#oh I need to assess risks before I decide what to do about them???

[a-continuous-cutting-motion]

If you work in information security you too can study the world’s most boring, obvious diagrams

[gojos-thot-patrol]

I've been promising this one for awhile.

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Starring: Mafia Boss!Sukuna

My contribution to @chrollohearttags Tales from the Underbelly collab! In which Gojo accidentally kidnaps the wrong girl, and our "heroes" have to decide what to do with her.

Content includes: slow burn smut, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, blood kink if ya squint, and slight indulgence of the writers breeding kink.

Trigger warnings include: Kidnapping, gun violence, gore, a dog attack, an attempt at assault and the use of the word "ravenette" once as a dare. Reader discretion is advised.

Your mom had warned you about meeting strange men online. You had assumed at the time it was just her weird boomer-esque tendencies, a fear born before the time of tinder. But as you breathed in your own breath from inside this itchy burlap sack, sitting tied up in this not-at-all comfortable chair, you started to think maaaybe she was on to something. 

It wasn’t your fault though, truly it wasn’t. This guy was hot. Like, unbelievably hot. So hot it was stupid. So hot he belonged on the cover of french magazines or in summer blockbuster movies that sell tickets not for the plot- but for the eye candy. Who wouldn’t risk life and limb to get a piece of that? You wondered if Satoru Gojo was his real name, just in case you needed to make a police report. You wondered if you’d get that far.

Okay, Y/n, no no, don’t think like that. That will get you killed. Calm down and assess the situation. What did you last remember? Your date. You met him at a bar, and was genuinely shocked when he matched his profile picture. You made idle chit chat, and your drink came. Did you order that drink? You couldn’t remember now. You did remember it tasting salty for a screwdriver though…

Shit, that guy definitely drugged you. Why?! It made no sense, you probably would have fucked him if he had just asked nicely! Hell, even if he had asked rudely, there was no need for this! You silenced your thoughts as you heard movement. A door opened and the sound of boots on concrete echoed through a far too big to be practical room. And then, a familiar voice.

“No dude, I got her!” That was definitely Gojo, the fuck ass. “It was so easy too.” He was laughing, because of course he was.

“Yea, that’s the problem. Excuse me for being suspicious, but this feels way too easy considering how long we’ve been chasing this woman,” another, much smoother voice said. Oh god, what the fuck had you gotten yourself into now? Why the fuck did weird shit always have to happen to you? It was like you were the main character in some fucked up wattpad, or Tumblr, fanfiction.

“Nah dude, it’s the real deal. Toji doesn’t keep his girl as wrapped up as we’ve been led to believe.” Gojo’s far-too-joyful-for-your-taste voice came again. It was much closer this time. Your body tensed as you realized the two of them were right next to you. “I matched with her on fucking tinder dude! All according to plan!”

“We’ll see about that.” Smoothie voice said. As he did, the bag was ripped off your head, and quite honestly you were too shocked to scream. You took the situation in front of you in with wide panicked eyes. There was your shitty date, looking far too proud of himself considering all he did was kidnap a helpless girl. And another man, crouched in front of your metal chair, taking in your features. Was this just a gang of people that was so attractive it was unfair? He ran a hand though his long dark hair, and knitted his perfectly sculpted eyebrows together as he looked at you. Then shook his head and stood up.

“You really did it now, idiot, that’s the wrong girl!” The ravenette snapped at your former tinder match. Satoru just blinked in disbelief.

“What?” He asked, and Oh boy, your brain started working again! Just in time for you to start screaming at the top of your lungs as the truly horrifying nature of your situation settled into your bones. This startled the men, causing them both to scream, and the dark haired one to even stumble away from you. 

“That was such a late reaction!!” Gojo yelled at you as he finally found words again.

“FUCK YOU SATORU GOJO, WHEN YOU KILL ME, I SWEAR I’M GOING TO HAUNT YOUR ASS!” You screamed at him, deciding if you were gonna die here you might as well fling a few threats around. 

“You used your real name for the honeytrap?!” The unnamed man hissed, punching Gojo in the shoulder.

“Hey!” Gojo yelped, “I thought it was her! I didn’t think it was gonna matter! What are we going to do Suguru?!” Oh, so Suguru was his name. Good to know.

“Don’t say my name!” Suguru snapped. Too late, you knew it already. “The boss is not going to be happy, you know this, right?”

“Well I mean, I-” Gojo started, before you cut in.

“Can I at least know why you guys are gonna kill me before it happens?” You asked. You wanted to know what to avoid for your next life. Gojo had the audacity to scoff at you.

“Wow, I was literally talking and you interrupted me,” He scoffed, “Rude much?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll try to be more considerate of the man who drugged and kidnapped me next time I open my mouth! As if that wasn’t rude as hell!” You hissed.

“Get married later, we have other problems!” Suguru demanded, snapping in front of Satoru to get his attention. “The boss is going to be here any minute, and we have the wrong girl!”

“Why don’t we just kill her?” Gojo asked. And look at that, you were screaming again. They both screamed with you, Suguru screaming over you and adding a “CAN WE PLEASE ALL STOP SCREAMING?!” at the end. 

And you did, because technically he had done nothing to wrong you, and you had no beef with him. Satoru shut up when you did. “Thank you!” He snapped, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples to try and fight off the migraine that was forming. “No, Gojo, we can’t just kill her! She’s an innocent, it goes against the code. You and I both know The Boss would have you castrated if you break the code.” Suguru reminded the man next to him. Oh, that was good news.

“So, I’m not gonna die?” You asked.

“You’re not gonna die.” “Nothing is off the table yet.” The men spoke in unison, glaring at each other as they finished their sentences.

“Sooooooo, you’re gonna let me go?!” You asked, beaming with a forced excitement, hoping it would rub off on them and they’d untie you then and there.

“It’s not that easy.” Suguru sighed, “If we let you go now, you’d definitely go to the cops, and you know at least his full name.” He said, glaring at Satoru once again.

“What if I promise not to go to the cops?” You asked.

“You and I both know that won’t work.” He looked almost sympathetic to your plight.

“What if I pinky swear not to go?” You asked. His sympathy vanished.

“In another life, you two are perfect for each other.” He scoffed to Gojo. Mere seconds after he said that, the door behind you opened again. Both men turned their full attention to the footsteps approaching, both looking terrified- though Gojo more than Suguru. You tried to look behind you, but alas, you were not an owl and could not turn your head 360 degrees around. 

“What did you two idiots fuck up now?” A low, gravely voice asked behind you. 

“What?!” Gojo tried to look offended, “Boss, I’m hurt! Why would you assume we fucked up?” he pouted. Suguru just dropped his head into his hands.

“Because it’s you Satoru, and when I came in here, you both looked at me like I was the cops and you had a corpse.” The voice scoffed, “And that never bodes well. Is that the girl?”

“So, you see, about that-” Suguru started, only to be cut off by a new man shoving his face in yours. The club of people that won the genetic lottery grew, and you hated to admit he was the sexiest member yet. Sharp features made more pronounced by a faceful of tattoos that absolutely shouldn't have been as attractive as they were. Hard eyes seemed to glow an unnatural red in the dim light of this garage(?) and his fluffy pink hair seemed both horrifically misplaced on his head, and perfectly matched all at the same time. Suddenly, you weren’t worried about your future. You were wondering what choices you had to make to sit on that perfectly sculpted face.

WAIT FOCUS Y/N, YOU’VE BEEN KIDNAPPED! You flinched away from him, tensing up because well…that’s what people do in these situations, right? You saw a tic form in his perfect jaw, and he stood up. You got a good look at what he was wearing. Fitted slacks with a dress shirt, a well tailored vest on top making him ooze with expense. The others were dressed nice too, but he somehow managed to outshine them all. Maybe its because his sleeves were rolled up, showing off his tattooed wrists and gorgeous forearms. God truly did have favorites.

“You.” He demanded more than asked, turning to Gojo and pointing at him.

“Yes Sukuna?” Gojo asked, and Suguru couldn’t hold back the groan that ripped from his throat.

“Stop using names you fucking idiot.” Suguru hissed. So his name was Sukuna.

“Gojo come here.” Sukuna said again, instantly shutting up both men. Gojos eyes grew even wider with fear.

“I, um…I’d rather not boss, I-...You’re gonna hurt me.” Gojo gulped.

“I’m not gonna hurt you.” Sukuna assured him, and for a second he sounded so sincere and comforting, even you believed him. 

“D-...Do you promise?” Gojo asked, trepidation still flooding his voice.

“I promise, I’m not going to hurt you.” Sukuna said again. Slowly, like a wild animal learning to trust, Satrou crept over to his boss. It was then you noticed Sukuna’s rings. You noticed them, because the moment Satoru was in bitch slapping range, he got bitch slapped with the ring hand, so hard that if Suguru hadn’t been there to catch him, he would have hit the floor. 

“You said you weren’t gonna hurt me!” Gojo yelped. Suguru shook his head, unable to believe his friend fell for that.

“I lied!” The pink haired man snapped, “How’s it feel to be lied to Satoru?! Do you like it?! I know I sure fucking don’t.” He hissed as he slapped him again, “You said you had Toji’s wife! That’s not Toji’s fucking wife you imbecile!”

“Ha, take that asshat, that’s what you get!” You laughed, taking maybe a little bit too much joy in Satoru’s pain. And suddenly, all three men were staring at you. You shrunk a bit at the realization. “My bad, I shouldn’t have spoke,” You muttered, “I’ll let y'all get back to it.”

Sukuna took a long deep breath to try and reregulate himself before turning back to you. “Hi.” He said, giving a smile that you think was meant to be welcoming, but his naturally sharp canines just made it menacing. “Who are you?” He asked.

“I don’t know if it’s safe to tell you my name…” You muttered softly.

