later, his voice thick with satisfaction, "They don't recall Ink having Broomie at all during their outing."

Dream released a low growl of irritation at the calmness in his brother's voice.

"Although they did say Ink had mentioned not wanting to lose it, so he had left it with someone. Perhaps this is of use to you?" Nightmare smoothly added, a faint hint of laughter in his words.

Before Dream could respond, Ink charged into his study, throwing open the door with a loud bang.

"Dream! I found Broomie! He was with Error! Apparently, I hadn't wanted Nightmare's gang to steal it, so I left it with him! How funny is that?" The artist grinned, his eyelights dancing excitedly from shape to shape and color to color.

Dream sighed heavily, rubbing his hand down his face before speaking back into the phone, his voice tired, "We found him. Thank you for your time, brother."

Nightmare only chuckled lowly before hanging up the device.

Prompt 6:

"Please stop yelling about vampire conspiracy theories at three in the morning. You're starting to make our neighbors uncomfortable."

Sci frowned, putting his glasses on and stifling a wide yawn.

Blue puffed his chest out, "BUT IF I DON'T, NO ONE WILL BE PROPERLY INFORMED OF THE DANGERS!"

"Please, Blue," He heaved an exhausted sigh, "Vampires aren't real.."

"NONSENSE. CLEARLY YOU ARE UNAWARE OF THE TRUTH ABOUT THESE VILE CREATURES!" Blue chirped grandly.

Sci groaned, pinching his nose ridge, "No one in this house will get any sleep if you don't stop."

Blue beamed, "EXACTLY. IF WE STAY VIGILANT, THEY CANNOT ATTACK US IN OUR SLEEP."

The other skeleton only scowled, making a mental note to see if Orange could talk some sense into his brother. Until then, he'd just have to tune Blue out and hope he could get at least some rest.

Prompt 7:

"I don't know what you're talking about. I think eating my body weight in chocolate, after learning about the existence of demons, is a perfectly reasonable coping method."

Cross huffed, turning his back to the other three.

"What, demons?" Horror raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms.

"Yeah," Cross turned back around, snapping off another piece of chocolate to shove in his mouth when he finished talking, "Your 'boss' or whatever."

Killer chuckled, "You think Nightmare is a demon?"

"Have you seen him? Unstable form, evil, dark, and ominous, it all makes sense." Cross retorted, shoving a chocolate-covered finger at Killer's chest.

The skeleton smirked, dark streaks running from his empty eye sockets, "That would imply Dream's an angel, right?"

Cross folded his arms across his chest, responding promptly, "Yes, I suppose it would."

Killer snickered as Horror rolled his eye and walked away, clearly not wanting to be included in this conversation anymore. Dust remained standing passively, his hands tucked in his pockets, face hidden by his hood.

"Wait-" Cross's sockets narrowed suddenly, "No. I didn't- It's not like that!"

Killer laughed, retreating backward quickly and calling out from his cupped hands, "Ohhhh, Nightmare!!!"

"KILLER," Cross howled, jumping up, scattering uneaten chocolate and empty wrappers from his lap, eyes widening in panic.

Prompt 8:

"Oh we're taking the murder route this time? Ok."

Killer rolled his shoulders with a grin. "I love it when I get to have a little fun."

Fresh remained where he was, his hands in his pockets, an unwavering grin that felt very smug to the gang facing him. His glasses flashed back to their usual bold blue and yellow letters against the black background.

Dust didn't move either, and the shadows hiding his face made him unreadable.

Killer glanced at him with a flash of irritation, "What's the matter, Dusty? Scared of the walking pride flag?"

The hooded skeleton gave no response, simply taking an almost unnoticeable step back.

"That dude knows how ta make a smart choice, brah." Fresh chirped in his gratingly annoying voice.

It made Killer grit his teeth, his grin twitching downward for just a moment before he forced it back up with a flick of his wrists, swinging the knives he wielded. "No biggy. I can still kick your [ASH]."

Killer froze, "The hell..? What the [FUNK] was that?"

"Them are some bad words, broski. Can't be sayin' those 'round here," Fresh's grin widened.

Killer felt himself growing angrier. This guy was really starting to get on his nerves. Before he could charge him or even shout another insult, Horror had snatched Killer up, throwing him over his shoulder and teleporting away.

"Tried to warn ya." Dust's gravelly voice spoke from under his hood, tone completely neutral.

Killer growled in frustration, storing his knives away with a flourish: "We coulda taken that 90s freak."

"There are plenty of other places to get supplies, idiot," Horror sighed heavily. "If he could change your words, just think what else he could do."

"Whatever," He huffed, his empty sockets narrowing, "I think you two are just a couple of wimps."

"Heh. Can't just dip on me like that, bro. I got some beef with you now. Totally ruined my vibe."

Prompt 9:

"Please stop responding to every threat with 'Oooh~ Kinky!'."

Killer growled, narrowing his eyes at the other skeleton.

Lust smirked, "Or maybe you should just stop threatening me, darling."

"Not my fault you're a weirdo," Killer crossed his arms.

"Takes one to know one.." Lust practically purred, leaning back against the wall. "And I, for one, find weirdos have the most... intriguing interests..."

Killer visibly shuddered, "On second thought, I think I hear Nightmare yelling at me.."

Lust simply chuckled as Killer darted off, leaving him alone. That is, until Fresh appeared beside him.

The taller skeleton raised an eyebrow at Lust, "That's pretty homosexual, brah."

"I mean, I'm open to anyone who's interested..." Lust smirked wider, "But no, I simply enjoy making him squirm... It's amusing."

Fresh grinned, "Fair point, broski. I've had my fair share of messin' with him."

Prompt 10:

"Stop trying to eat the guests!"

The Ink doll flailed wildly around, suspended by the blue strings.

Error narrowed his gaze at the Fresh puppet opposite the table, moving its hands as he spoke for it, "But Ink! I'm a psychopathic maniac with a disgusting, flailing parasite for a brain! I don't know anything else!"

The glitch smirked, tightening the strings on his miniature version of himself. "I don't know why you invited that freak to the dinner anyway, Ink. You should have known he would cause trouble!"

"Error, please!" the Ink doll cried. "We need you to delete Fresh and save the party!"

The dozen or so assorted dolls bounced wildly, and a murmured, cheering agreement came from Error as he moved his own puppet forward. "Prepare to die, stupid anomaly!"

He cast his strings over the Fresh doll, looping them around its arms and legs before tossing it out of view and proudly placing his mini-self's hands on its hips.

"There you are," The Error puppet nodded proudly, "No need to fear! I have eliminated the threat."

The classic doll strode forward. Error opened his mouth to continue before a loud snicker from behind him nearly startled him out of his bones. He whirled, dolls dropping to the ground as his strings slackened. The stupid squid was leaning on his oversized paintbrush, grinning smugly.

"Wow, Error," Ink chuckled, "Didn't take you to be the hero type."

Error stiffened, his glitches flaring wildly. He could feel a building pressure in his head, either the beginning of a headache or a crash. He didn't really care at the moment. All he wanted to do was bash Ink's skull in and string him up for all eternity. Yeah, that sounded reasonable to him.

Prompt 11:

"Do you happen to have a crowbar? I need one because of reasons."

Ink gave Horror a guarded grin.

"Do I want to know these reasons?" Horror narrowed his gaze slightly, one visible eye trained carefully on Ink.

The artist blinked, his gaze switching to a red 'x' and a green circle, "No, I do not think you will."

Horror paused momentarily, "Does it have anything to do with Error?"

Ink froze, "Uh.. maybe...?"

The larger skeleton relaxed back into the chair, "There's one in the hall closet. Just don't do anything Dream or Nightmare wouldn't."

"Thanks!" Ink brightened, nearly bouncing over to the closet. "That's a pretty vague range you've given me."

"Eh. He probably deserves it," Horror shrugged.

Ink had found what he was looking for, smacking it on his open palm as though testing its hardness, his voice a low growl, "Oh yes, he does.."

Prompt 12:

"To be fair, I wasn't the only one who thought that setting them on fire was an appropriate response."

Killer defended himself with a shrug.

Dream scowled at him, "Who else agreed? I seem to recall you seeing the cows loose in the field and immediately running off to set fire to the forest!"

"Blueberry yelled 'Smores!' when I yelled 'Arson!'" Killer frowned. "I took that as agreement."

Dream took a deep breath, "You're honestly using Blueberry as your reasoning? You're kidding me."

"Uhhh... No?" Killer tilted his head.

"Hey, Dream?" Ink jogged over, his expression bewildered, "Why is there a burning forest?"

Dream simply sighed, "Killer decided that the best way to calmly herd the cows back into their pen was to light the entire forest on fire."

Ink frowned, glancing between Killer and Dream. "Why would he think that?"

"I don't know, Ink." Dream gave an exhausted, somewhat sarcastic, half-hearted smile, "Why don't you ask him?"

"Whatever. Forget it. I knew trying to help out was a lost cause anyway." Killer muttered under his breath, avoiding their gazes.

Dream heaved another sigh, "Killer, come on. It's not a lost cause. You just need a little more practice."

"Yeah. Sure." He practically growled, glaring at the ground.

Prompt 13:

"....Do I want to know why you thought bringing a shovel was necessary?"

Ink squinted at Classic, his eyelights dual question marks.

Classic gazed passively at the small group, "What? I figured digging us out of any sticky situations would be helpful." He tapped the handle with a chuckle.

Ink snorted, prompting Blue to roll his eyes, thoroughly unamused.

"It could help get a handle on things," Classic continued, "Or provide a path for some ground-breaking humor..."

Blue scowled, unamused. Ink, on the other hand, was openly chuckling. Dream simply watched the interaction, keeping quiet.

"Are you done, or do we need to scrap the mission so you can run your comedy club?" Huffed Nightmare with a roll of his eye.

Classic shrugged, "Not a fan of puns, got it." He stabbed the shovel into the ground. "I'd hate to be a stick in the mud, so I'll probably head out. Have fun, fellas."

Dream and Blue blinked in disbelief as he sauntered off in some random direction, abandoning his shovel.

"So he just left. Wow. Okay," Dream murmured.

Nightmare furrowed his brow, "Why did you want him for the mission anyway?"

"I didn't," Dream glanced at his brother, "He specifically asked if he could..."

Ink shrugged with a light chuckle, "Guess he just wanted an audience for his shovel puns. Can't really blame him, I guess."

"Well, I can." Nightmare growled lowly.

Error suddenly opened a portal with a deep scowl, "No, you can't. Classic is perfect, unlike you anomalies." And he was gone as soon as he'd appeared.

Tada! Thanks for making it way down here- I'ma just say on Prompt 9, Fresh is not judging Lust for his preferences. He's simply making an observation ^^

[middleearthpixie]

Something in the Night ~ Chapter Eight

Summary: Following the Battle of the Five Armies, a seriously wounded Thorin Oakenshield returns to Erebor to recuperate and eventually ascend the throne as king. With the deaths of Azog the Defiler and his son, Bolg, Thorin no longer has to worry about the bounty the Defiler placed on his head and can instead concentrate on restoring Erebor to its former glory. 

Nina Carren of Esgaroth has one goal—to make Thorin Oakenshield pay for unleashing Smaug the dragon unto her home—where he destroyed the town and killed her family. The Defiler might be gone, but his bounty remains very much in place, and she fully intends to collect on it. 