“You’re already tied up under my house babe, little late to be shy now.” He pointed out. Fair enough.

“Y/n Y/l/n.” You said. He nodded and gave a small wave. 

"Hi Y/n. So what all do you kn-"

"Wait, what's your name?" You asked, cutting off a clearly powerful man. “Is Sukuna like, a title, or?” He stopped mid sentence and blinked at you, bringing his hands together in a death grip so he didn’t punch the disrespect out of your mouth. 

“Sorry, you threw me off. I’m not used to being interrupted.” He said through gritted teeth.

“That’s a common problem for her!” Gojo accused from Suguru’s arms, pointing for emphasis. This quickly got him dropped. Sukuna glared at him.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop talking.” He threatened Gojo before turning back to you. “My name’s not important right now. What is important is finding out just how much you know. So start talking doll.” He said, going into his back pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes. 

“So, before I answer, am I more likely or less likely to go home based on how much I know?” You asked, “Cause I’d like to go home in one piece.” The pink haired man laughed at your words as he lit his smoke. Well, laughed is a strong word. More like he aggressively blew air out of his nose, like when you see a funny meme. 

“That’s cute Dollface,” He muttered, blowing the smoke out of his lungs, “Answer my question.”

“You answer mine first.”

“No, I won’t.” 

“Come on dude, I only want you to answer one question-”

“You only want one question answered?” It did suck to be interrupted, “Fine, I’m Sukuna. Now what do you know about us?” You were confused at first, until you realized he was answering one question you asked. Just not the question you wanted answered. Well shit.

“I know his name is Satoru Gojo, his is Suguru, you’re Sukuna, and you guys are looking for some guy named Toji’s wife. Oh, and Gojo takes dick pics with a ring light.” Sukuna closed his eyes and scrunched his eyebrows at that last part, riding out the cringe wave.

“Dude, you don’t really do that, do you?” Suguru whispered to the man next to him.

“Good lighting makes the picture Suguru.” Gojo whispered back. 

“We didn’t need to know that.” Sukuna said, opening his eyes again.

“You asked what I knew.” You said, shrugging as best as you could considering you were tied up. 

“What are we going to do Boss?” Suguru asked, getting the team back on track. Sukuna took a long drag off his cigarette, trying to find an answer to that question. You were innocent, nowhere near the syndicates radar. You were a victim of them, it wasn’t fair to kill you for the crime of matching with a loser on tinder. It also went against what they stood for. At the same time though, they couldn’t just let you leave. You knew all of their names, for Satoru you knew his full name. Not only that, there was the risk of you letting it slip they were looking for Toji’s wife. Though, Toji probably knew that, all things considered. She did have a hit called out on Nanami after all, he’d be stupid not to assume they were looking for her. Fuck.

“Bring her upstairs.” Sukuna finally said, rubbing his temple with his free hand. He wondered why he kept Gojo on the payroll. “She’s our guest until further notice.” Suguru and Satoru shared a knowing glance before going and untying you.

“So you’re letting me go?!” You asked hopefully.

“Not quite,” Sukuna informed you, “Until we can find a more…permanent situation for you, you’re now the property of The Syndicate. Make yourself at home Doll.” He said as he put his cigarette back in his mouth.

“Hold on, what?!” You asked, struggling against Gojo and Suguru as they tried to drag you upstairs, “Wait, property?! Wait, hold on!” You yelped. Suguru rolled his eyes, deciding it was easier to just throw you over his shoulder at this point. “Hey! Put me down!”

“I don’t understand why you’re bitching, I thought you didn’t want to die?” He asked. And suddenly, this was all put into perspective for you. You either play nice, or you take a prolonged dirt nap. Shit. Not great options. You decided death wasn’t what you wanted, they did imply this was only temporary after all. You sighed and accepted your fate, going limp on Suguru’s shoulder. 

The sudden bright lights of the house blinded you after so long in the dim basement. You were happy when Suguru finally put you down, less so when you heard a giant dog barking, and claws scraping on hardwood. You turned around in enough time to see an absolutely massive Rottweiler running at you full speed, teeth bared. You yelped, going to try and hide behind Suguru or hell even Gojo, only to find they had already backed way the hell up; giving the beast room to turn you into dog food. You closed your eyes and tensed your body as you braced for impact.

The impact never came. When you opened your eyes, all you found was a dopey smile sitting politely in front of you, panting while waiting for pets. “Aww,” You smiled, reaching down to give him some ear scratches. His already wagging tail kicked it into high gear as you did, melting your heart. “You’re just a big baby, aren’t you?” You cooed in your baby voice.

Sukuna came up from the stairs then, rolling his eyes at the scene. “Wow Brutus, good job buddy, you’re so good at being a guard dog. No ones gonna break in here, lest they get drooled on.” He scoffed.

“To be fair, Brutus’ slobber is a genuinely terrifying thing.”  Suguru pointed out. 

“It gets everywhere.” Gojo confirmed. 

“I think you guys are just cowards.” You shrugged, petting the good boy on they head.

“They are.” Sukuna confirmed, also giving Brutus a solid pat for good measure. He turned to you then. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”

“My room?” You questioned. 

“That’s what I said,” His voice had an edge to it, like he was losing his patience with every second that passed. He turned to Gojo and Suguru. “Gojo, you know where she lives right?”

“Yea, I do.” He nodded. You did not like what that implied, considering you hadn’t given him your address. But, you were already kidnapped, so, maybe it was a little late to worry.

“Good. Take Geto and go grab her essentials. Clothes, toothbrush-”

“Oh, my switch!” You added. Sukuna glared at you from the corners of his eyes. “What?” You asked, “Someone’s gotta take care of my animal crossing island!” Sukuna closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Her switch, I fucking guess, and bring it back here.” He said, “Don’t fuck it up.” He wasn’t sure how they would fuck it up to be fair, but they had surprised him before. 

“Got it Boss!” Satoru said, saluting Sukuna before grabbing Suguru and heading for the door.

“Oh, and Gojo?” Sukuna called right before they reached the door. Gojo froze.

“Yea Boss?”

“We’re not done here. See me when you get back.” His voice was dark. Nothing he said was threatening, but if that was true then why were the hairs on the back of your neck standing up? And why did Gojo physically cringe, as if future him was giving him a taste of pain yet to come? 

“Understood Boss.” He said, leaving with Suguru. And with that, you were alone with a mob boss. Sukuna turned to you, blatantly eyeing you up. You suddenly felt shy under his gaze.

“Come on, your room is upstairs.” He said, moving past you to an opulent staircase on the opposite wall of the living room. You followed him, not really sure what else to do. 

“You know, you’re surprisingly calm about all of this.” Sukuna said as the two of you climbed the stairs, “Not gonna lie, I kinda expected you to like…argue with me about all of this.”

“Do you want me to argue with you?” You asked.

“No, not really. I’m just curious about why you’re not.” He explained.

“Rent’s expensive,” You shrugged, “I was like, a week away from eviction.” You admitted, looking down to try and hide your shame. It wasn’t like you had done anything wrong either. You had done everything right, followed all the money tips you could, given up iced coffee. Turns out, rent is substantially more expensive than iced coffee and when your job doesn't pay a living wage, well- living is hard. “Honestly, I kinda need a place to crash.”

“Oh, I see. Well, lucky you then.” He chuckled softly as you reached the top of the staircase. You didn’t know if you’d call yourself lucky, but, you’d take what you could get. “Here, this one’s yours.” Sukuna said, opening a door to the right. You walked into an extravagant red room, a giant bed covered in black silk with a tall canopy sat as the center piece with a black wardrobe off to the side. 

“Is this like, your sex room?” You asked, your mouth moving faster than your brain. He gave a short snappy ‘HA!’ at your joke, shaking his head softly.

“Yeah, you wish.” He accused, and yeah he was right. You kinda did wish. “This is just the guest room.”

“So…Do I live with you now?” You asked as you moved to sit on the bed. A reasonable question. Sukuna leaned against the doorway, moving his head back and fourth in the universal motion of ‘I have no fucking idea, give me a sec while I think of what to say.’

“Eh, “live” is a strong word.” He finally said with a shrug. “You’re just here until we can come up with a better solution.” He explained. You nodded, accepting that you weren’t going to get a straight answer- because he didn’t have one to give. 

“Well that’s exciting.” You mumbled, trying to rub the tired out of your eyes. It had been a long day.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll figure out what to do with you in a few days.” He tried to comfort you, before finally leaving you alone.

🚬🚬🚬

A few days had quickly turned into a few weeks. You had acclimated to your new life well, learning when to ask questions and when not to. Brutus had become your best friend, and Sukuna your odd roommate who left at weird times in the night. You were more comfortable with your situation than you were willing to admit. Turns out, you weren’t above all those other Y N girlies that immediately got stockholm syndrome after a day of kidnapping.

Still, that didn’t mean you felt particularly safe. The moment you started to, something happened. The very next time you saw Gojo after he left to grab your things, his arm was in a cast. You would hear screaming- or worse begging- from the basement. An already hushed conversation would fall completely silent as you came down the stairs. There was always something to remind you that you were not here of your own free will. 

“Ummm…Shota?” You asked from your spot on the couch, watching him put on his jacket.

“Nope.” 

“Hmmm…Akira?” Your relationship with Sukuna was an odd one. The two of you had grown comfortable with each others presence, enough that you would find yourself casually hanging out with him, or in this case, pestering him as you tried to guess his first name.

“Wrong again.” He said, checking the jacket to make sure his cigarettes were in one of the pockets. They weren’t.

“Yuji?”

“Gross no- Do I look like a Yuji to you?” That one seemed to genuinely offend him a bit. You had to be getting close.

“Yagi?”