Finally, the opportunity shows itself for her to do just that, only to have it go horribly awry. Wounded and now at his mercy, neither Nina nor Thorin stopped to think what might happen, should things not go quite according to plan…

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x ofc Nina Carren

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.2k

Tag List: @mrsdurin @i-did-not-mean-to @fizzyxcustard @xxbyimm @lathalea @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @knittastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @ruthoakenshield @frosticenow @quiall321 @dianakc @msjava1972 @glassgulls @evenstaredits @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @sazzlep

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here. 

Without a sound, she crept closer, concentrating on the dwarf by the fire, her blade in one hand. Her heart beat harder now. Her hand trembled, her blade throwing off flashes of silver and gold as it trembled with her.

She paused just beyond the rocks. Dwalin snored on. The ponies grazed or napped or did whatever it was ponies did at night. There was no one else around. She just needed to come up around the rocks and take Thorin by surprise and in one fell swoop, remove his head from his shoulders. 

It would be easy.

Except it wasn’t easy at all.

Her shoulders sagged, the tip of her blade catching the dirt. “Stop it, you ninny,” she whispered sharply, glaring at the blade as if it somehow offended her. “You can do this. You must do this. He took everything from you. It is his turn to have everything taken from him.”

Her resolve returning, she straightened and took another step, raising her sword as she did.

A branch cracked loudly in the distance and Thorin was on his feet in a moment, sword drawn as he whipped to his left, where the sound had come from, and when he did and saw her with her blade drawn as well, he said, “You stay here. I’ll go and see what that was.”

Dwalin leaped to his feet, his eyes heavy-lidded but otherwise alert and he didn't so much as stumble as he dove for his axe. “What is it?”

Both dwarves started toward the trees and Nina glanced first at her blade, then at their retreating backs. “I’ll come—”

“No,” Thorin tossed over his shoulder, “you will remain here.” 

“But—”

“Do as I say.” He didn't wait for her reply, and although Dwalin shot her a look over his shoulder, he said nothing, just hurried alongside his leader into the trees. 

It would be risky, attempting to do anything with Dwalin right there with them. She was fast, but not that fast. But then again, if they had unwanted visitors, anything could happen in a melee.

Perhaps she should go and see if they needed any help.  

Before she could move, though, they were on their way back, weapons lowered. A hint of irritation fluttered through her. She’d been so close. Again. 

“So, who was there?”

Dwalin shook his head, settling his axe back against its rock. “If anyone was there, they are long gone. There was but only broken branches and trampled underbrush.”

“Should we go look?” She turned to Thorin as Dwalin climbed back into his bedroll.”What if they return?”

“I don't think they will.” Thorin settled back by the fire. “They weren’t keen on facing us, which means that—”

“Perhaps they were going for reinforcements.” 

Dwalin lifted his head then. “Lass has a point.” 

Thorin looked from Dwalin to her and back. “And if we both remain awake, we will be dead on our feet come morning. Get some sleep and if anything happens, I’ll wake you.”

“Are ye certain?”

“I am.” Thorin nodded. “Go to sleep. We go at the first light of morning.”

He glanced over at her then. “You get some sleep as well.”

She nodded, then moved to her own bedroll, laid her sword alongside it, and climbed in. Little by little, the night sounds softened, Dwalin’s snores intensified, and as she lay there, her thoughts growing darker by the moment, she wondered if perhaps Thorin was right about that Mahal being. Perhaps he watched over the dwarf king with the greatest of care.

But, he couldn't watching over Thorin forever, could he?

The only thing that came during the night was rain. It poured down in sheets, made seeing almost impossible and hearing just as bad. They packed up camp as quickly as they could and resumed their journey despite the miserable weather, which only worsened as the morning stretched on. Nina gave up trying to sweep the water from her face as it beaded her skin and dripped from her hair, which hung in limp strings about her shoulders to soak through her traveling cloak and into her skin. She was cold and miserable and each time her gaze alit upon Thorin’s back, irritation and impatience swept through her. 

The trek through the Misty Mountains was miserable at best, as it rained and thundered and lightninged day after lousy day. Sleeping was nearly impossible, since finding anywhere remotely dry was out of the question, so after two days, Nina’s eyes burned and her urge to just end both dwarves and be on her way nearly choked her at times. 

By the third day, they’d found a small cave, thankfully unoccupied, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, Nina sat before a crackling fire, wishing she could just crawl into the flames themselves. Perhaps then she’d be rid of the chill that permeated her, that settled into her bones and refused to leave her be. 

Scowling, she twisted her hair as tightly as she could, until the tendons in her wrists burned from the effort, and wrung as much rainwater from the mop as possible. When the ache grew too unbearable, she let go, wincing as it slapped icily against her back.

“Here. Put this on.”

She looked up at Thorin, who stood above her holding out his oiled cloak. “I don't want it.”

“It’s dry and warm and you are pale as death.” He didn't wait for her to reply or reach for it, but settled the garment about her trembling shoulders. 

The oiled fabric repelled water far better than her coat had, that was for certain. Warmth settled into her, but it did little to halt the shivering. She couldn't help it. “T-thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He settled beside her. “Do you feel ill?”

“It’s nothing a week’s worth of sleep won’t cure,” she told him. “I’ve never been out in such weather for so long.”

Thorin nodded, shaking his wet hair away from his face. “Our timing could have been better.”

“I’m only thankful it wasn't snow.”

“You’re not the only one.” He stared at the small flames dancing before them, then held his hands out toward it. Dwarves were smaller than Men in height, but made up for that difference in build. They were broad across the shoulders and chest, with thick legs, huge hands and thick fingers. 

Nina couldn't help but stare at those huge hands splayed over the fire. He wore jewelry unlike any she’d ever seen—rings the size of napkin holders on the fourth finger of each hand, a silver cuff clipped to the upper part of his left ear, a heavy silver clasp that held his thick dark hair away from his face, small silver cubes had been woven into the braids, one on either side of his head—and each piece bore elaborate etchings of some sort that she did not recognize. 

“Did you forge those yourself?” She gestured toward his hands. “Your jewelry, I mean.”

“No,” he wiggled his be-ringed fingers, then lowered both hands, “I am not that skilled a craftsman.”

Of course not. He was a king. He had people to everything for him, no doubt. Still, she glanced over at him. “I thought all dwarves were.”

“I am the exception to the rule, then, for I am not. I have not the patience for such delicate matters.”

“Really?” She propped her chin on her fist as she met his gaze. “You don't strike me as the impatient sort.”

“I have my moments.” He looked over at Dwalin, sitting across from them, and bobbed his head. “Dwalin will attest to that, won’t you?”

“Aye,” Dwalin replied, also holding his hands out to warm them. “He’s not quite the hothead he once was.”

“Hothead? Now, you must be joking.” She looked from Thorin to Dwalin and back. “I cannot picture that.”

“Believe not what he says about that.” Thorin flexed his fingers once more. “I was never hotheaded, but patience does not always come easily to me.”

“So, if you didn't craft those,” she gestured to his hands, “who did?”

“These? They were handed down to me. A gift from my father.” He clasped those hands now. “Before Smaug—”

He stopped then, and pressed his lips together until they disappeared into his silver-streaked heavy black beard. Nina waited for his to clear his throat or cough or something, and when he remained silent, she said, “What about Smaug?”

“Never mind. Forget I mentioned it.”

“But, what—”

Thorin sharply rose and moved away from the fire, to the far side of the cave, near the mouth, where they’d set their weapons upon entering it. Rain still sheeted beyond the cave’s mouth and for a moment, Nina felt sympathy for the ponies, who remained out in the dreadful weather. 

Thorin stood with his back to them, hands clasped behind him, and stared out into the gloomy darkness. Dwalin cleared his throat. “He does not like to speak of it.”

“Of Smaug?” Nina tried to ignore the sudden twisting in her belly. “Why?”

Dwalin narrowed his eyes at her. “Why are ye so interested?”

“I’m curious.”

“Then ye should ask him.”

“You don't care for me, do you?”

“Don’t care for ye?” He shook his head. “No, I don’t, if ye want the truth.”

“I’d rather that than a lie, of course.” She curled her finger about the damp cloak to pull it more tightly about herself. “But I am curious about that as well. Why?”

To her surprise, that earned her a grin. “Are ye that dense, lass? I dinna know ye. Ye dinna know us and yet… ye just happened to be in the right place at the right time and then ye—out of the goodness of yer heart, it seems—offer to travel with us as an extra pair of eyes. Now, why would I be suspicious of ye?”

“And yet, you are both alive and well despite having spent the last three days with me.” The words popped out of their own. 

“Perhaps ye’ve not had the opportunity yet.”

“Or perhaps I’ve not the desire.” She shook her head. “I’m cold and wet and tired. You and your boss over there could take me apart with your bear paws if you wished. Trust me, I’ve no plan on cutting anyone’s throat in their sleep.”

“My boss?” Dwalin snorted, glancing over at Thorin. “He would love that. And true, a lippy little girl would be little match for either of us. But still… I’m no’ a fool, either.”

No. He wasn’t. But since she couldn't very well say that, she just shrugged. “Believe what you will. But, I promise you, when you both reach Erebor very much alive and well, I’ll not make you eat your words.”

“I’m so relieved.”

“I’m sure you are.” She turned her focus back to the fire, and to trying to will away the chills that still rippled through her. 

She had to be careful now. Dwalin was not stupid. Thorin was not stupid. It wouldn’t take much for her to give herself away, so perhaps she needed to rethink her plan, needed to convince them both they could trust her. 

A hint of leather and earth rose from the cloak as she tugged it tighter still. Thorin’s scent, no doubt and one that wasn’t at all unpleasant. She looked over at him once more, still standing at the cave’s edge, staring out into the darkness. There was no way to know what he thought, but judging by the tension wound across those broad shoulders, those thoughts were weighty.

To her surprise, her first instinct was to offer him a shoulder to lean upon, to help take some of that weight from him. But why? Why should she care what his thoughts were or how much they might trouble him? 

Because I don't care. I would feed him to that blasted dragon myself if I but had the chance.

She scowled. She had to keep reminding herself of that. 

But at the same time, she could still see him, on the steps of the Lake Master’s house, his dark hair flaked white from the swirling snow, a smile on his lips as he surveyed the crowd. Then, his gaze alit on someone and it softened and in that moment, she would have given anything to be the reason why. 

Why did those thoughts insist upon intruding? Why did they insist upon getting in the way of her plan? He was nothing to her. He had never been anything to her. 

“He didn’t know you were alive, little sister. All he cared about was getting the Master to release him.”

“Which he did. And he smiled at me.”

“Or he was smiling at Shalia, as every red-blooded man does.”

“But he is not a Man, and you know it. He is a dwarf. And not just any dwarf, but the King Under the Mountain.”

Lenna let out a low laugh. “I am not calling you Queen.”

“You will when I win his hand.”

She closed her eyes as her sister’s image popped into her mind. It stung, but it also helped chase the foolish sentimentality away, helped to remind her why she was there. 

That was the important thing. It didn't matter how she carried it out, as long as she did. 