“Y/n, why does it matter to you so much that you know my first name?” He asked, grabbing his smokes from the end table next to the couch. He made eye contact with you when he did it, and you felt your stomach flutter. That was another thing that was quickly developing. It seemed like every day it took less and less from him to make you flustered. 

“Cause you know mine!” You said, pressing your thighs together to push back your less than holy thoughts. “It only seems fair that I should know yours too.”

“I’m not interested in what’s fair Doll, you should know that.” He said, grabbing his keys off the hook by the door. You hated when he called you Doll, mostly because of how much you loved  it when he called you Doll. It always stirred something in you that you tried to suppress, something you knew would make an already not ideal situation worse. Admitting you had feelings for Sukuna felt akin to a death sentence right now, especially considering the very real likelihood that they were one sided.

“If you weren’t interested in what’s fair, you would have killed me by now!” You pointed out.

“Don’t forget to feed Brutus, I’ll be home late.” He completely ignored your very valid point. You huffed as you watched him walk out of the door. Bastard. Asshole. Tyrant, even! In the space between where your true feelings were-and what you were willing to admit to feeling- resentment grew. He had ripped you from the life you had built before, and cultivated this caricature of intimacy that he fully expected you to participate in; all while refusing to give you information as basic as his first name. It wasn’t just unfair, at times it felt cruel.

A soft whine from the nearby kitchen brought you back to reality. You smiled softly at the gentle giant waiting for dinner. “You hungry buddy?” You asked, laughing at his happy woof as you got up to fill his bowl. 

You went about your nightly routine as you normally did, minus dinner with Sukuna, ending the night curled up on the couch in your pajamas with Brutus, reading one of the many books that littered the mansion. You couldn’t focus on the words though, your mind finding the ticking of the clock much more interesting. Something was off. You looked up to see that it was already 5 AM. Sukuna was prone to coming home late, but never this late. Something was wrong. 

You weren’t sure what to do here. You were captive here, it’s not like you had access to a phone. Even if you did, who would you call? You knew Nanami was his most reliable comrade, but if Sukuna was in trouble there was a 70% chance Nanami was too. Suguru? Maybe, but- you shook your head as you realized none of this mattered when you had zero way of contacting any of these men. You could try and go look for him yourself, but you knew the door was locked. It needed a code to be opened, a code you didn’t have. Brutus whined from beside you, feeding off your nervous energy. Your fingers felt numb as you mindlessly chewed your nails, failing to think of anything other than where Sukuna was at that moment.

“Where are you Suka-” It was like you summoned him, before you could even finish your sentence the door exploded open and he came tumbling inside. You thought having him come home would be a relief, but the blood covering his side washed away any possible relief that could have come from his return.

“Motherfucker-” Was all he could get out before collapsing against the wall next to the door.

“Sukuna!” You yelled, rushing to his side, “Sukuna, holy shit, what happened?!” You demanded, wrapping his arm around your shoulders while you tried to lead him to the couch. You thought it would have been harder, moving a wall of muscle that much bigger than you any amount. But it turns out, adrenaline really is one hell of a drug!

“I got shot, what’s it look like happened?!” He snapped, hissing through his teeth as you placed him on the couch. Suddenly, you understood why everything in this house was red. He almost disappeared into the scarlet couch, the red consuming him, threatening to take him away. “Brutus! First Aid!” He yelled, before groaning in pain. Somewhere along the way, he lost his jacket, making it a lot easier for you to rip off his bloodied dress shirt. 

Oh man, that was bad. You weren’t even queasy around blood, but there was a lot here. Before you could get too much in your head and lose your dinner, you felt a fuzzy head nudge into your leg. You looked down to see Brutus looking up at you, first aid kit hanging from his mouth. He was officially the smartest dumb dog you had ever met. 

“Oh, Good boy Brutus!” You praised, scratching the sides of his face and his floppy ears.

“Y/n, losing blood kinda fast over here!” Sukuna reminded, quickly snapping you back into the severity of the moment.

“Right, sorry!” You yelped, opening the kit. Of course Sukuna wouldn’t have a normal first aid kit. This was one of the most extensive kits you’d seen. You pulled the latex gloves over your hands before straddling his lap, trying to get a better look at him. Three bullet wounds, one logged into his shoulder, one to his side under his rib cage, and one that just grazed his side. You could still see the bullet in the first two.

“Oh jesus..” You muttered, grabbing the long glorified tweezers from the kit, “So, uh, this is gonna hurt.” You said, mouth moving without your mind. 

“Oh, that so?!” He snapped, “I thought it was gonna feel like fucking butterfly kisses!” Oh man, he was starting to look pale.

“Okay, well now I’m not sorry for this.” You muttered, digging the tweezers into his shoulder to get the bullet. He hissed sharply through his teeth, hands finding your hips and grabbing you hard enough to bruise. This was not the scenario you thought of when you imagined Sukuna bruising your hips, but life is often funny that way.

“Okay, that’s one out.” You said as you extracted the metal. He let out a shallow breath, trying hard to regulate his breathing. 

“Fuck Y/n..” He whined, and you felt your chest burn. You wondered if that’s what he would sound like on to-NOPE not the time to think like that! 

“I’m going to get the second one now, okay?” You asked. He nodded, his body tensing against his will in anticipation. This one was deeper. You watched his abs flex as he moaned in pain, biting his lip to concentrate on anything other than the searing pain in his abdomen. This would be a lot easier if he could stop being hot for like, five seconds. “I’m sorry.” You muttered softly, wishing there was anything you could do to help with the pain.

“Don’t- Don’t.” You could tell he wanted to say more, but he just couldn’t. You finally pulled the final bullet out. You pulled the bottle of iodine out of the kit, assuming it was for disinfecting- something he was going to desperately need. You wanted to suggest a hospital, but you knew better. A hospital meant cops, and he couldn’t have that. Especially not right now. So you poured a generous amount of the iodine on his wounds, only for him to scream.

“AAH, WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!” He yelped as a new wave of pain scorched it’s way through his body.

“I THOUGHT IT WAS A DISINFECTANT!” You yelled in panic, using a piece of gauze to try and wipe it up.

“YEAH, FOR BURNS.”

“THEN WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO USE?!”

“WATER!!” Oh yeah, that checked. The bottle of distilled water in the kit made a lot more sense now. You opened it, using that to clean his wounds instead, and using it to try and wash away some of the dried blood in the process. 

“Shit, I’m sorry! I’m not a nurse, okay!?” You tried to defend yourself in a panic. Then it dawned on you the next step in the process. “I wasn’t very good at home ec either...” You confessed.

“What does that have to do with- Oh god.” He threw his head back on the couch as he realized stitches were next. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before pulling his head back up, his eyes meeting yours almost instantly. It was like he was searching your very soul for something, though you had no idea what he was trying to find. You wanted to shrink away, but you found yourself trapped by his gaze. 

“I trust you Y/n. Don’t fuck me up.” He finally said. You wondered how he could be so confident in anything while bleeding out on a couch, but you guessed that was a question for some other time. You nodded, grabbing the surgical needle and thread. It couldn’t be that hard, right? In one side and out the other. You had this.

He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth as you made the first sitch, digging his nails into your hips and subconsciously pulling you closer. He flinched at the second stitch, bucking his hips into yours in the process. 

“Hold still!” You chastised him. You really wished all of this was happening under different circumstances. You realized this was probably the closest you had ever been to him. Focus Y/n, focus! You finished his shoulder, before moving on to the one in his side, and finishing with the gash. You were shocked how good your stitches were when you weren’t over thinking it. Not perfect by any means, but far better than you thought. 

“Okay, the worst is over.” You said, pushing his damp hair out of his face gently. He looked at you through his eyelashes, an expression you had no hope of reading on his face. You cleared your throat before grabbing the gauze to bandage him up. He was quiet while you worked. You had almost finished with the bandages when he spoke again.

“Ryomen.” He finally said.

“What?” You asked, confusion leaking into your voice as you finished wrapping up the last wound. You looked at him.

“My name’s Ryomen.” You weren’t sure what you expected him to say after all of this, but it definitely wasn’t that. You stared at him, trying to figure out how to process any of what the fuck just happened. Was this your life now? Was this your forever? He brought a shaky hand to the side of your face, brushing away a tear you didn’t even know was there.

“Why are you cryin’ Doll?” He asked softly. His eyes didn’t have the edge you were so used to in them. Be it from the blood loss or him being grateful for your subpar nursing, all of his edges had been rounded down to soft bumps. 

“I thought I was going to lose you..” You whimpered softly. 

“Oh, Y/n,” He cooed softly, “I’m not going anywhere.” He promised, pressing his forehead to yours. “Don’t cry over me.” He lazily rubbed your cheek with his thumb, trying to comfort you despite the fact he was the one that had just got shot, multiple times. You were sure the blood loss was getting to his head, this was far too intimate. Far too sweet. The stress of the situation hit you all at once, the adrenaline leaving your body as distress took it’s place. 

You took a jagged breath in, realizing you were crying as you did so. He quietly pulled you into a hug, pressing you into his chest. The steady beat of his heart admittedly brought you some comfort, reminding you that he was alive and well-ish. You weren’t sure when you fell asleep. When you woke up in your room the next morning, you were convinced it was all a bad dream. Surely he wouldn’t have been able to lug your sleeping body to your room after all of that, right?

The faint blood stains on the couch told a different story.

🚬🚬🚬

If you thought your relationship with Ryomen was weird before, it was really weird now. Before, you were positive you had a one sided crush. Something brought on by proximity and not much else, and a feeling he most definitely did not share. Now though? Now you were sure there was something else there, and that he felt it too. It showed itself in small ways. In the way he brushed against you when you were cooking together, in the way Suguru’s job had gotten significantly harder when Ryomen had noticed how close the two of you had gotten, and in the way he had gotten more protective of you than he had ever been before. 

“Oh Suge Knight totally had 2pac killed.” Suguru said with a shrug.

“No way, that doesn’t make sense!” You argued, “Why would he call a hit on his best selling artist?”

“To take control of his catalog, duh,” He said this as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “More money to be made if you don’t have an artist to pay.”

“Yeah, except now there’s no artist to make more music and therefore more money!” you pointed out, “Besides, why would he have a car he’s in get shot up?”

“So people ask that exact question!” Suguru argued, waving his hands for emphasis.

“Do you two have nothing better to talk about than decades old conspiracy theories?” Ryomen asked as he entered the kitchen, walking up to the bar where you sat with Suguru. He always seemed annoyed when the two of you hung out together. The toxic part of your brain liked it. Satoru wasn’t far behind him, his wrist still in a brace from a months old injury. You felt a little bad when you saw it these days. It must have been a nasty shatter. 

“I’d argue there’s no better topic of conversation than decades old murder conspiracies.” Satoru said, taking a seat next to Suguru. 

“I’d argue you’re the last person I’d consider an authority on topics of conversation.” Nanami said, suddenly alerting you to his presence. That man was like a ghost, you only saw him when he wanted you to. He moved over to the fridge, pulling out a beer and using the counter to open it. A move that would get Satoru or Suguru a one way ticket to the afterlife, completely ignored by Ryomen because Nanami was useful.

“Y/n, I need you to go to your room.” Ryomen said, checking his watch. “Sooner rather than later.”

“What, why?” You asked, not a fan of being kicked out of the kitchen you now considered to be yours. 

“Because I told you to. Don’t come out until I come get you.” His tone left no room for argument or conversation. You bit your tongue, knowing better than to undermine him in front of his men, especially his lieutenants. 

“Whatever.” You groaned as you left, going and locking yourself in your room. As much as it annoyed you, this was fairly common at this point. Whenever the boys had “Official Business” you’d be banished to your bedroom until they deemed it safe for you to be let free. A very clear reminder that you were an outsider here. You weren’t in your room long before there was a knock on your door.

“Already?!” You asked.

“No.” Nanami said, “I’m here to deliver Brutus.” Confused, you went and opened the door. Sure enough, Brutus came barreling into the room as the door opened, going and jumping onto your bed. “Boss wants him to be with you.” Nanami said, as if that was going to answer your puzzled look. 

“Why? What’s going on?” You asked in a hushed tone. Nanami's eyes darted over to the staircase, making sure no one was coming up them.

“A representative of Naoya Zenin is going to be here tonight.” Zenin. You heard that name enough before to know he was one of Ryomen’s rivals, someone previously teamed up with Toji.

“What? Why is he sending someone here?”

“Fushiguru has been shorting him and his team when it comes to their cut of narcotics sales. Considering they’re the ones making all the drugs Toji sells, he’s not happy about it. So he’s looking to start a partnership with us instead.” You were thankful for Nanami. Everyone else here treated you like a delicate flower: like telling you what was going on would make you wilt. Nanami had always kept it straight with you, telling you the facts as they were. To him, you were just as involved as they all were, even if that was only due to your proximity to it all.

“And he’s not showing up himself?” You asked, remembering that Nanami had said a representative of his was coming. He shrugged.

“What can I say? The man’s a coward.” There was a knock on the door after he said that, signaling to him that he needed to get back downstairs. “Stay safe Y/n.” He said, turning to join the others.

“You too.” You responded, but you were pretty sure he didn’t hear it. You sighed as you closed your door, joining the overgrown puppy on your bed. You decided to hop on your switch, needing some way to kill the time. You weren’t sure how long you spent trying to get Moose off your island before you registered that Brutus was whining by your door. 

“What’s wrong big guy?” You asked, putting your switch down. He whined some more, shifting uncomfortably in front of the door. “Oh no, you have to potty, don’t you?” You could have sworn that dog nodded at you. Really?! They didn’t let him out first?! You wondered what to do. You knew disobeying Ryomen wasn’t acceptable, but you couldn’t just let your baby suffer! Another whimper from Brutus made the decision for you. Ryomen would understand.

You opened your door and walked Brutus down the stairs, hoping you could avoid wherever the meeting was happening. You should have known that was delusional, because the moment you walked into the kitchen, you found them all holding their meeting around the bar. Ryomen pinched the bridge of his nose the moment he saw you. Ah fuck.

“Well hello there Gorgeous, who are you?” A man you had never seen before asked. He made your stomach turn. He had his long blue hair parted into three pony tails, and long surgical scars marred his face. That wasn’t what made him so revolting though. It was his smile. It didn’t feel right. Like a monster recreating it’s prey’s mannerisms, a wolf in poorly fitted sheep’s clothing. You wished you stayed in your room.

“It doesn’t matter who she is, you’re not here to talk to her.” Ryomen said, allowing no room for conversation. You followed his lead, going and opening the back door for Brutus without acknowledging the mimic in your home. 

“Oh, don’t be rude Sukuna. Is she your wife?” It asked.

“Doesn’t matter, we’re not here to talk about my personal life.”

“Oh, don’t be like that.” He turned to you, and you wished Brutus would hurry up. “I’m Mahito sweetie. And you are?”

“I think the Boss made it clear, we should get back on topic.” Nanami said, adjusting to put his hand in his suit jacket. The Mahito creature got the hint, raising his hands in his defense.

“Okay, okay, okay. Pardon me for trying to be polite at a business meeting, I won’t do it again.”

“Good.” Ryomen said, lighting a smoke and watching closely as Brutus ran in and took his place by your side. He saw the way Brutus held back a growl. That wasn’t a good sign. “You said Zenin wanted fifty percent? That’s not going to work for us.”

“Oh? And why’s that?”

“Selling is signif-” That was all you heard as you rushed back up stairs. Once in your room, you tried to regulate your heartbeat, to clam your jittering bones. You felt like you had just encountered some old primal evil. Something so off your ancestors were warning you to be weary of it from beyond the grave. You sat next to Brutus on your bed, hiding your face in his fur to try and calm down. 

It worked for a while, until you heard him growl. You looked up to see the monster in your room. You yelped softly, instinctively backing away. You wished you hadn’t forgotten to close your door.

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” He said, showing that “smile” again. “I just thought it was a shame we didn’t get to properly meet back there.” Your blood felt slimy in your veins as you realized you were going to have to play nice with this guy. His business was important to Ryomen, or else he wouldn’t be in the house.

“Oh, yea I guess.” You muttered softly, petting Brutus to try and calm him.

“What’s your name sweetheart?” He asked, stepping even further into your room and closing the door behind him. Your joints suddenly felt weak with static, every fiber of your animal brain telling you you were dealing with a predator. 

“Y/n.” You responded, refusing to make eye contact with his mis-matched eyes.

“That’s a pretty name Y/n. You Ryomen’s girl, or his pet?” You didn’t like anything coming out of his mouth.

“I’m um, his roommate.” You guess, and instantly realized you guessed wrong. “Shouldn’t you be downstairs with the others?”

“Oh, they’ll be fine without me for a few minutes.” He said, and you realized he was getting closer. You stood up, only to realize he was in between you and the door. 

“Hey, uh, I really think you should go back down, they’re probably looking for-”

“I don’t care.” He scoffed, closing the distance and grabbing you. He tried to force you on the bed, but I guess that dumb ass missed the giant fuck you dog that was in that room for the sole purpose of protecting you. He didn’t get past putting his hands on your shoulders before Brutus’s teeth were in his leg, ripping muscle from bone. The scream that left Mahito was visceral, the kind that haunts people at night.

“RYOMEN!!” You yelled, pressing yourself against the wall while Brutus did his thing, jerking his head, pulling the man away from you as another horrific scream left him.

“I fucking knew it!” Ryomen snapped, ripping your attention away from the bloody scene in front of you and to the four men spilling into your room, Ryomen leading the pack.

“CALL OFF YOUR DOG!” The rag doll begged.

“Brutus, down!” Ryomen ordered. Without hesitation the Rott had let go, and had placed himself between you and your attacker in case he needed to act again.

“Oh thank-” Mahito didn’t get to finish that sentence. 

“He’s mine.” Ryomen growled, grabbing him by his scalp. “You think you can come into my house and attack my girl and get away with it?!” He snapped, taking the lit cigarette from his mouth and putting it out in Mahitos’ right eye. You’re not sure what was going to stick with you more, the smell- or the sound that came out of the monster. Ryomen threw the screaming, bloodied man, to the floor behind him. “Take him to the basement, I’ll be there soon.” He said. Without hesitation all three men acted, grabbing the begging Mahito and dragging him down the stairs.

Ryomen walked over to you, gently taking your head in his hands. “Did he hurt you?”

“No, Brutus protected me.” You hated the quiver in your voice as you said that. Ryomen looked down at the dopey dog, smiling with blood on his muzzle. He gave a small affectionate smile as he pet the dog. 

“Good boy.” He praised before turning back to you. “I’m going to go take care of the trash in the basement, then I’ll be back, okay?”

“I’m so sor-”

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. He did. I’ll be back.” He assured you, gently patting your cheek before leaving the room you weren’t sure you felt safe in anymore. You weren’t sure how long he was gone for. At least long enough for you to clean up Brutus, and to try and clean up all the gore. At least your carpet was dark gray. You wondered how many other stains it hid, and of what variety.

You weren’t expecting how relieved you were when you finally heard a knock, opening the door to reveal a freshly showered Ryomen. You wondered what he looked like before washing the blood away, but the only image your mind conjured was him bleeding out on the couch. So you stopped wondering.

“Pack a bag, you’re leaving.” He explained. His tone was unreadable, and all it did was piss you off.

“What? What do you mean I’m leaving?!” You demanded.