[bestworstcase]

How much of Ironwood's decision making do you think is informed by his semblance? Or is it a non-factor?

ooh this one is fun because i don’t agree with ✨any✨ of the common takes that i’ve seen across the spectrum from “mettle is auto-brainwashing” to “mettle is just the trigger he pulls on a gun”

and i need to preface by saying that i have adhd, and i experience EXTREME hyperfocus. extreme like i work from home and enjoy my job so i accidentally pull 14-16 hour days about 2-4 times a month because i’ll get going on a task after lunch and blink and it’s four in the morning. extreme like before i went on meds i needed to set alarms for mealtimes to avoid starving myself to death and that still only worked half the time. extreme like i have to be careful about reading books because i will not stop reading until i’m finished and very long books can prevent me from sleeping multiple nights in a row.

that said i do not and have never experienced hyperfocus as involuntary. i am always surprised by how much time has elapsed, because it never feels like more than maybe half an hour tops and it is always actually more like 10+, but for me hyperfocus is preceded by about 15-20 minutes of normal focus during which i’m fully aware of what my brain is doing and am able to step away if the thing i’m doing isn’t something i want to sink the rest of my day on.

it’s both a fairly debilitating symptom and something that i make a deliberate choice to do for a variety of reasons that are not especially important here. there is risk-benefit analysis involved.

this is basically how i think mettle works, with the sole difference being that hyperfocus requires a specific kind of trigger [complex high-interest tasks] and mettle does not, so ironwood can induce this state at will for any task. besides that, my interpretation of mettle is that it’s deep hyperfocus on a particular task, lasting anywhere from a couple minutes (for very short-term goals) to an entire day but averaging around 8-10 hours at a time for anything involved (paperwork, strategizing), possible to interrupt with difficulty, and involving a mildly altered state of consciousness in the form of a dramatic reduction in sensory and temporal processing i.e. no perception of time passing and inability to perceive sensations like hunger, fatigue, discomfort, people talking to you without getting your attention first, and so forth. it does not cause changes in personality or cognitive function, nor inhibit decision-making except insofar as it takes conscious effort to step away from the task.

mettle as described is “like an iron resolve […] that powers him to [keep going], almost like a very stubbornly, narrow focused mindset on things […] to push himself to do what he’s decided he’s gonna do” or to “push himself through something like searing the flesh off your arm, like if this is the goal he needs to accomplish, everything else goes by the wayside.” and for some inexplicable reason this has been widely interpreted to mean that mettle is a switch ironwood can flip to make himself willing to kill people. no! mettle is how he’s able to flay and cauterize his own arm to escape watts’ trap! mettle is how ironwood keeps himself awake and lucid for a solid forty-eight hours after his fucking arm gets amputated! mettle is why he’s composed and reasonable at the top of volume seven and gradually unravels into an unhinged frazzled lunatic over the months that follow because he’s using his semblance to force himself past the limits of what his body is physically able to endure.

ironwood is a soldier born and raised and indoctrinated into a military state that never quite escaped its prewar fascism. he was always perfectly willing and able to kill people at the slightest justification—“if you were one of my men i would have you shot” was, um, not a joke. that’s who he is. that’s what atlas molded him into, same as it molded clover and harriet and elm and vine and marrow and winter and goddamn near everybody else it touched who didn’t have the means to get out.

mettle didn’t turn ironwood into a murderer—atlas did.

but hyperfocus is not a healthy superpower, ok? it feels fucking great to effortlessly glide through a week’s worth of work in a single afternoon but you have to balance that against the physiological and psychological toll that will take if you try to make that your normal. it’s a day of absolute peak performance and then a crash, and you have to be able to crash. you HAVE to let yourself rest. hyperfocus feels like infinite energy and that feeling is a lie your brain tells you after unplugging all the early warning systems so that your body can’t interrupt you with petty things like hunger or pain, and you HAVE to remember that.

ironwood goes off the fucking rails in volume eight because he believes that lie. he desperately needs to eat and sleep and take it easy while his body recuperates from losing an arm, but mettle can make all of that pain and exhaustion fade away—only it doesn’t actually. the physiological need is still there, getting worse for every minute he spends neglecting it. all through volume seven it’s building up and up until it hits a critical mass after he flays his arm and his cognitive functioning just fucking implodes because his brain physically does not have what it needs to work correctly anymore and the result is this sudden explosion of acute irrationality and emotional lability that just keeps rapidly getting worse and worse and worse because ironwood keeps trying to brute force his way through it with mettle.

i have done this. it sucks. for me the stakes were high school so it mostly looked like a prolonged meltdown and some screaming fights over college applications, but the underlying psychological mechanism driving ironwood’s dramatic tailspin is exactly hyperfocus run amok. in its worst extremity unmanaged hyperfocus is just a horribly destructive and insidious form of self-harm and it will make you completely fucking batshit until you stop.

[evita-shelby]

Hi july for the ssk game:

Is there any active tension within the polycule? If not, has there been tension in the past? How was it resolved? 

When did your OC first know they were polyamorous? 

How does your polycule celebrate holidays? Do they have group events and traditions?

You decide which partner! In my mind is Jack because I don't know if the other two are open to this (Especially Luca), so, it's your choice ❤️❤️

Thanks for sending the ask Flor 🖤🖤🖤🖤

Interesting lol, yeah Jack and Eva would be most likely to have a polycule because Joseph p kennedy slept around with so many famous ladies lol. And while i make au oneshots where eva shares luca or tommy(or they share her), they never happen in the main fic.

National Anthem will have a short term poly relationship with 1920s actress, Gloria Swanson in 1927

Putting the rest under the cut because this shit is long lol

But Eva has been in at least two polycules. One with Antonia and whoever she was dating at the time, amd the other with Diosdado and a fellow adelita named Lourdes who was from Tijuana.

Is there active tension, or has there been a past one?

When did Eva know she was polyam?

There is actuve tension because Eva is extremely jealous and possessive of her partners, and also once the novelty of Gloria fades along with her fame, the Nelsons dump her.

With Lourdes and Diosdado, they would make up after, until Diosdado died in a raid and they decided to break up.

Antonia received radio silence from Eva for dumping her for her cousin, Francisco, from 1919 to 1921.

Eva's best solution for everything is breaking up lol

Eva thought that was just normal, she’d have boyfriends while dating Antonia and love them just as much as she loved antonia. When she was 19 she and Diosdado had a girlfriend named Lourdes who taught Eva how to do the dirty without p in v sex, Lourdes sadly died of consumption shortly after their break up when Eva turned 20.

With Gloria and Jack, Eva met Gloria at the gym run by a hollywood famous trainer and Jack couldn't stop thinking about fucking her at the party thrown to welcome Jack to Hollywood (for business, though these two coudl probably give acting a try). A hookup turned into fwb and then eventually a weird throuple where Gloria is the mistress of both Nelsons.

How do they celebrate holidays?

Since they spent the majority of their childhood together, Eva and Antonia were presumed to be just very close friends lol by their families. With Diosdado and Lourdes, they were in a military camp or wherever they were sent to, so it looked like Lourdes was just chaperoning them even if Panch Villa had like 70 wives at the time.

Gloria is invited to gatherings with the handful of people who know whats going on, they like her so they won't introduce her to the other members of the Riley Clan nor Jack's sister-in-law and Gina.

Do they have group events or traditions?

Eva once went to an orgy with the other members of the polycule where they could for a night they could be out in the open.

Jack, Gloria and Eva love flirting with danger so they've gone to parties, a premiere and on vacation together. There are rumors that they shot a porno(wrong its several) and there's a Renaissance-esque painting of the three of them as Adonis(Jack), Persephone(Eva) and Aphrodite(Gloria) that they will keep even after they break up with her in 1929.

[armageddon-generation]

Rewriting The Power of the Doctor as a finale to the 13th Doctor’s Era instead of an Anniversary Special

PotD's best parts were all 80s fanservice. It resolved none of Chibnall's plot threads, nor did it celebrate 13’s era overall. I’m not fully resolving the Timeless Child as that would need a different plot. But by adding more callbacks and payoffs I hope to strengthen this era overall as a worthwhile investment

International broadcasters split PotD into 2 episodes, and its first edit was 2 hours long. I’m thus splitting it from 1 85-min special to 2 60-min specials

Forgive my cringe attempts at dialogue.

What changes would you make to the story?

PART 1

The Thijarian Assassins from 11x6 Demons of the Punjab appear in the background throughout the episode, like the Ood in the buildup to The End of Time, 

Karvanista & Tie-ins to The Battle of Ranskoor Av Kolos

Swap the space train in the opening for Karvanista, Bel & Vinder from Flux, transporting cargo for the Coalition of Galaxies from 11x10 The Battle of Ranskoor Av Kolos

Bel: Being boarded by Cybermen once was more than enough for me, thank you very much.

Karvanista recognises the Cybermasters’ regeneration.

When 13 sends Dan to stop the ship crashing he spars with Karvanista again:

Dan: Hello Muttley my son, it's been a while

Karvanista: Just what I need. Leave, you'll only make everything worse-

Dan: Rubbish, I just need to wave my space wand and-

[the ship accelerates]

Karvanista: 'Space wand'? Bloody useless! In my day she didn't need that rubbish.

Dan: Eh?

He is still bitter- he doesn't want to be saved by 13 and when she fails to stop the Cybermasters he rips into her.

13: You lot are working for the Coalition of Galaxies now? Why?

Karvanista: Because two-thirds of the universe got destroyed and then suddenly reappeared after weeks of chaos. They need all the help they can get, and you certainly weren't offering, were you?

The cargo they carried isn’t the alien made  of pure energy. Instead it’s the young Ux from 11x10 The Battle of Ranskoor Av Kolos, an omnipotent species who followed 13's advice to ‘travel hopefully’ and was using its abilities to help rebuild the universe

Karvanista has a heart-to-heart with Dan after his near-death experience, encouraging him to leave 13 before she leaves him. Closure for their relationship.

Afterwards, Yaz asks why Karvanista was so angry. 13 finally opens up to her, last-minute character growth to make her regen more tragic:

13: We used to travel together. When I was Ruth. Remember her?

Yaz: Of course.

13: We were... sort of time spies together. For Division.

Yaz: The people who sent the Weeping Angels after you?

13: And the Judoon after Ruth. But my memory of that time was taken and I don't want it back. I want to focus on now. On our moment. On you. And Dan-

Dan, from the doors: You don't have to come back for me.

13, closing her eyes. Taking a steadying breath: Oh. Right then. OK.

13 REPLACES DAN'S HOUSE because leaving him homeless is careless and callous.

13: I get it. Life's important. Home's important. Speaking of…

[She produces Dan's miniaturized house on a little metal disc]

13: Just press the button and this should take care of itself. That, or you'll be transported to the moon. Worth a shot though, eh?

Dan: You just had that in your pocket ready to go?

13: I knew you'd ask to go back eventually, Dan. When you did... I didn't want to be holding you hostage.

After Dan leaves, instead of an out-of-nowhere rogue Dalek, 13 is contacted by the Order of the Custodians, the group from 11x11 Resolution, who guarded the divided pieces of a Dalek Scout for centuries. Being dedicated to fighting Daleks, they're investigating an incursion on Earth

The Cyber-planet is a dead, Cyber-converted Gallifrey, after 12x10 The Timeless Children

The Ux is hooked up to the planet in the same lab Tecteun experimented on the Timeless Child in

The Master is using the Ux to maintain his cyber-constructs like Tim Shaw did his fortress. By saving the Ux again 13 comes full circle from her first series.

As a young, omnipotent alien all-but alone in the universe, the Ux is a direct parallel to the Timeless Child. In a way, 13 is saving her younger self

Once they've found the Ux, 13 calls Karvanista & co to retrieve him. Karavanista comes alone (Karvanista > Vinder). After crashing he reports to Mark Addy’s character from 11x10 The Battle of Ranskoor Av Kolos, via video screen. He promised to keep the Ux safe after that episode

Karvanista recognises the Master’s perverted TARDIS exterior. It brings back bad memories.

The Master & Nikola Tesla

Ra-Ra-Rasputin is great, but I’m swapping the Master taking over the Winter Palace for Wardenclyffe, the power station from 12x4 Nikola Tesla’s Night of Terror

We open on Tesla, years after we met him, stumbling out of the realtor’s into the rain. Wardenclyffe is being foreclosed and he is penniless

Tesla walks down an alley and in a flash of light is transported to the Kassavin’s dimension from 12x1-2 Spyfall. 

Tesla: What- where am I? Fascinating. What manner of construction is this? [hears rustling] Who’s there? Did you build this place? Please… you should know this isn’t my first time meeting creatures from beyond. If… If you want my help, my skills… perhaps a deal could be negotiated.

Distorted voice: Want your help? No no, I am going to help you, Nikola Tesla. With my help, your skills will change the universe.

Tesla: This place… did you build it?

Voice: No. But I was once trapped here, for an eternity or two. I picked up a few things. 

Tesla: Who are you?

Voice: I am the Doctor.

Tesla: Doctor?! You’ve come back for me- Is being trapped here why you never came back? [the Master appears] ...You are not the Doctor

Master: Not yet. But you’re going to help me with that.

He hypnotizes Tesla into building the cages that will force 13 to regenerate.

13’s favorite historical figure making the thing that kills her is a huge personal blow. The Master rubs in 13’s face that by ‘abandoning’ Tesla & letting history take its course, she let this happen.

Ryan & Graham replace Ace & Tegan

Ace & Tegan were the best parts of PotD imo, but bringing in Classic companions last-minute doesn’t help tie up 13’s era 

Because I cut Rasputin, swap the missing paintings for tech-savvy Ryan investigating a sudden acceleration in Earth's technology. 

He tours VOR (Daniel Barton’s Google stand-in tech company from 12x1 Spyfall). At the end of that story Barton went on the run, so without him the company should have collapsed. Instead it’s leading a worldwide tech revolution.

It’s not just VOR; history itself is changing. Technological advancement is accelerating decade by decade. The microchip was invented 30 years early etc

After leaving, Ryan hosts a group video-call: Graham is investigating the missing Seismologists with the Three Idiots Roaming from 12x6 Praxeus. At the end of that story they left to travel the world and protect it from environmental disaster, so they fit well for the volcano subplot

Travel-vlogger Gabrielle is with Graham (she and Ryan are dating, building on the suggestion of flirtation in Praxeus, and Graham jokes about it) while couple Jake and Adam are investigating elsewhere. 

Reuniting with the Fam & the Daleks’ trap

13 remarks on Earth’s accelerating technology seeing UNIT’s new building. It’s part of a chain of cutting-edge facilities across the globe, designed as refuges for humanity in the event of another disaster like the Flux

13 & Yaz awkwardly reunite with Ryan, who has traced the acceleration of Earth’s technology back to a now super-successful Nikola Tesla in the 1920s. He shows them several newspaper articles, starting with NIKOLA TESLA’S NIGHT OF TERROR!, that show Tesla’s fall into ruin after they left him. A somber moment. But then Tesla re-emerges with a new ‘business partner’; the Master. The final article shows them taking over Thomas Edison’s factory 

Graham contacts Ryan; he and Gabrielle have followed their lead on the Seismologists to a university; we watch them enter via Gabrielle’s camera, when they’re captured by the waiting Master

13 books it over there, high-tension, but the Master is just waiting for her to arrive.

UNIT arrives from another of their brand new facilities

Graham goes to UNIT with the Fam and the captured Master, but Gabrielle stays behind to help UNIT with the dead seismologists. She gives Ryan a parting kiss that Yaz makes fun of. He notes how much closer she and 13 are, which shuts her up

At UNIT, the Order of the Custodians call 13: They’ve infiltrated the Dalek base in the Bolivian volcano, unaware the Daleks are using them as bait.

In the Volcano, the Order try to give 13 a Dalek-killing chemical weapon they developed testing tiny samples of the Recon Scout mutant, when the trap is sprung

The Order are killed. Instead of trapping 13 in a Dalek casing a mutant puppeteers her, one of Chibnall’s best gimmicks

13 gets the Order’s Dalek-killing weapon to Yaz as she’s captured, and Yaz flees to the TARDIS as the Daleks open fire. The Order’s weapon will replace Ace’s Nitro-999 later

Cyber-Attack & the Master in Wardenclyffe

No miniature Ashad: Instead the Cybermen appear like the Kassavin did in 12x1 Spyfall, in a blaze of white light, and invade from that pocket-dimension

This is how they appear on every floor at once: Army of Ghosts callback!

The Master escapes and travels to 1920s Wardenclyffe, where 13 is held captive

On using Tesla:

13: You’re telling me our Great and Powerful Master needs a lowly human inventor to work on his machines?

Master: Of course not.

13: Then why go to all the trouble of enslaving Tesla?

Master: Why? Why use one of your favorite scientists? The inventor after your own hearts, who you fought side-by-side with before abandoning him to the cruel fate history dictated? I found him penniless and alone! Your fault. You had the power to step in, the power to save anyone. Everyone! But you never had the vision to. 

Like international broadcasts, the forced regeneration is the cliffhanger for Part 1

PART 2

The Master-Doctor 

The Master possesses 13’s body, calling back to the TV Movie. This is so Jodie can play the evil Master-Doctor, showing off her range and giving her more screentime in her final story (plus Sexual Tension with Yaz)

Expand the Master-Doctor’s rampage. The Master brings the hypnotized Tesla along to restrain Yaz.

She leads a jailbreak, blowing a hole in the Judoon prison from 12x11 Revolution of the Daleks. Angela the Angel abducts a Judoon through the flickering lights; the P'Ting eats one of the guard's guns.

Master: This is payback for locking me up! [to the escaping prisoners] when you're out there spreading chaos through the universe, tell them the Doctor sent you!

Then, the twin planets he visits are the ones from 12x7 Can You Hear Me?

Yaz watches helplessly as the Master introduces the planet’s peoples to the two evil gods- the enemies who affected Yaz most- and promises they will be just and noble rulers. She then encourages the gods to 'play' with her gift. 

The TARDIS jumps forward in time to show the planets a war.

Yaz overpowers Tesla to lock the Master out

Fugitive Doctor: Guardian of the Edge

The Classic Doctor cameos were great but I’m cutting them for the same reason as Tegan & Ace. 

13’s personality has been buried deep in the Doctor’s subconscious, where she meets the Fugitive Doctor, also repressed long ago. The Fugitive is our Guardian of the Edge, trying to save 13 from the same fate that befell her

The Fugitive shows 13 a flashback of the ‘reality’ behind the last part of the Brendan visions in 12x9 Ascension of the Cybermen- namely his memory being wiped, which wasn’t covered in 12x10 The Timeless Children

The Fugitive has her regenerations reset by Tecteun, in the same lab she experimented on her in as a child, the same one the Ux is being held in on cyber-Gallifrey

Tying up more of the loose ends from the Timeless Child arc leaves a blank slate for the next era. I don’t like the arc but the least Chibs could do is clean up his own mess before leaving. 

Fugitive: And now the Master has stolen Mother’s favorite punishment-

13: Don’t call her that.

Fugitive: She might be dead and she might’ve been a monster, but Tecteun is all we had. Now he’s out there making a monster out of us too, just like she always wanted-

13: Tecteun was not my family. We make our own family, you and me. Everywhere we go. Speaking of which… 

Cybermen and Daleks

Keep the hologram implants, letting 13 have final moments with Ryan & Graham

Graham gets Tegan’s job helping Kate fight the Cybermen at UNIT. 

It'd be cool if Ashad confronted Graham about his cancer

Ashad: You think you are rid of it but the traces linger. The ultimate betrayal of the flesh. Does the thought of it returning keep you up at night? We can free you from that fear!

Graham: Fear of death is what makes us human. It's what makes us value our time. Sure I suffered. But I found meaning in it too. I fell in love. You'll never know what that's like. And I feel sorry for you.

I was always bothered by the contradiction of the Daleks trying to destroy Earth when the Cybermen want to convert it. So, my adjusted Cyber-plan is to take over the new UNIT strongholds across the globe. When the Daleks blow the volcanoes, people will evacuate to the UNIT strongholds where the Cybermen will be waiting to convert them

(I basically stole Harmony Shoal’s plan from The Return of Doctor Mysterio but shhhh) 

Meanwhile, the Three Idiots Roaming feel the volcanoes start to activate, and lead the evacuation of people living nearby to the UNIT strongholds, but the Cybermen are waiting and trap them

 Ryan gets Ace’s role, parachuting off the roof (a big moment highlighting his dyspraxia). 

Yaz collects him and they save the Three Idiots from the UNIT stronghold, letting the evacuees flee.

Yaz drops Ryan and the Idiots under the volcanoes, using the Order of the Custodians’ anti-Dalek weapon to fight them as Ace did

Meanwhile, once Graham saves Kate from conversion she self-destructs all the UNIT strongholds around the globe, stopping the Cybermen

Saving the Doctor

Karvanista gets Vinder’s role shooting the Master. He also comes face-to-face with the hologram of the Fugitive, his Doctor.

THASMIN KISS immediately after Yaz saves 13, when her guard is down in her post-regeneration haze, overcome with joy at being alive again. This makes their parting more tragic, but 13 doesn't look cruel like she would for initiating that intimacy when she knows she's dying, opening a door she knows she can't go through

After 13 has been saved, the Fugitive-hologram and Karvanista have a heart-to-heart like 5 & 7 do with Ace & Tegan in the original, giving him closure & resolving his bitterness.

Once freed from the Master's hypnotism, Tesla goes in the TARDIS and helps fix Karvanista's ship while 13 deals with the Master's TARDIS.

Once free, the Ux destroys the Cyber-constructs grafted onto Gallifrey’s architecture

Instead of the ‘what a universe. I’ll never understand it’ line, 13 looks back: We get brief flashes of Tecteun's experimentation on the Child and the Fugitive's forced regen, which both took place here. 13 finally makes peace with that loss and leaves it behind

The lasting effects of the forced regeneration are what kill 13. Like slow radiation poisoning.

Thasmin & Demons of the Punjab Callbacks

THASMIN HUG. 13 removes the hologram implant from Yaz, but then gifts it back to her as she leaves- the same projector she had in 13x5 Survivors of the Flux.

 She says "This is us. Our moment in time.", calling back to the watch from 11x6 Demons of the Punjab

It'd also be nice to call back to 13’s speech on her family from 11x1 The Woman Who Fell to Earth:

Yaz: I'm not sure I can do this without you. You helped me.. helped me learn who I am-

13: And now you know. You don't need me, Yaz. I needed you in the end. Look at everything you did today, on your own. You saved me. You led everyone. Just- carry me with you, if you can. Just do that. What I would've thought and said and done. Make that a part of you. So I might be going from the universe, but I'll never be gone from you, eh?

Yaz, huffing through tears: What would the Doctor do?

13: What would you do?

As I’ve cut the Classic Companions, I’m replacing the Companion support Group with Yaz’s anniversary dinner with her sister Sonya from 12x7 Can You Hear Me, commemorating when she ran away as a teen.

In contrast to the lonely, somber affair of that episode, this time Yaz has invited Ryan, Graham, Dan and Diane round, as well as her parents and grandmother

Ryan's dad Aaron could also show up since he never appeared again after Resolution

13’s ‘Fam’ has become Yaz’s extended family and support network, highlighting how much she’s grown

We leave the companions with a similar sentiment to Graham’s idea of telling stories from the original. Yaz is ready to open up to her family and tell them about her time with the Doctor.