“I mean wh-”

“No Ryomen, I want an actual fucking explanation.” You saw his jaw clench, as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You gotta get better about that interrupting bullshit.” He growled. “Zenin is definitely going to send someone to look for his missing boy. And when he does, he’s not going to find you here. Gojo already reserved you a hotel suite for a week, it’s temporary.” He explained as he walked away. “I’ll be waiting for you in the living room.”

You groaned as you threw together a bag. You understood his reasoning, but you were getting real sick of feeling like nothing in your life was under your control. Like you were at the mercy of a crazed mob boss. Probably because you were. You were starting to wonder if all of this was really worth not having to pay rent.

Ultimately you decided it was. Really, it was no different from existing under capitalism, and at least in this situation you could sometimes reason with your captor. You came downstairs with your bag, took at least ten minuets to say goodbye to Brutus- promising him you’d be back and that he was the best boy- and finally loaded yourself into Ryomen’s too-expensive-for-you-to-be-in car. The drive was silent, tense almost. He chain smoked out of the window, not even bothering to look at you.

“Um, are you mad at me?” You finally had to ask.

“No.” Well that didn’t sound like he wasn’t mad at you.

“You sound mad.” You pointed out.

“Good observation.” He scoffed, throwing his dead cigarette butt out the window, and immediately going to light another. 

“That’s probably not good for your lungs ya know.” His glare could have frozen the sun. “I’m just sayin’!”

“I promise you, I’d be lucky if lung cancer is what kills me.” He “assured” you.

“You promise you’re not mad at me?”

“Y/n.” He growled, “I said I’m not mad at you, didn’t I? Why can’t you just believe me?”

“Cause you sound like, really really ma-”

“That’s because I’m mad at myself, not you!” He snapped, before catching himself with a growl, pinching the bridge of his nose for a second. He took a long drag off his smoke and ashed it out the window, holding the smoke in his lungs until the burn threatened to consume him. “Just. Drop it.” He finally said as the two of you pulled into a hotel parking lot. It was honestly nicer than you were expecting! “We’re here.” He informed you, grabbing your bag as the two of you left the car. 

It was clear Sukuna was known here, considering he didn’t technically check in. He was just given a key as he passed the front desk, and told a room number. You hoped it wasn’t that easy for everyone. He ushered you to the elevator before giving you the spare key he was given. “Room 237.” He said.

“Wait, like The Shining?!” you gasped, looking at him with wide eyes.

“I-I guess?” He very clearly wasn’t expecting that reaction to informing you of your room number. “Sorry, I’m thrown, are you excited or?-”

“I just think it’s neat.” You beamed.

“...Okay.” Sukuna sighed, deciding he had more important things to worry about at the moment than if you liked your room number or not. Once inside the room, he immediately started checking for bugs, both the organic and inorganic kind. An old habit that he saw no need to kill. While he did that, you looked around the suite, familiarizing yourself with the layout.

“Hey, Ryomen? I only see one bed?” You questioned, not finding another place for him to sleep.

“Yeah? Is that a problem?” He asked, joining you in the bedroom.

“Well where are you going to sleep?” You inquired. He was confused again. 

“In my bed? At my house?” Oh hell no he wasn’t!

“What?! No way, you can’t leave me!” You protested, getting real sick of his shit.

“I assure you, I can do whatever I want,” He scoffed, “Someone needs to watch the house.”

“Fuck that, have Nanami do it! What if they find me here?!” You didn’t have Brutus, and you weren’t confident in your ability to hold your own in a fight with experienced criminals.

“No one is going to come for you here Y/n-” He tried to reason, but you were having none of it.

“Are you sure?!” You demanded, “Can you promise me that?! Can you look me in the eye and swear to me that we weren’t followed? That no one’s going to show up here looking for you and hurt me instead? That no one wants revenge for that ragdolls life?! Can you be sure?!” He was quiet. Truth be told, he couldn’t. And he had already fucked up and let you get hurt once, he wasn’t going to do it again. He let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh.

“Fine, fine. I’ll call Nanami and have him-”

“I don’t want Nanami here, I want you.” You insisted. Your words hung heavy in the air, both of you trying to hear what was left unsaid in the silence. The tension was growing, begging for someone to say something, anything. Finally, Ryomen sighed again,

“Okay, I’ll stay. Let me go call Nanami so he knows to watch the house.” He said, pulling his phone out of his pocket and stepping out to call his lieutenant. He was gone for longer than you expected. You worried about what was being said, though you didn't know why you were so worried. You just felt anxious. Finally, he came back.

“Alright, everything is settled.” He let you know, “I’m going to sleep on the couch, just…get some sleep okay?” He said, gently cupping your cheek, “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” He assured you. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and nodded. 

“Okay, thank you.” You sighed, looking up at him. He was closer than you realized. He hadn’t let go of your cheek yet either. Your eyes connected, and for a split second, the whole world seemed to stop. He was close enough you could smell the coffee and cigarette scent that seemed to permanently cling to him. If you focused hard enough, you could feel the heat coming off of him. “Kiss me.” You mentally begged him, “Kiss me, just kiss me!”

“Sleep well Y/n.” He said, patting your face as he left the room. You almost screamed at him to get back here and finish what he started, but realized it probably wouldn’t do much. If he wanted to, he would have. He said it himself, he does whatever he wants. You settled for just screaming into the pillow as you flopped into the overly stuffed mattress instead. This shit sucked. 

Everything felt hot, too hot. You felt like you were caught in an inferno, feeling his hips buck into yours. You felt his warm mouth trail kisses down your neck. You twisted your hands, feeling your wrists flex under his large hand. “You’re so good for me pretty girl.” He praised in your ear.

“Ryomen-” You gasped, saying his name like a prayer.

“Say it again Y/n.”

“Ryomen..”

“Again..”

“Ro-”

“Y/n!” You jumped out of your sleep, yelping softly as Sukuna’s voice jolted you out of the dream realm. You looked around, trying to reorient yourself. You still felt flustered from your dream, and now flustered from embarrassment. 

“Ryomen?” You asked, looking at the man sitting on the side of your bed, him looking at you with concerned eyes in return. “What are you doing in here?”

“You called for me.” He informed you, and you wanted to melt away from the embarrassment. “I thought you we’re having a nightmare, so I woke you up,” He explained, “Are you okay?”

“A nightmare…yeah…” You took the excuse and ran, “Yeah, yeah I’m okay. I don’t even remember what happened in it honestly…” You lied. He sighed and rubbed his face, getting up to leave. “Wait!” You called, grabbing his hand before he could get too far. There goes your stupid body, moving faster than your brain again. “I-...I don’t want to be alone.” You explained. It was technically the truth. 

He looked down at you, quiet for a second, then grumbled. “Whatever. Scoot over.” He muttered. You smiled, happy to make room for him. He slipped himself under the covers, getting comfortable surprisingly quickly for someone in a dress shirt and slacks. For a guy that was surrounded with luxury and creature comforts, he really didn’t seem to need any of them. It didn’t seem like he was very accustomed to them either. He laid on his back, and you couldn’t help but notice how comfortable his chest looked. 

So you moved next to him, resting your head on his chest. He looked down at you, but didn’t push you away. Quite the opposite actually, he wrapped one of his arms around you, holding you close to his side. It woke up the butterflies in your stomach, sending them into overdrive. 

“Thank you.” You whispered to him. 

“For what?” He asked.

“Staying with me. Taking care of me.”

“...Di-..did you just thank me for kidnapping you?” He questioned, looking down at you as best he could and raising an eyebrow. You laughed a little at his reaction.

“I guess I did, yeah.” You giggled, trying to push yourself closer to him.

“You’re welcome?” You never failed to confuse and confound him. Maybe that’s why he liked you so much. You kept him on his toes. “You know most people aren’t okay with being kidnapped, right? It’s considered a bad thing.”

“I’m not most people.” You shrugged. “Like, yeah I see how on paper it’s bad but..I don’t know. It kinda came at the perfect time for me. I got to walk out of my shitty job, I didn’t have to deal with getting evicted, let’s not even get started on how honestly lonely I was..I don’t know. I guess it’s bad for most people, but it was a miracle for me. Is there a word for bad miracle?”

“Your stalkhom syndrome is showing.”

“I don’t think it’s that,” You chuckled, shifting to be able to look up at him, “Have you ever considered I just like being around you?”

“Why would you?” He muttered.

“Why wouldn't I?” You replied. There it was again. That warm feeling that seemed to envelop you wherever you were in Ryomen’s arms, coupled with the feeling that comes right before the lighting strikes. You used the dim moonlight fluttering in from your window to connect your eyes with his. You swore up and down his eyes glowed in low light, the unnatural red that should be so off putting only drawing you deeper into him. 

“You’re beautiful.” He whispered softly, and you felt your chest tighten. He had never said anything like that to you before. It made you feel almost giddy, your heart doing the screaming and squealing your throat wouldn’t currently allow. Before you could respond, his lips were finally on yours and it felt like fireworks were going off in every fiber of your being. You felt your blood rushing in your veins as you moved to tangle your fingers in his hair, months of tension finally snapping in a million electric sparks. 

He bit your lip, using your soft gasp to deepen the kiss. He pulled you closer to him, if that was even possible, growling softly as you tugged at his hair. It was like the two of you truly couldn’t get enough of each other, trying to make up for months worth of lost time and build up with one impossibly impassioned kiss. He rolled the two of you over so you were under him, and moved to kiss your neck. You moaned softly as he did, feeling the bruises he was biting already starting to form. You loved the idea of it, of obvious evidence you really were his girl. 

You felt your breathing get heavy as he ran his hands up your waist and under your shirt, feeling the soft skin waiting for him there. He pulled away long enough to pull your shirt over your head, leaving you in just your sleep shorts.

 “Fuck.” He whispered when he finally saw you without your top on. He took the time to truly marvel you, the way you imagined a painter would look at his magnum opus. It filled you with a confidence unlike anything else, for someone so beautiful to look at you the way Adonis had looked at Aphrodite. 

“You look so much better than I imagined.” he praised, finally finding his voice again. 

“So you’ve imagined me topless?” You teased.

“I’ve imagined more than just you topless.” He smirked, hands roaming lower on your body. You felt your breath hitch in your chest as he hooked his thumbs under your shorts. You weren’t positive this wasn’t another dream, but either way, you planned to enjoy this. Though, he was wearing far too much clothes for that. Before he could take your bottoms off, you were sitting up, connecting your lips to his again as your fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. You always thought he looked stunning in them, but right now you despised the small buttons. He chuckled a bit, pulling away from you.

“Eager, huh?” he teased, “Here, I got it.” You felt almost embarrassed as he expertly got all the buttons undone and the shirt off in the time it took you to unhook three of them. But- in your defense- he took those shirts off everyday and this was your first time taking anything off him. You bit your lip as you took in his topless form. It looked so much better not covered in blood, you could better see the tattooed skin that laid there. 

And the scars. There were a few etched into his skin, but you were most concerned with three. Your fingers went to touch one of the circular scars, feeling the puckered healed skin on his shoulder. You felt a pang of regret. If you had done better that night, would he have scarred? You didn’t have time to think before you felt his hand on yours, softly pressing your fingers into the healed wound.

“Like it?” He chuckled, “It’s one of my favorites.”

“Why?” You asked, trying not to think about him covered in blood again.

“It makes me think of you.” He said, pulling you into another heated kiss. You felt your body react to him, pressing yourself closer to him and wrapping your arms around his neck. You felt dizzy with want, your entire being buzzing with anticipation as he pressed you back into the mattress, kissing down your jaw, your neck, your torso, until he was where you wanted him the most. You bit your lip in anticipation, feeling him hook his thumbs into your bottoms, waiting for him.

“What do you want Doll?” He asked from in between your legs. 

“You.” You whimpered softly.

“I’m right here,” He reminded you, “What do you want from me?” You whined as you bucked your hips at him. He grabbed them and pressed you into the mattress, making you groan louder.

“I don’t know!” You confessed.

“Babygirl, we haven’t even done anything, you can’t be fucked stupid just yet.” he tsked. 

“I just want you to touch me...” You begged.

“I am touching you.” 

“Ryo!” You whined, wriggling under him.

“Ryo?” He snorted, “That’s cute.” In all the times you had imagined yourself fucking Ryomen Sukuna, you had never imagined he’d be this fucking infuriating. You gave a stranged whine to let him know just how upset you were. “Sorry Doll, I don’t speak whine. You’re gonna have to use your big girl words.”

“Ryomen, please!” You begged, “I- I want..fuck, I want your mouth.” You finally decided, “I want to know what your mouth feels like.” Ryomen’s grin was dark as he finally pulled down your shorts and underwear in one fluid motion.

“Good girl.” he praised, and before you could properly react, he was running his tongue from your entrance to your clit, wrapping his lips around your bundle of nerves and giving it a sharp suck. Excitement exploded in your chest as your hands rushed to his hair, trying to find anything to ground yourself. He growled as you pulled him closer to you. 

Every pass of his tongue sent another wave of euphoria coursing through your core, leaving you soft under him. You brain officially checked out for the night, rolling your hips against his face to chase your high. You moaned his name shamelessly, losing your ability to regulate your volume in the pleasure he was giving you. This volume regulation problem worsened as he pushed two fingers into your weeping cunt, curling up and successfully gracing the sweet spot inside you. Some part of your brain was sure the next room over knew Ryomen’s name now.

And it was driving him crazy. Ryomen couldn’t take his eyes off of you. The way your eyes screwed shut, the way the sweat cascaded down your body, the way his name sounded so fucking pretty falling off your lips. He spent a lot of time fucking his hand to the thought of fucking you with his mouth, among other things, and his imagination couldn’t come close to creating the magic of the real thing. He had to use his free hand to palm himself through his slacks, desperate for any sort of relief. The only thing he wanted more than to fuck you in that moment was to taste you as you came on his face. He needed it more than he needed to breathe.

“R-ryo, I- close..” You whined, your mind struggling to conjugate a proper sentence. That’s what he liked to hear. Your head was full of dopamine and ecstasy, your entire body buzzed with anticipation and need. You felt like you were barreling to the edge of the earth with no hope of stopping. You heard him moan as you pulled his hair again, pulling him closer as you rode his face straight to your climax, feeling the ecstasy explode in your veins. You felt like you were floating in a sea of pleasure, except the sea was in the middle of a tropical storm and every cutting wave that hit you left you weaker than the last. Your vision went white hot, and you were struggling to keep your breath. 

“Fuck, fuck, Ryo! Ryomen! So good Ryo..” You chanted his name like a witch trying to evoke a long dead deity. And he couldn’t get enough of it, eating you out throughout your high as he licked up everything you had to give him and more. He didn’t let up until your legs were trembling around his head. He kissed bruises in your shaking thighs as he pulled away, wiping his mouth and looking at you with dark eyes. Something primal held behind pupils blown wide with lust. He wiped his mouth with a wicked grin. 

“You taste so good Doll,” He praised, slipping his fingers out of your cunt and into your mouth. You started sucking without thinking, grabbing his hand to keep him there as you licked his fingers clean. “Glad you agree.” He chuckled darkly, feeling his dick twitch under his clothes. His entire body felt like it was on fire, and the only thing his mind could focus on was imagining how pretty you’d look trying to take his dick. 

“How ya feeling Dollface?” He asked, leaning back as he undid the button on his pants. 

“So good..” You muttered, your mind slowly finding it’s way back to your body in the sea of endorphins it was swimming in. 

“Yeah?” He chuckled, pulling you under him as he lined himself up with your weeping cunt, “Wanna feel even better?” He asked. Well he was confident, wasn’t he? You nodded, looking up to see what he was working with. You probably should have been more intimidated than you were, but at that moment all you wanted was to make him feel as good as he had made you feel. 

“Yea, I want do.” You confirmed, and he smiled smugly.

“Good girl.” He praised as he slowly sunk into you. You felt like you were being ripped apart in the most beautiful way. Your cunt weeping as it made accommodations for him. Your hands flew to his back, digging into him with enough time to feel him shudder on top of you from just how good you felt. You’d count that as a win. 

“Fuck, it’s like you were made for me pretty girl,” He moaned, dragging himself out just to push back in, gracing your g-spot as he did. You moaned under him as he did, feeling yourself melt into a puddle of need and pleasure. “So fucking good.” He purred. 

He tried to take it easy, to keep in mind that you had just came hard and were probably sensitive. He couldn’t help himself though. The way you pulled him in deeper and deeper with every thrust threw any semblance of sense out of his mind. All he could think about was how good you felt under him, and how fucking pretty every sound that came out of you was. He wanted to hear them all.

You were happy to make them all for him too, moaning pathetically under him with every push of his cock, every brush against your g-spot. You could feel your blood catch fire in your veins as he fucked you, felt yourself getting lost in the pleasure he was giving you. You felt electrified, your nervous system somehow fried and on high alert all at the same time. All you could think of was Ryomen, Ryomen, Ryomen as you felt a string of tensions knotting itself over and over in your stomach.

He pulled you impossibly closer to him, folding you into a mating press as he chased both of your highs. You instantly knew you weren’t going to last long in this new position, and all but screamed his name as you pulled at his hair. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Ryomen!” You yelled as the string inside of you finally snapped, all of the euphoria it was holding back hitting you like a god damn train. You felt your body shake, tendrils of pleasure lashing out from your core to your fingers and toes. It was like a whole body reset, your brain turning into a puddle of electrified endorphins.

He thought he was going to last longer than he ultimately did. But the way your cunt clenched around him coupled with the way your face screwed shut and how needy you sounded as you said his name- he was coming undone inside within a few more strokes, fucking the two of you through both of your climaxes before stilling, just barely managing not to collapse on top of you. 

There was a quiet that settled over the two of you in your after glow as you both caught your breath. You whined as he pulled out, going from feeling so full to so empty and hating it. He just chuckled softly, falling next to you and pulling you into his side.

“So,” You started softly, “Am I still the property of The Syndicate orr?” You asked. He chuckled softly, remembering what he said to you on the night you met. 

“No, not the Syndicate. You’re mine.” He confirmed for you.

“Isn’t that like…kinda the same thing?” You asked. He rolled his eyes. Of course you couldn't let him have his cute moment. 

“Good night Y/n, we’ll talk in the morning.” He mumbled, deciding the best move would be to try and get some sleep. The two of you were going to have a lot to talk about in the morning. 

[headkiss]

could I request joel and shy!reader, the first time that they share a bed/spend the night together? she learns that even though he is a grumpy old fart he is also a huge cuddler? I love your writing for joel!!

grumpy old fart made me giggle! here u go lovely!!! | 0.8k fluff

It feels like you’ve been walking for days, the heel of your beat-up shoes rubbing uncomfortably against your skin, your backpack feeling heavier and heavier on your shoulders.

Somehow, Joel looks unfazed. Of course, he’s got dirt all over and you’re sure he is tired, but he doesn’t look it. He’d probably keep walking until he physically couldn't anymore.

You don’t complain, because everyone’s tired and sore, and the last thing you’d want to do is cause trouble or annoyance.

Still, when you spot a motel in the distance, the relief washes over you.

There’s only one room left in the place that’s sleepable now, the rest of them blocked off or broken down from debris and years of being empty. Well, it’s technically two rooms; a door in between to conjoin them, and Ellie quickly claims one of them as her own for the night.