Intercut 13 leaving the TARDIS with Yaz calling back to Ryan’s opening line from 11x1 The Woman Who Fell To Earth:

Yaz: So tonight, we want to tell you about the greatest woman we ever met. Smart. Funny. Caring… Special. Proper special. 

The Thijarians are there to witness 13’s regeneration. They exchange a look of understanding with her before she goes

The story now ties in plot-threads from Series 11 (Demons of the Punjab, The Battle of Ranskoor Av Kolos & Resolution), Series 12 (Nikola Tesla's Night of Terror, Praxeus, Can You Hear Me? & Revolution of the Daleks, as well as The Timeless Children) and Flux (Karvanista). Paying these plot threads off retroactively gives the era thematic unity, validating viewers’ investment. 

As it was, PotD’s refusal to resolve anything made the whole thing weaker and less worth investing in overall.

art credit to @lostcosmos and @softest-butch!

EDIT: I have now written a fic exploring some of these ideas, linking the Chibnall era together and giving the characters more closure. Check it out if you'd like!

[oopsalltropes]

✗ next ch.3

Chapter 2: The Challenge

Dunk walked down a familiar street in his neighborhood, his gaze enchanted by the nature surrounding him. His face exuded warmth and kindness as we greeted fellow faces he knew. He loved this part of Bangkok, the gritty, bustling alleys filled with vendors. The smells of the street foods the hum of life that never ceased. Dunk loved it here. He was well known and trusted by many. He protected the people around him, he wasn’t just a soldier in a gang. The Red Serpents were more than a gang to him— they were family. Bounded together by loyalty, history and a fierce pride that outsiders wouldn’t understand. Loyalty was everything to Dunk.

He knew what it was like to come from nothing, to live on edge, fighting to survive. The Serpents had been a one way ticket out of that life. He would give anything for his family and gang. He expected the same respect from every single one of them as well. Sure The Serpents might not have the same polish or wealth as the Dragons, but Dunk didn’t mind. The Dragons represented everything he hated: arrogance, greed and a belief that power can buy you respect. Dunk would rather douse himself with gas and light a match than to be like the Dragons— like Joong. Dunk always heard stories about them, how controlling and cold they are. Joong couldn’t stand a leader like Joong who saw people as puzzle pieces, a means to an end.

To Dunk people weren’t disposable; they’re worth protecting, he’ll risk his life for his people. But don’t mistake his loyalty for weakness, he knew when to be ruthless. When someone threatens his family or people Dunks warmth turned to fire. And while he didn’t see power to be seized at a cost, he knew when to wield it when necessary. People underestimated him because of his loyalty and compassion, assuming he’d hesitate when it truly mattered. Dunk has and will continue to prove time and time again to do whatever it takes to protect the people he loved. He reached for the Serpents headquarters, a nondescript building tucked away in the backstreets. Members hung out, strategizing their next moves and crack jokes over dinner. Dunks father, the leader of the Serpents, sat at the back surrounded by advisors. They all looked up distracting by Dunks entrance.

“Ah, Dunk you’re here,” his father greeted, pride evident in his voice. His father might’ve been tough, unpolished and intense leader, but he earned his position for his loyalty and strength. Not manipulation. Dunk nodded, showcasing his father his rare small smile.

“Always,” he replied, scanning the room filled with his brothers and friends. He sat in his usual seat, one of his closest friends leaned in, murmuring, “We’ve been hearing around that the Dragons have been planning something big.” Dunks expression darkened at the mention of their rivals. Not surprised by the news Dunk leaned back in whispering in his friend ear. “Let them plan,” He replied with a steely resolve, his jaw set.

“If they’re looking for a fight, we’ll give them one.” Although he didn’t have Joongs calculated ruthlessness, nor did he fucking want it. But loyalty runs deep in him, his loyalty was strength and he knew how to turn it into something that’ll burn his enemies down.

When the long meeting finally had wrapped up one of Dunks friends pulled him aside, a serious look on his face. “Dunk, I know you’re not going to like this,” His friends voice low and wary. “Word is that Joong had set his eyes on you.” Dunks eyebrow shot up, along with his heartbeat. A surge of angry flaring throughout his whole body. “What the fuck do you mean by ‘had his eyes on me’? And what for?” His friend hesitated, his eyes glancing around making sure no one else was listening.

“Apparently, he’s been looking through profiles of rival gangs for… some kind of weird alliance. And from what i’ve heard, he’s got a sick and twisted interest in you.” Dunks jaw clenched as he processed the words coming out of his friend’s mouth. God why'd it have to be me? Dunk thought. He hated Joong, very well known to him might I add. And now he wanted Dunk? God the thought turned Dunks stomach. “Do you know what kind of alliance?” Dunk asked, his voice bitter and hard.

“He’s got to be dumb as rocks if he thought I would’ve ever agreed to do anything with him.” Dunks voice tight and on edge. Dunks friend shrug his shoulders. “He’s probably looking for potential matches,” His tone laced with disgust.

“Marriage. Apparently, he thinks you’re the ‘perfect candidate’.” Dunks fists tighten at his sides, knuckles turning white. Joongs arrogance of assumption— the idea of he could just pick anyone he wanted, regardless of the other’s feelings— made Dunks blood boil.

Dunk knew this was some strategic move on Joongs part, trying to slide his way and tighten his hold on Bangkok by forcing a union with us—The Red Serpents. But to Dunk, it was just downright offensive: went against everything he stood for.

“Is he out of his fucking mind?!” Dunk spat, voice laced with fury. “He just thinks he can just claim me as a possession?” His friend nodded, sharing Dunks anger. “He probably sees this as an opportunity to control us. If you’re tied to him it’ll make us look weak— another game.”

Dunk knew Joong interest in him weren’t genuine. “If he wants to play a game, i’ll give him one. But he has another thing coming if he thinks he can just take me.” His friend watched him warily. “Are you sure Dunk? He’s notorious for getting what he wants. Are you sure you’re up for this?” Dunk scoffed, the anger in his chest turning into a hardened resolve. “Let him try. I’m not afraid of him. I’ve dealt with worse and i’m not gonna back down.”

After the meeting, Dunks thoughts swirled with a simmering mix of anger and determination. Joong may have chosen him as a next target, but Dunk wasn't one to be easily intimidated-or conquered. For the first time in Dunks life he looked forward to meet Joong face to face. He wanted to see how far Joong will go to get what he wants. Dunk would make sure Joong will know what he would get into.

The next morning Dunk didn't waste time to rush to his fathers office. He cut through the bustling morning streets with determination that made people instinctively move aside. The more he thought about Joong claiming him his blood boiled. He needed to clear things up with his father, to understand why this so called alliance- or Dunk likes to think of as an insult- was even on the table. As we pushed open the doors to the headquarters, he saw his father seated in his usual spot. His father held up a cup of tea in his hand a thoughtful expression on his face. Several advisors and trusted members surrounded the room. Probably discussing plans for their territory. Dunks father noticed him and mentioned for him to come closer.

"Son," his father greeted, setting his tea down. He showcased Dunk with a clam smile. "You're here early. Something on your mind?" Dunk didn't waste time with pleasantries. "I heard about Joong," He said, voice hard. "I heard he's looking at me for some alliance."

He pauses trying to read his fathers face. Nothing. "Is this true?" Dunk continued. The room was quiet. His fathers expression guarded, unmoving. "Yes. He proposed to me an alliance." Dunks eyes flashed with anger. "He believes a union would strengthen both of us."

His father continued. Dunks body shook with anger. "And you're actually considering it?" His father sighed folding his hands in front of him. "Joong has influence, Dunk. He's wealthy, organized and powerful. They have connections in places we don't. This could be a perfect opportunity to expand without any bloodshed. I know you hate this idea, but-" "Of course I hate the idea," Dunk interrupted, his voice fierce. "Joong doesn't care about us, or this neighborhood. He doesn't care for anything we stand for. He just wants us for his own control, to make us another tool he can use whenever he wants. You really think he'd respect us, even if we went along with this?" HIs fathers eyes narrowed slightly, this calm façade slipping just a bit.

"This isn't about respect its about survival, Dunk. They're not our friends but they're also not our enemies- at least not yet. By allying with them, we could avoid unnecessary conflict." Dunks clenched his fists, fighting the urge to yell.

He always respected his father's pragmatism, the way he put this family above anything else. But this just felt different. This wasn't just another gang to gang negotiation. This was Joong, a man who believes loyalty is something to buy. "I don't trust him," Dunk said. Forcing himself to speak evenly. "I don't believe for a second that he's looking for an equal partnership. He just wants control, plain and simple." His father was silent for a moment, his gaze heavy. "You're right about Joong," he admitted, tone weary.

"I don't trust him either. I wanted to tell you about his interest before making any decision. You're not just another member of this gang, Dunk. You're my son. This affects you as much as it does the Serpents." Dunk took a slow and steady breath, surprised by the admission. His father rarely showed hesitation, he was usually direct and sharp in his decisions. Dunk realized his father was also as conflicted about Joongs proposal as he was.

"I'd rather we stay on our own, even if it means we have to work and fight for every inch. We don't need to the Dragons to survive. You taught me that." His father studied him, his expression unreadable. Finally, he nodded. "If that's how you feel, then I respect it." Dunk blew out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Weight being lifted of his shoulders. "But Joong doesn't take rejection lightly. This decision could put us in his sights, Dunk. He might come after you."

Dunk's jaw tightened, but he met his fathers gaze without flinching. "Let him try. I'll make sure he regrets it." The room still as silent as ever, everyone watching Dunk and his father with a mix of concern and pride. His father gave him a small and approving nod.

"Alright," he said, his tone resolved. "If this is what you want, then we stand by you. We won't we bought." Dunk silently thanked him and left the headquarters. Dunk knew he would soon have to confront the man. Joong may have all the power and wealth but Dunk had something else entirely- a fierce, unbreakable loyalty and a fire that wouldn't be easily extinguished.

ch.3

[berryyuni]

let me go - lhs

✿ heeseung can't seem to let you go. it's been months since you've broken up. but he's doing everything in his power to win you back. all he wants is to have you back in his arms... but is it even possible? are you even willing to try again?

pairing - ex!heeseung x gn!reader genre - exes to strangers, angst wc - 1.8k warnings - heeseung is in denial, reader is kind of harsh and avoidant, misleading in some ways, unhealthy relationship

tiana's note 🎀 - this is my entry for @okwonyo's celestial ballet event !! this was inspired by bills by enhypen. i had lots of fun writing this one-shot, i'm actually super proud of this. i hope you all enjoy <3

౨ৎ reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated !! <3 ✧˖° ... (library)

if you could have a dollar every time you heard someone say to never be friends with your ex, you would be a millionaire by now. you never really understood why. what happens if you end on good terms? what could go wrong? well, a lot apparently.

it's been a few months since you and heeseung broke up and it certainly hasn't been easy for the two of you. you ended your relationship on a mutual note, however you were the one that presented the idea in the first place. life got too chaotic and you felt like you'd be wasting heeseung's time if you kept stringing him along. you barely got to see him on a daily basis so that already put a strain on your relationship. you didn’t want further problems to occur and actually have something terrible happen between you two so you figured that ending it earlier on would spare a lot of the pain. 

you’d think the break up process would be easy. you break up and move on with your life - with no contact whatsoever. well, that’s not exactly the case for you and heeseung. there’s no such thing as no contact for your situation. you talk and see each other pretty often. too often actually. it’s almost as if you never even broke up. the two of you would do the things you would use to do - minus all the affection, of course. these things consist of running errands together, going out together, and having sleepovers. all the things ex-lovers shouldn’t really be doing. 

when heeseung suggested for you to remain friends after the break up, you weren’t necessarily opposed to the idea. it’s not like things ended badly between you. you were okay with having him in your life still. that was until everything started falling into place - for the worse.

in heeseung’s mind, being friends and staying in contact with you meant that there was a chance for you to go back to how things were, you being with him again. this was all part of his plan actually. the main reason why he even suggested to remain friends was to keep you in his life and oh, so magically win his way back into your heart. the way he saw it was that you ended things because this was how you were feeling at the moment. it doesn’t mean that you loved him any less. some circumstances are only preventing you from giving the relationship your full attention. he believed he still had a chance with you.

it didn’t take long for you to realize what was actually happening. the more you and heeseung hung out, the more you realized heeseung’s intentions. you didn’t let the subtle comments about your future with him go unnoticed. nor did you let yourself ignore the lingering touches and looks he would give you. you knew what he wanted and it scared you. you didn’t want him to believe that there was a chance just because you remained friends. so how did you choose to resolve this? you grow distant. why? you have no idea, you don’t know what to do.

you did everything in your power to stay away from heeseung. you would turn down his invites to hang out saying that you had plans. you would leave him on delivered, miss his calls, anything. you didn’t want to be this harsh, but what could you do in a situation like this? you weren’t good with confrontation and you genuinely didn’t know how to break it to heeseung that he shouldn’t get his hopes up because at the end of the day, you knew him. there’s history between you.

this leads to where you are now. you haven’t talked to heeseung in awhile so you hoped this meant that things finally quieted down between you. you roamed around the streets as you finished up running a few errands. you had some time to spare so you decided to stroll around. you had your headphones on, completely in your own world. you didn’t notice a car pull up next to you, its horn scaring the absolute shit out of you. you yank off your headphones and were about to ask the person what their problem was until you met eyes with the driver. you felt your heart drop to your stomach, “heeseung?”

“hey,” he greeted as if this was a normal occurrence, “do you need a ride?”

you scoffed, walking up to the passenger’s window. “do i need a ride? no, of course not. are you stalking me or something?”

sensing your agitation, heeseung sighs. “i’m not stalking you, y/n. i just so happened to be driving down 

here until i saw you. please just get in the car, i don’t want you walking out here alone.”

“i can handle myself, heeseung. i’m fine, don’t worry about it.” your voice softened, feeling bad for raising your voice at his innocent offer.

he hesitated before pleading, “y/n please. i haven’t heard from you in days, i want to know if you’re okay. there’s also somewhere i want to take you.”

you sighed, pondering for a moment. you hated how you couldn’t say no to him. “fine,” you said, getting into the car, “i’m going to need to get home soon though.” he nodded as he drove off.

the car ride was uncomfortably silent. not a word has been said between you and heeseung. you looked out the window, praying to yourself that heeseung wouldn’t question you in any way. occasionally you would see heeseung sneak a glance at you every time you were stopped at a red light. for some reason, you had an uneasy feeling sitting in your stomach.

what felt like an eternity, heeseung pulls up at a spot that was all too familiar for you. it was the park you and him would always go to when you were together. you shared many memories here. you even had your first kiss here. you felt all the emotions and memories rush back to you. you needed to escape. “why are we here, heeseung?” you asked, turning to him.

“to talk,” you tilted your head in confusion, “what’s been going on with you?”

“what are you talking about? nothing’s going on, i am how i usually am.” you let out a breath of frustration, not having the energy to have this conversation.

“no,” he argued, “you’re being distant, y/n. i don’t know if you remember but i’ve known you for years. you start going m.i.a when things get hard for you because you don’t know what to do about it.” he laid out, throwing you off guard.

“don’t even start, heeseung.” 

“i’m not wrong though, am i?”

“take me home.” was all you could say.

“i’m not taking you home until we talk about this.” he gestured between the two of you.

“there’s nothing to even talk about heeseung,” you cried out, “we broke up and we should’ve just left it at that.”

heeseung got quiet, you could see the wheels turning in his head, “what do you mean?” he asked cautiously.

“we can’t keep doing this.” you said, looking away from him.

“i-i don’t understand… what are we doing?” heeseung knew exactly what you were talking about. however, he couldn’t bring himself to believe what was actually happening. a part of him hoped you were talking about something else. he still had hope.

“this,” you gestured at the two of you, mimicking what he did earlier, “it’s not healthy, heeseung. we’re only going to get more hurt by staying around each other.” your voice cracked, tears threatened to spill from your eyes, “you’re going to get hurt.” you whispered.

“i don’t care if i get hurt, y/n. i love you too much to let you walk away from me. i know this is selfish, i know but i need you in my life. i can’t do this without you…” heeseung confessed, he didn’t care how pathetic he may have appeared. if it gets his point out then so be it.

you closed your eyes, “you agreed to break up, heeseung.”

“i know… but i did it because i saw how much you were struggling with your life and i didn’t want to make things any harder for you. i only agreed because i wanted to give you some time and space to have everything figured and sorted out… i wanted to stay in your life as your friend in hopes that it meant that i can eventually have you back in my arms.” he explained, having no idea how you’d react. he was scared to find out.

you were at a loss for words. you felt bad for him. you felt like it was your fault that things came to be like this. if only you’d have done something sooner. maybe there could’ve been another way…

the silence was deadly, you swear you could hear heeseung’s heart beating out of his chest. “you need to let me go, heeseung.” you said gently. you didn’t want to cause any further damage but it seemed like it was too late.

“i can’t…”

“you deserve someone that can give you the love that i couldn’t. you deserve someone who could put you first. you deserve someone that isn’t me.” you poured out.

“that’s the thing, i don’t want anyone else. i want you,” at this point, tears streamed down heeseung’s face. you try to ignore the guilt and pain creeping up in your chest. “we can work this out.”

“heeseung,” you started, you didn’t realize a tear slipped down your cheek, “i can barely figure out what i want even for myself. that alone shows that i can’t be in a relationship right now. it’s not fair for you to keep waiting around when i don’t know what’s going on myself. i don’t deserve you.”

before heeseung could say anything else, you began to gather your things. you had to be the one to do something. it was either now or never. you’re doing this for the both of you. heeseung seemed to catch onto what you were about to do. just as you were about to open the car door, heeseung grabs your wrist. “please don’t do this, y/n.”

“heeseung please, i don’t want to make this any harder,” you begged, “this is for the best. you need to move on.” you shook off his grasp and opened the door, quickly getting out. you felt your heart break piece by piece as you heard heeseung’s cries for you to come back, a sob escaped your mouth.

this was hard on you too. if circumstances were different, you would’ve taken heeseung back in a heartbeat. but you did what you had to do. for the sake of his happiness, you remove yourself from his life. this was for the best you had to remind yourself. you had to fight everything in you from running back to heeseung’s car and taking back everything you’ve said. 

please forgive me, my love. please understand. 

heeseung frantically grabbed his phone to dial your number. a few rings went by, maybe you would still answer. all hope was lost when the words “this number can no longer be reached…” reached his ears.

©berryyuni 2024. all work is written by me. do not copy, translate or repost

[indignantlemur]

I finally got around to creating proper chitin maps for Shral, Thelen, and Thoris! Detail shots below the cut, as usual!

Primarily, what I wanted to do here was illustrate (1) the actual chitin patterns for the characters so I could keep a clear reference picture on hand for future art, and (2) an example of how the average body types for Andorians tend to look. Andorians by and large tend to be narrower in builds - willowy, even - but they can be bulkier as well. They'll never be as bulky as Humans can get, however. It's important to remember that Andorians don't store anywhere near as much fat as Humans do, as well, meaning that they tend towards being very lean.

Unlike Humans, Andorians have much less variety in their natural shapes and sizes, though they do also have outliers and exceptions.

Shran, for example, is unusually short for an Andorian - a species whose average height for males and females tends to be 6'0 even according to most sources. Jaro, from Deck the Halls (and Not The Vulcans) is unusually large - he's basically the Hafþór Björnsson of Andorians. Between those two extremes, you tend to see folks built more like these three above for the male half of the population.

In terms of genitalia - Andorian males keep everything retracted. Having dangly delicate bits in a frozen hellscape is a terrible idea, and keeping everything internal most of the time means that the gonads can be kept at a consistent internal temperature.

When in a neutral state, such as depicted here, the genital slit is naturally held closed and has partial protection with single, narrow plates of free-floating, vestigial chitin on either side, sandwiched between softer lines of more flexible cartilage. These plates are very thin as well, which renders them slightly flexible compared to chitin found elsewhere on the body. At one point, these chitin plates attached to a long-since lost plate section in the lower abdomen. As it is, Andorian biologists estimate that in a few hundred years or so the free-floating plates may no longer develop at all in the majority of Andorians.

Thelen has the bulkiest build of the three, heavily muscled and heavily armoured - the jaguar build, over leopard or cheetah. His chitin patterns are more extensive than the other two's, and they are more organic in nature, following the lines of muscle fibres to allow for maximum movement while still maintaining a high level of protection. Many lines of chitin can collapse and resettle into a neutral state very like an accordion as the muscles beneath them flex and relax, but quite a few are more rigid and inflexible.

Sannev have so much chitin that it does limit the range of motion that they have in some limbs, and the extra weight makes them a bit slower as well. Additionally, all that weight from their chitin means that Sannev Clan members burn far more energy in a fight (and on a daily basis) than most other Andorians. This fact, when combined with the rapid metabolism Andorians evolved with, means that the Sannev were forced to adopt a strategy of short, brutal combat using overwhelming force to compensate. When a Sannev man - or woman, for that matter - goes on the warpath, the conflict is resolved in very short order.

Thoris has a moderate build, neither built for speed nor for brute force but landing somewhere comfortable between the two. I mentally map Thoris' build to be more like a leopard than a cheetah or jaguar. His chitin is much less extensive, and unlike the Sannev pattern, the Kor pattern is primarily made up of layered plates of chitin which can compress and fold due to being a little thinner and having a degree of flexibility to them. His spine is heavily armoured, as are his ribs, but the plating throughout his legs, arms, and even torso is much less prominent or widespread than Thelen's.

Some would say that this means Thoris occupies a sweet spot between being light and mobile and being well-protected. Thoris would call those people fools. Being in the middle of the road for speed and natural defenses meant he had to work twice as hard to attain any level of physical prowess compared to his peers (many of whom had natural advantages over him) and this is particularly true where duels were concerned. The Kor Clan are traditionalists, and their duelling style favours minimal movements, the development of uncanny reflexes, and maximize energy conservation over brute force or speed. A Kor Clan member will dodge by a fraction of an inch, a mere turn of the head, a slight shift of the hips. No energy is wasted, no movements are more extravagant than they absolutely need to be - and no strike is anything less than exactly as strong and as fast as it must be to get the job done. A competent Kor duellist is one of the hardest opponents in a ushaan duel, simply because they can outlast every other opponent.