She shuts the conjoining door behind her, probably to have the privacy to clean up as much as possible with whatever’s in her bag.

You and Joel stand in silence for a bit, the one bed in the room sticking out a little too obviously.

“I can take the floor,” you offer.

“No, you take the bed.”

Joel’s stubborn, and cold, and often grumpy, but it doesn’t stop you from liking him. He’s risking his life to save the girl in the next room, and no matter how aloof he acts, the way he looks out for you says enough.

He’s a good man, even if he doesn’t believe it himself.

“What about your back?” You know it’s been bothering him, “you need it more than I do.”

“We’ll just share, alright?”

Joel suggests it before he really thinks it through, because he might have a hard time sleeping next to you. It’s to no fault of your own, really, he just doesn’t know how much longer he can keep you at arm’s length when he has this stupid fucking urge to hold you and protect you with all he has.

He’s not sure how someone like you wound up with someone like him, but he wouldn’t dream of complaining.

“Oh, yeah. Sure,” you say.

You like Joel more than you should and the thought of sleeping next to him has your nerves flaring. You’ve never slept next to him before, even when the body heat would’ve been helpful.

You’re quiet throughout dinner (a can of long expired Chef Boyardee split between three), busy thinking, trying to get your shit together because you shouldn’t be nervous. It’s just a bed. It’s Joel.

Happy with her meal, Ellie goes back to her room to read one of the new comic books you’d found a bit ago, leaving with a, “goodnight, dudes.”

Then, it’s just you and Joel again.

He cleans up the food as you pull back the blankets on the bed to assess the sheets. You decide on grabbing your sleeping bags and unzipping them to use as blankets instead.

“The ones on the bed are pretty gross,” you say when Joel peeks over at you, like you needed to explain yourself.

Joel knows you well by now, knows your tells and quirks, and he can see that you’re nervous, off, hands smoothing out the sleeping bags shakily.

“I can take the floor if you’re uncomfortable,” he says, walking over to you.

“No!” You answer quickly, “it’s not that. I’ve just- um, never shared a bed with anyone before.”

“You don’t have to do anything different. Just gotta sleep, okay?”

Right, just sleep, this isn’t special. You’ve gotta get a grip.

“Yeah, okay.”

“If you’d rather we can put the pillows in the middle.”

There he goes again, caring for you in small, simple ways that speak volumes.

“No, that’s alright.”

“Best get some sleep, then.”

You nod, and Joel walks around to the other side of the bed. You both climb in, laying on your backs for a bit. You can't seem to sleep, and he seems to notice.

“You good?”

“Huh?” You turn your head to look at him, cheek against the pillow, “yeah, fine.”

Joel lays on his side to face you, a distance clearly left between your bodies, “try to sleep, will you? You need it.”

“So do you.”

You’re on your side now, too, head level with his.

“I know.”

Your hand lays by your face on your pillow, and Joel’s hand inches towards it, his pinkie brushing against yours. You reach yours back, and then, your fingers are locked.

“Goodnight, Joel.”

“Night.”

You don’t know it but he falls asleep long after you, and by the time you wake, you’ve migrated, shifted positions. There’s a heavy weight over your waist, and only when you peek under the blanket do you realize that it’s Joel’s arm.

Then, you realize your head isn’t on the pillow anymore, but on his chest, the steady thump of his heart beneath your ear.

Rather than shift and wake him, you close your eyes and get a couple more hours of sleep, smiling at the discovery that Joel Miller is a cuddler.

[lukedanger]

Owlcatober - Day 6 - Alone

For the sixth day of @owlcatober, "Kitrane" meeting Ember.

(I originally meant this for Day 2, Fake Names, but as I wrote it, it fit 'alone' far better)

[Ao3 Link]

Lady Kitrane of the Green Crows was a mask.

Galfrey had known this when she had hastily concocted the plan - she had not used that as a given name since she had snuck out of Nerosyan for a misadventure in the Estrovian Forest in her youth. The Green Crows then had been good friends, all now departed to Pharasma, who she had shared the trials of nature and their quest with. Now the Green Crows were little more than bodyguard knights who were willing to put up with her flight of fancy.

The contrast turned them from her protectors into reminders of what she had now: followers, not friends. It was no mark against her bodyguards - they were honorable, dutiful, and pure in intention. Alas, they were men and women who had grown up on stories of the Crusader Queen. They looked up to her, and refused to allow her to come to any harm even if it meant recreating why she was so eager for the Knight-Commander’s suggestion in the first place.

One night, she simply could not take it anymore and needed to get away from her escorts. So she found herself walking the lanes of the camp, trying to find a chance to join in with the crowd. If Kitrane was a mask, then Galfrey should use it to be someone else. Who then would Kitrane spend her time with?

Kitrane saw a couple knights from the minor orders sparring - perhaps she could test herself there? It had been some time since she had truly drawn her blade in battle, and it would be good to assess the quality of their forces herself. Yet she hesitated - she was bound to refuse no challenge from an equal, but who here was her equal? And her skill would out herself, even in sparring, as few had the experience that Queen Galfrey had developed over a century of warfare.

So Kitrane turned away from it, finding her way towards the center of camp where the soldiers haggled with the merchants in the baggage train. Perhaps it would do her some good to mingle with them, perhaps see just how much of a trade there was in stones from the Gray Garrison or herne antlers from Estrovian? Yet she could already hear her advisors chiding her about indulging in the sale of false relics, even if everyone knew it and were doing it for fun to take their mind off things or souvenirs for after the campaign. Such did not set an example of commerce serving the public good, and Queen Galfrey could not be seen doing such when so much depending on her as the ideal. An excuse like trying to ‘act the role of a minor knight’ would only insult said knights.

Thus, Kitrane moved towards where the Nerosyan recruits primarily were, especially as she heard boisterous laughter coming from one particularly large campfire. Perhaps in the crowd she could get lost in their numbers as she did at the Defender’s Heart? She was about to mingle through when she recognized the voices - Seelah, telling a story from her journey to Mendev to an eager audience who had only known the kingdom they fought for. Irabeth’s reaction that day returned to her thoughts, and so Queen Galfrey decided to cautiously avoid the risk of exposure as the storyteller would certainly recognize her after that encounter.

Each time she thought she could find some way to reclaim that little piece of Galfrey’s life before she became the Crusader Queen, she felt her feet chill and her spine tingle with fear. Yes, fear: Iomedae’s blessings warded her against compelled fear such as that of magical spells, but it did not mean that she never felt the emotion. Without fear for those under her command, she only needed to look to the example set by Paralictor Derenge at the Reliable Redoubt to see what she would become. Oh how easy it would be, though…

Rounding a corner, Kitrane almost bumped into a young elven woman in rags. Galfrey was surprised to see a beggar in the army camp, even more so one with a crow on her shoulder, but as she had the chance to take in the woman’s features she recognized her. Ember, or at least that was the name they called her.

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t see you there.”

“It’s okay,” Galfrey said quickly, looking away by pretending she was checking to make sure they would not hit anyone else walking up. “I was in my own thoughts.”

“A lot of us are,” Ember said as she also looked around, eventually turning to point towards a halfling cavalier who had buried his head against his knees. “That poor man lost his warhound in the skirmish yesterday. A friend.”

Galfrey nodded grimly. She was no stranger to having mounts killed underneath her in battle - Areelu had once merely done so in the most spectacular fashion. “We all grieve in our own way, Ember.”

“Oh, I thought you looked familiar! Kitrane, right? Elaina’s friend?”

Perhaps the closest thing to a lie she had told this whole campaign. It had made sense to her to say it - it would give the Knight-Commander a reason to visit her tent that would be plausible to any witnesses. And, apparently, it worked on someone who had sat at the same table as her in the Defender’s Heart.

“Yes, Kitrane is what they call me here.” Ember’s crow cawed a few times at Galfrey’s technically truthful answer. Was that bird laughing at her? It was a terrible cover, admittedly.

“Guess we’re all called something, huh? Camellia keeps calling me ‘charred meat’, my dad called me a ray of sunshine, my mother called me some long name when she was mad…”

“Wait, Ember is not your real name?”

The young woman shrugged. “Don’t we all have different names? Surely your mother called you something else too, Kitrane.”

“She did,” Galfrey admitted, a vague fog of memories reaching for her but just out of grasping range. “I am used to being known formally, though.”

“A lot of rules and such. Daeran has so many names, yet he doesn’t like saying them. They make him sad. What about you? Do your names make you sad?”

“Say again?”

“Daeran says he uses all his names for formality, but he is always sad about it. Is it like that for you?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Galfrey admitted. It was not a lie, but she did feel something about it as she sat on her throne in Nerosyan. Placed on a pedestal to inspire Mendev and try to show the rest of Avistan that their defense was worthy of support. Her epithets, her noble name each with meaning, the elixir she took to retain her youth so she could remain on the field only to become too valuable to risk there… 

“I do feel something, though,” she admitted as the thoughts welled up.

“You need to let it out!” Ember insisted, smiling warmly. “The knight was trying to grieve, but one of the black knights’ soldiers tried to force him away. I think she was grieving too, the way she held that rose-decorated shield.”

Queen Galfrey seized on the problem to solve. The description suggested an Armiger, but a rose pattern was not something Hellknights would issue. Noble? Possibly, but such an individual would most likely have earned Hellknight before coming to a place like the Worldwound. Nurah had given her a vivid demonstration of such an example. Which suggested a Shelynite, but why would one join the Hellknights, especially the Godclaw heretics rather than the Order of the Torrent?

“Possibly,” Galfrey said with a light shrug as she brought herself back to the now. “As for letting it out? I do not have the luxury.”

Ember tilted her head. “Why not?”