Shral is one the narrower end of Andorian builds, more like a cheetah than a leopard or jaguar. He's built for speed rather than raw strength, and so he lacks the bulk that makes Thelen such a close quarters powerhouse and the more extensive chitin patterns that Thelen and Thoris have for overall protection. The upside of his build is that Shral is not limited in his range of motion or otherwise weighed down by the extra chitin - and the mirroring downside is that he's much more vulnerable as a result. He's not quite a glass canon, in that he can take a hit and keep going, but he'll take much more damage than someone like Thelen would.

What Shral does have is meant to reinforce key areas and protect the spine, and little else besides - a common trait among the Hrisvalar Clan, and one they account for with their duelling strategies. Somewhat ironically, Hrisvalar and Sannev go about solving the problems posed by their inherent chitin patterns and the body-types that most often crop up in their lineages by adopting the same strategies; quick and brutal. While the Sannev go about this using the brute force method to overwhelm their enemies, the Hrisvalar prefer a more delicate touch. They teach their members to strike quickly, to do so with ruthless efficiency, and to remain extremely mobile in combat. A Sannev will break every bone in your body, and a Kor will defeat you with technical excellence and cold efficiency, but a Hrisvalar will hamstring you and cut your throat before you even know what's happening.

Not every member of the three Clans mentioned will be built as Thelen, Thoris, and Shral are - they are just examples of what's typical. Exceptions certainly occur in every Clan.

@the-lady-general  @starrynightgardens  @emilie786  @horta-in-charge  @emochook  @velvet-luvie  @creature-of-the-stars @unknownfacelessfanfictions @auroramagpie

[writingpaperghost]

Without You (Chapter 24)

Chapter 24: Daiji's Resolve, The Heart and Kagerou!

Hiromi is forced to make a decision. Unfortunately, Daiji and Kagerou do not like that the choice has to be made at all.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43371954/chapters/134002981

“You’re going to have to make your decision, now, not later.” Akemi said, leveling Hiromi with a stern look. “Either you stop using the Demons Driver, or you die.”

Hiromi frowned, he’d been hoping to delay a while longer, hoping that maybe he could hold off until Karizaki had fixed whatever was wrong with the Anomalocaris Vistamp, but clearly that wasn’t going to happen. Not if the Deadmans made a move any time soon. Akemi likely wouldn’t allow him to keep using the Demons Driver – she’d put her foot down on the matter, as a doctor. But without being a Rider, Hiromi had no place at Fenix, anymore. It wasn’t like his body could really take much exertion, now.

He sighed, “I guess I have no choice, then.”

“I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do to fix it.”

“It isn’t your fault.” He stood, “Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

She studied him, for a moment, “You’re leaving Fenix then.”

“Yes,” With that, he left. He’d have to return the Demons Driver to Karizaki, foremostly. Then he’d have to break the news to Daiji, Tamaki, and Makoto. He wasn’t too worried about how Makoto would take it – outwardly, at least, he expected little real reaction. But Daiji and Tamaki were a different story. Hiromi was worried about them.

The walk to Karizaki’s lab was… painfully short, though thankfully, the only ones there were Karizaki and Makoto. They’d be the easiest to break the news too. Makoto is perched in a chair, watching as Karizaki worked on the Anomalocaris Vistamp. He took his eyes off Karizaki only to glance over at Hiromi, when Hiromi entered.

Karizaki was far less vigilant of his company than Makoto was him, as when he heard Hiromi enter, he looked over and grinned, “What brings you here, Captain Kadota?”

Hiromi took a deep breath, then answered, “I’m here to return the Demons Driver and the Vistamps.” He produced said items, setting them on the table that Karizaki was working on.

Both Makoto and Karizaki regarded him with curiosity and surprise, but it was Makoto who spoke, “Why are you doing that?”

“If I keep using the Demons Driver, it will kill me. So I have no choice but to resign.” At his words, Makoto grimaced, then shot a glare at Karizaki, before shaking his head.

Karizaki scowled, “And this is why I didn’t want anyone using it…”

Carefully, Makoto said, “It was your father’s invention, yes? You think there’s some sort of bug in it or something?”

”Or something,” Karizaki hissed.

A curious expression crossed Makoto’s face, for just a moment, but it’s too brief for Hiromi to identify it. Makoto looks back over at Hiromi, “Tamaki and Captain Akaishi won’t take you leaving well.”

“I am aware,” Hiromi nodded, “I’d been hoping to delay it a little longer but…”

Makoto shook his head, “The only thing that would hurt them worse than you leaving is you dying. Good luck with telling them, though.”

Hiromi suspected he was going to need that luck, neither Tamaki nor Daiji would likely be willing to let go so easy – especially Daiji. Daiji had always stuck close to him, ever since they met. Hiromi only hoped Daiji would keep an eye on Tamaki in his place.

He leaves Karizaki’s lab, determined to track down either Tamaki or Daiji. Of the two, he finds Tamaki first, returning from a late lunch. He smiles when he sees Hiromi, clearly happy to see him. Hiromi just wished he had some kind of good news to share with him, or at least not the news that he was about to. But it had to be done.

“Captain Kadota!” Tamaki greeted, smiling. Hiromi would feel bad that the smile wouldn’t last very long.

“Tamaki,” Hiromi gave him a smile in return, “Just who I was looking for.”

Cocking his head to the side, Tamaki asked, “Really?”

In response, Hiromi nodded, “Yes, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

“What is it?” Tamaki looked a little concerned, rightfully so. He could likely tell, based on those words, that Hiromi had come to find him, and the tone that he’d spoken to him in, that something was up. His eyes narrowed and his ears perked, tail twitching ever so slightly.

Regretfully, Hiromi answered, “From here on, I will no longer be aiding you and Makoto as Demons. As a matter of fact, I will be resigning from Fenix.”

Tamaki’s eyes widened, a horrified expression coming across his face. “What? No! Why?” Any attempt to hide what he was feeling had gone out the window.

No answer would make Tamaki feel any better about what was happening, but he deserved the truth. Carefully, watching Tamaki’s every reaction, Hiromi explained what the Demons Driver had been doing to him, and why he could no longer stay at Fenix. Tamaki’s horrified expression didn’t go away, but became combined with one that was upset.

Still, Tamaki stubbornly tried to hide those feelings, “That’s… that’s… do you really have to leave Fenix, though?” He wasn’t doing a very good job.

“Unfortunately, I’m in no condition to continue my work here, even as other than a Rider. So yes, I really do have to leave.” Hiromi answered, though he felt terrible having to tell Tamaki such things, even if it was the truth.

Tamaki’s ears flattened, “But… you’re…” Tamaki tried desperately to protest, but soon his gaze cast downwards, at his feet. He must have been unable to find any response that he felt might have been strong enough.

Perhaps the worst part of this entire thing, so far, was having to see Tamaki like this. Hiromi couldn’t help but be reminded of the day he first met Tamaki, having walked past him in a hall and pausing, for just a moment, not because of his fur or tail, but because Hiromi could tell something was troubling him.

A young cadet had walked by, eyes downcast, posture tense. He looked terribly upset, but also trying his damnedest to hide it. And there was something in the way he walked, a sort of resigned attitude that emanated from him. Hiromi had considered simply letting him walk by, but decided better of it.

“Is everything alright?” He called, causing the cadet to stop. He had a tail, Hiromi realized, and that was truly odd.

Turning, Tamaki looked up, meeting his eyes with confusion. “It’s… fine.” He said, but Hiromi doubted the honesty of his words. He looked a little too confused, a little too resigned, and a little too upset.

Hiromi could have left it alone, but now that he was talking to Tamaki, he wanted to even less than before. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Tamaki scowled.

“It does,”

He shook his head, “I’m quitting, so it’s not going to be anyone else’s problem.”

“Why?” It wasn’t unusual for cadets to quit. Fenix’s training wasn’t always easy, and often cadets come in not realizing that. Others simply aren’t cut out for it. But Hiromi suspected that wasn’t the case here, given Tamaki’s tail and the fur now visible on his face.

Tamaki hesitated, not entirely willing to answer. After a moment, he admitted, “I’m tired of being the object of ridicule. I’ve tried to ignore it, but it doesn’t do any good, and… I can’t deal with it anymore. So, I’ll just leave, help out with my family’s business.”

Upon hearing Tamaki’s reasoning, though it was what Hiromi had expected it to be, he frowned. “Fenix doesn’t tolerate any kind of harassment among it’s ranks,” He said, “that includes petty bullying.”

Before he can stop himself, Tamaki scoffed, before taking another look at Hiromi. Then he shook his head, “No point in wasting my breath, reporting people never did any good in school, I doubt that’s changed.”

“Give it a try,” Hiromi didn’t want Tamaki to walk away from Fenix so easily, especially if he was otherwise doing well. And perhaps he couldn’t help but see a little of himself in Tamaki, and thus he desired to encourage him all he could.

Only shrugged, Tamaki turned to walk away. “Maybe,” He said, quiet.

Hiromi hoped that this wouldn’t be the last he saw of the cadet with a tail.

Sure enough, a few days later, Tamaki was still there – Hiromi had spied in on a group of cadets training and easily was able to pick Tamaki out, with the tail and the fur. He seemed to be doing well, though when they stopped for a break, all the other cadets gave him a lot of space. Still there, but he was no more liked than he was before.

It was a start, at least, and some part of Hiromi hoped that he’d get to work with Tamaki someday, to see just what kind of person he was. He was surprised, though, when Tamaki had approached him, a day or so later, looking somewhat hesitant. But he put on a brave face.

“Thank you,” He said, “I… I don’t know if you remember me, but… I listened to what you said. It’s… better now.”

Unable to help himself, Hiromi smiled, small but reassuring, “I remember. I’m glad to hear that,” He wouldn’t mention that he’d taken a peek while Tamaki and the other cadets were training. Better not make Tamaki too uncomfortable. “What’s your name?”

Looking a little surprised, Tamaki quickly answered, “Tamaki Igarashi,”

In this moment, Tamaki reminded Hiromi far too much of when they first met, and that only made Hiromi feel worse. He knew that his kindness to Tamaki had acted as a turning point in both Tamaki’s life and in his time at Fenix, and to have him leave was hard for Tamaki. Tamaki still looked up to him and didn’t want to let go. Hiromi didn’t want to make him, but it was out of his hands now. It was time for Tamaki to learn to exist at a Fenix that lacked Hiromi, whether either of them liked it or not.

“Take care of yourself, Tamaki,” Hiromi said, “And in my absence, I hope you’ll be willing to look towards Daiji for assistance.”

Tamaki didn’t look at him, he didn’t need to for Hiromi to be able to see he was still upset. “I should… go,” he said, and then hurried off. Hiromi could only hope he’d be okay.

With Tamaki out of the way, that left Daiji. Hiromi didn’t look forward to breaking the news to Daiji, either, but hoped that he’d take a little better than Tamaki – or at least, no worse. He has a pretty good idea as to where Daiji likely was, making his way towards the training room he always used. While there was no sign of Daiji in there, a look in the nearest locker room finds Daiji in the midst of redressing himself.

“Daiji,” He called, causing Daiji to pause, his jacket lingering unzipped.

“Hiromi,” Daiji seemed happy to see him – as happy as Daiji generally allowed himself to look. Hiromi only felt worse about the news he’d have to deliver. Daiji’s happy expression turned to obvious concern. “You still look tired, are you sure you’re still not coming down with a cold or something? Maybe you should go see Akemi, you know she’d chew you out if you overworked yourself to the point of making yourself sick.”

Shaking his head, Hiromi responded, “I’ve already gone to see Akemi, that’s why I’m here, actually.”

Daiji frowned, “Oh, then what is it? Are you sick? Have you hurt yourself?” His gaze raked Hiromi over and over, taking in every inch.

“In… a way.” Hiromi frowned, “I’ll be resigning, I’m afraid.”

“What?” Daiji asked, sharply, “What do you mean you’re resigning?” His tone had turned horribly cold, a surprise to Hiromi. He’d never heard Daiji speak with such a tone, let alone to him.

Surprised, Hiromi took a step back, “I don’t have a choice, Daiji. I can’t use the Demons Driver anymore, if I did, I’d die. Without that, there’s no reason for me to stay at Fenix.”

“What about me? Hell, what about reckless fucking Tamaki?” His cold voice soon grew angry, “Do we mean nothing to you?”

“Daiji,” Still surprised, Hiromi sucked in a careful breath. He’d never seen Daiji like this, so… angry and desperate. He could understand it, but it was a surprise and he wasn’t entirely sure how to proceed. “I can’t fight anymore, I’d only be in the way and get hurt. My body is in a terrible state from my use of the Demons Driver.”

Face falling, Daiji looked away, “So that’s it? You’ll just be… gone?” And now Daiji sounded… scared. The only time Hiromi had seen him even close to this was a brief flash, once, when he’d learned he’d be meeting with his father. Nothing like this.

Hiromi looked away, surprised that he couldn’t meet Daiji’s eyes. It hurt just a little too much, more than talking with Tamaki had. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to leave either, but…”

“You really can’t stay,” Daiji finished, quiet. “Hiromi…”

“I can try to stay in touch,” He offered. It was all he could do, and he really didn’t want to drop the people he’s met at Fenix from his life entirely. “Though I hope that you can support Tamaki in my absence-“

Before he can finish his sentence, Daiji blurted, “Come with me when you leave.”

“W-what?”

Daiji took a step closer to Hiromi, a strange expression in his eyes – his red eyes, Hiromi realize. The tips of his hair seem to curl, his lips curling into a strange, off putting and familiar, smile. He raised a hand up towards his face, flicking his thumb and his finger together. His head tilted to the side, “Come join me,” He said, more slowly, “We’ll treat you better than Fenix ever has.”

“We?” Hiromi took another step back. Something was wrong with Daiji. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, Hiromi… think about it. Fenix’s mole. It’s not you, Karizaki would sooner die than give the Deadmans his technology, it’s not any of the commanders, they’re too uptight, and father is rarely ever here.” Daiji made up the step he took, and another, now standing too close to Hiromi for comfort, in this situation. He peered into Hiromi’s eyes.

His words hammered in Hiromi’s head, and the implication they carried. “You… Daiji…” Daiji really couldn’t be saying what he seemed to be. Daiji couldn’t be the one.

“You want to know who the mole is, Hiromi?” Daiji took a step back, then looked away, bangs covering his eyes, “…It’s me.”

It couldn’t be true. But Daiji wasn’t the kind to joke like that. “No… Daiji… Why?” He was the director’s son, after all. He was the last person who’d be suspected of being the mole. In a way, that also made him the perfect choice.

Still not looking at him, Daiji answered, “I have no choice.”

“But your father-“

“Is sort of the problem,” Daiji snapped, briefly looking towards Hiromi, before looking away once more, “But you didn’t hear that from me. You didn’t hear that at all.”

Just what was Daiji saying? What was going on with the director and what did that have to do with Daiji being the mole. Hiromi would have to ponder on it later, though.

He frowned, “You… want me to join you? The Deadmans?”

“You’d be safe there, we’d value you more than Fenix.”

“I can’t fight anymore, Daiji,” Hiromi shook his head, “Even if you weren’t asking me to go against everything I believe in, I’d be useless to them.”

Daiji sighed, “For every weirdly dedicated cultist, there’s a far more relaxed civilian who just needs somewhere they’re accepted. You don’t have to have anything to do with Lord Giff.”

Again, Hiromi shook his head, “I’m not joining the Deadmans, Daiji. I can’t believe you’d even suggest that.” Daiji should know well how Hiromi felt about such matters. How it went against all the things that he held close to his chest. Though, right now, those things, those beliefs, felt so terribly flimsy. But he won’t admit that to Daiji.

“Sorry,” He apologized, “Then… what will you do now?”

Knowing, now, that Daiji was the mole, Hiromi wondered if he should tell Daiji. It was a terrible thing to have to wonder, when mere moments before he’d trusted Daiji implicitly, had seen him as a close friend, on the level of Tatsuhiko and Chigusa, despite having known Daiji for less time. But now he had to question, had to wonder if Daiji would use this information against him, or pass it on to someone who would. It pained him as much as it worried him.

But Hiromi also wanted desperately to believe that, at least to some degree, Daiji was still his friend. “Back home,” He answered, “to my mother. I don’t know how long I have, so I want to spend as much of it with her as I can.”

Daiji frowned, but said, “I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you.”

“I’m sure she will, I keep telling her I’m going to visit.”

Looking away once more, Daiji sighed, “I think we should both get going.”

“I should report that you’re the mole.”

“It won’t matter. You think they didn’t track down that every time something was stolen from Karizaki’s lab, it was my ID that got access? Father won’t let it get out, and those who figure it out…” He shook his head, “Just keep it to yourself and resign. Otherwise your mother might get a letter telling her that you went MIA or died.”

Pushing past Hiromi, Daiji left.

For some reason, Hiromi hurt, worse than Tamaki’s sad expression. Worse than any injury he’d gotten or the aches that had begun in his bones. He’d been betrayed, in a way, his friend was the mole and there was nothing to be done about it. And somehow, the director had something to do with it.

If the Deadmans’ influence ran that deep in Fenix, then just what was Fenix even fighting for? Was all that Fenix stood for a lie, deluding those with dreams of helping others, like himself and Tamaki, into being their pawns? It obviously didn’t stop with Daiji, if his father was also involved, then… it was likely, in some way, much of what Fenix had done was in fact to help the Deadmans.

All those beliefs, held closely to Hiromi’s heart, that he thought Fenix stood for… they were a lie.

What was he supposed to do about that?

---

One of the mirrors in a Fenix bathroom shattered against Daiji’s fist. In the falling shards, the scowling expression of Kagerou reflected.

“Father was the one who made Karizaki give Hiromi that Driver – we knew there was something wrong with it!” Daiji growled, bringing his fist back to himself. There were a few cuts from the broken mirror, but Daiji didn’t care. He’d had worse. “He’s punishing us for loving Hiromi, taking him away or risking his death!”

From the shards on the floor and the other mirrors to the side of Daiji, Kagerou spoke, “If only our dearest father would hurry up and fucking die. That’d be wonderful.”

Bringing his hands to clutch the edge of the sink, Daiji shook his head, “What do we do? Hiromi’s leaving, this place will be miserable. He won’t join us – he probably hates us now!”

“We could make him join us.” Kagerou suggested, “Have him all to ourselves…”

“No!” Daiji hissed, “We’re not kidnapping Hiromi.”

Kagerou pouted in response, “Fine, then how about this. Let’s make sure our dear father gets the message that we don’t like him messing with what’s ours.” He had a devious expression on his face. Normally, Daiji wouldn’t trust it, but right now…

“You have a plan,”

“That I do. I think it’s time that Fenix gets to see it’s mole – and learn that he’s not just anyone.”

Daiji was beginning to understand what Kagerou’s plan was, “You want… to reveal me as not just the mole, but as Evil?”

With a large grin, Kagerou laughed, “It’ll be great!”

As appealing as it sounded to throw his position at Fenix away, making it so his father couldn’t force him to be the mole, Daiji wasn’t entirely convinced. “Father would be… very, very, upset.”

“Well fuck him.”

“We can’t just go around provoking him,” They both knew damn well what would happen if they did, even just the thought of the punishment made Daiji shudder. Upsetting their father wasn’t something to be done lightly. The question was: was what he caused to happen to Hiromi worth it?

And Daiji couldn’t deny, the idea sounded tempting. A giant “fuck you” to his father. It might be playing his hand too early but… a Fenix without Hiromi wasn’t anywhere Daiji wanted to be. Maybe it was time he followed Kagerou’s lead, took a page out of Ikki’s book, and played a rebellious child.

Kagerou’s smile hadn’t faded, “So, what do you think?”

“I think… for what he did to Hiromi…” Daiji closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them and answered with a smile, “Let’s make Hiromi’s last day at Fenix one to remember.”

“Then let’s head back and make arrangements, we don’t have time to spare.”

Daiji nodded, ignoring the broken glass on and in the sink, and on the floor. Someone would clean it up, eventually, but he didn’t have time to worry about that. Kagerou was right, if they were going to pull this off, they had to act quickly. Sakura would probably be willing to help them, especially for Hiromi.

It didn’t matter how Hiromi felt about Daiji, now, what mattered was that their father had caused this to happen to Hiromi. He wanted Hiromi dead or otherwise gone, away from Daiji, and though he was getting it, Daiji and Kagerou weren’t about to let him get it scot-free. Take away their Hiromi, and he was losing his mole.

Kagerou was right, it would be great, and Daiji was almost excited to see the looks on everyone’s faces when they realized that the director’s son, that Daiji Akaishi, was really Evil. Perhaps the faces of crushing betrayal – although Daiji suspects that Makoto, if not already on to him, at least is willing to suspect him. But Karizaki and Tamaki…

Well, Daiji might feel a bit bad about Tamaki. He was losing Hiromi, and while he wasn’t very close with Daiji, he’d be losing Daiji too. Both of his captains. That would probably be a blow to morale. Maybe that would serve them well, at least in pushing Makoto and Tamaki further. After all, when Giff awoke, they wouldn’t be able to rely on Fenix.

Fenix would show its true colors, and they’d have to be able to survive on their own – or at least with only each other for support. Daiji couldn’t say for sure if they’d have any help from him and his siblings, or even Hana and Hikaru.

Truthfully, even he and his siblings knew little about just what would happen when Giff awoke. They just knew it probably wouldn’t be good, though they’d likely be safe from it. They were Children of Giff, after all, it was his DNA that made them have demon traits as they did. Ikki’s horns, tail, and feathers. Sakura’s scales. Daiji’s own strong hearing. In all likelihood, it was probably Giff’s DNA that caused Makoto, Tamaki, and Hana to have such traits as well. And further, in Sakura’s efforts to save Hikaru’s life, Daiji knows the scientists who had worked on him had injected him with Giff’s DNA.

Daiji could only hope that whatever future awaited, it would be able to be stopped, or at least lessened. But there was no knowing, so they could only prepare for the worst. Hope that Makoto, Tamaki, and Hana would be able to defeat Giff. Daiji didn’t like placing so much on hope, but right now, there wasn’t much choice.

But that was a worry for later, right now, it was time to teach their father a lesson. Who knows, maybe rebellion would suit Daiji better than he thought – though there’s some part of him that lingers on the knowledge that his actions will have serious consequences. They would be actions that their father wouldn’t take lightly in the slightest. But they feel far too correct for Daiji not to do them.

Their father took Hiromi away from them, and now he was going to pay, one way or another.

“After this, we’ll have to tell Hiromi our feelings,” Kagerou said as they walked.

“If he’ll even talk to us,” Daiji muttered, well aware that between being the mole and inviting him to join them, they’d upset Hiromi.

But Kagerou didn’t seem to care much about those details, “It’s worth a shot.”

Shaking his head, Daiji said, “Let’s just focus on the task at hand.”

“Telling our father to fuck himself.”