Because she was a Paladin of Iomedae and Queen of Mendev. Because Mendev had to project strength just to convince Avistan’s nations to give them scraps with which to hold back the Abyss with. Because she had to be the mask to conceal the lengths Heaven had gone to aid them without turning Golarion into an inferno between the planes. Because she had to be strong for everyone else so they could afford to cry. What good would she be as a paladin, a queen, a person, if she let hardship and sorrow to break her spirit? The regal mask had to remain.

“Duty requires that I mask my true thoughts,” she admitted instead. “If I showed what I truly thought, much would be damaged.”

“That sounds… hard. Can’t you let it out in private, Kitrane?”

“I have,” Galfrey admitted, “but in the end it is my burden to shoulder.”

“It always is, Heaven abandoned us,” Ember merely nodded solemnly oblivious to Galfrey’s scowl at the falsehood, “leaving us to fight on our own. We know the demons would eat us, but we keep fighting each other.”

“You do not need to tell me the many problems besetting Mendev. Believe me when I say that few are more aware of that than I am.”

Ember nodded. “Maybe you could help Galfrey, then? She seems so lonely, making loud declarations and trying to give everyone hope without any for herself.”

Gods, this was either someone’s idea of a cruel joke, this woman was trying to needle her, or as Galfrey quickly realized was the most likely answer, she was entirely genuine.

And she was not entirely wrong about her either.

“If only I could help her,” Galfrey said, carefully. And she really needed to step away, especially as that crow was watching her even more closely. “I am just one woman against the Abyss.”

“So am I! Of course, I had help. Grandmother sent Soot to show me some tricks, just like when she was dad’s grandma and grandad’s grandma!”

Galfrey frowned, glancing between Ember and Soot again. A crow, grandmother for generations…

Andoletta, Galfrey realized. Andoletta had watched over this orphan after Iomedae’s followers failed. When she failed to keep order. Was this why Iomedae had-

“Your grandmother is extremely kind, then,” Galfrey said, interrupting her own thoughts. She could feel her resolve failing - she needed to step away. “Excuse me, this is…” she swallowed. “This is bringing up memories I thought buried.” More like thoughts she had tried to bury.

Ember just nodded with a smile. “Good night, Kitrane! Oh, do you want me to let Elaina know?”

“It’s alright, I’m sure the commander has more important things to do.” Galfrey forced a smile on her face as she turned away, striding to the closest way she could to her tent, even if it meant going past the Hellknight encampment and putting up with the sneers of their own sentries.

How had they been reduced to the point where Hellknights who reveled in their cruelty were worth putting up with? Why was this Mendev’s burden to bear besides some token expeditionary forces and castoff undesirables? Why had Iomedae not trusted her with the truth of the Wardstones, leaving her to only suspect the truth for the better half of a century? Had she not been entrusted with the secret of Pulura’s Falls, or had that fallen while she was fighting on in impotent ignorance? 

Hold the line at Mendev: contain the Worldwound until a way to close it is found. That was the objective since the fall of Drezen, since the Hand placed the first Wardstone in Kenabres. An objective they had succeeded at for over sixty years, and all anyone wanted to talk about was how Mendev failed to close the Worldwound. As if it was that easy, just march an army into the Worldwound!

Galfrey exhaled. This was hardly the first night she had spent dwelling on it. It was inescapable, when it was all on her. The Crusader Queen of Mendev. Paladin of Iomedae. This was what she was. What she had to be for the sake of Mendev’s people - for Golarion. Why so much was spent to prolong her life: to ensure that a righteous champion sat on the throne in this time of war, one who had proven herself alongside the likes of Yaniel, Zacharias, or Lariel and Targona in those early campaigns.

Damn it, all she had wanted to do was live up to the obligations of nobility unlike so many of her peers. Where had the ones who believed in their duties gone? Why was it left to her? And why, when Iomedae’s favor seemed to finally return, had it gone to someone else? Was it because she couldn’t get to Kenabres in time? Had she lost Iomedae’s favor somehow? But she still had her powers as a paladin! Then again, Hulrun still has his divinely granted abilities as an inquisitor…

Galfrey’s thoughts were interrupted as the camp erupted into commotion, fires erupting from tents (particularly in the Hellknight encampment), winged beasts swooping down from the cloudy night sky.

The gargoyles had finally come for revenge.

That, at least, she could do something about.

[bittenbyyou]

Inferior Flames (3)

MCU!AU | MCU!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader | MCU!Spider-Man x Stark!Reader

genre: enemies to lovers, angst, slow burn, some comedy

description: Now it was Peter’s turn to keep an eye on you, much to your dismay. 

word count: 6.8k

warnings: betrayal, cussing, arguing, lil bit of fake dating, OC’s background story, spying, fight scene

a/n: Yes, there will be a part 4, darlings! Please reblog and lemme know what you think. It’s highly motivating to all writers and I do read every comment. :)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“Hey kiddo, F.R.I.D.A.Y tells me you missed school. Are you okay?”

“Dad, are you in the middle of a battle?”

The hologram projection glitched when sounds of explosions and distant chaos filled the air. Your father’s face remained focused on you rather than whatever was going on, his armor glinting in the background. 

“It’s fine, I called a timeout,” he said, looking around and assessing the situation. “Why aren’t you at school, Firefly?”

I don’t want to see Peter and a three-headed dragon wants to eat me. 

“I’m overwhelmed with this test coming up. Wanted extra time to study.”

“You sure? You sound a bit off.”

You smiled weakly. “I’m sure, Dad. Focus on the battle.” 

He blasted an enemy beyond the confines of the screen, and the screech sound it let out was dreadful. 

“Alright, kiddo. If you need anything, Happy is around if I'm not available. Don't hesitate to reach out."

“I know, I know. Love you.”

“Love you too. Oh! Has the Spider-ling done anything I should know about?”

“Nope, not at all. I got to study. Bye!”

You ended the call on the control panel, blowing a raspberry to release some tension. Keeping secrets from your father was not on your to-do list, but divulging the truth would unleash a Pandora's box of complications you weren’t quite prepared to face. If Tony Stark couldn’t know, then it was a definite no-go for your mother and Happy.

This was a task that weighed solely on your shoulders, one you couldn’t rely on anyone else to complete. Deep down, you recognized the cliche and absurdity of the situation, the immense pressure you were putting on yourself. But this villain was anything but ordinary. Only you could vanquish it, but that meant risking the only tangible connection to your birth mother—the pearl. 

Rather than studying, you used today to research leads on the three-headed dragon man known as Triroth. This power-hungry demon hailed from your village and had an insatiable appetite for devouring others. The enhancers were nothing more than a cunning ploy to attract formidable challengers, a way to entertain and satiate himself, absorbing their strength and amplifying his own power. 

You were almost certain he had died. But here he was, back from the abyss in some inexplicable fashion. Determination fueled your every step as you mapped out a plan to shake up an old contact who might just hold the key to uncovering the truth.

Meanwhile, Peter’s mind was in a frenzy, unable to focus on anything at school. His gaze was fixated on your empty chair every class, his mind racing a mile a minute at the possibilities. What if you decided to take on the dragon by yourself? What if he captured you? What if, heaven forbid, he already ate you? It was driving him nuts. 

“Peter? Peter. Peter!”

The boy looked up from his lunch tray to see a concerned Ned and MJ. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Are you good?” Ned asked. 

“Yeah, you’ve been a little off,” MJ pointed out. 

“Sorry, I was wondering where [Y/N] was.”

“Ah yeah… choir was a disaster without her.” She looked around the cafeteria as if someone could potentially be eavesdropping before adding on, “The girls can’t sing.”

“I’m sure she’s fine. Maybe she’s sick?” Ned said. 

“I hope so. Maybe I’ll swing by and see how she’s doing.”

MJ had an amused expression on her face. “You know where she lives?”

“Ooh, we should all go together!” Ned suggested. Peter’s eyes widened as he shook his hands in refusal. It’s not like he could take them to the Avengers Compound and reveal that you’re one (or not one). 

“No! Th-That’s not a good idea.”

“Why not? Since when have you and her gotten that close? I don’t even know where she lives,” MJ said, narrowing her eyes in suspicion at Peter. 

“I meant I’ll swing by the internship and see if she’s there.”

“Ah, their little Stark ‘internship~’,” MJ said in a sing-songy voice, air quoting the word “internship” with her fingers. Ned did the same voice and copied her fingers, the two of them laughing at themselves.

“Guys, come on,” Peter said, chuckling at their silly behavior. “It’s a serious internship. Hopefully it’ll soon lead to a real job with them.”

“Oh yeah. Sure,” MJ suddenly drops her smile, staring at him, eyes filled with suspicion. “What are you hiding, Peter?”

He forced a nervous laugh, attempting to mask his anxiety, but it came out slightly strained. “What are you—what are you talking about?”

“She’s been absent for one day,” Ned lifted up 1 finger like he was her partner for a class presentation. “And you’re worried about her. If I didn’t know any better… I’d say you care about her.”

Peter was speechless until Ned interjected with, “No. They’re rivals. Peter just wants to keep tabs on her.”

“Yeah, she told me about that. What, you can’t stand that a girl has a higher position than you in the internship?”

Again, Peter’s lips opened but no sound came out. Suddenly, MJ’s face broke out into a grin. 

“I’m just kidding, I don’t care. I just like seeing you sit there like a gaping fish. Later losers, I gotta go to the restroom.”

As soon as MJ was gone, Ned immediately started rapid-firing questions at Peter. “Dude, did something happen? Did [Y/N] get hurt? Is she captured? She’s captured, isn’t she? I thought you said the mission went well!”

“Stop, stop, she’s fine. But… I upsetted her and I need to apologize for it.”

“What did you do?”

“I’ll tell you later. Lunch is over.”

Once Peter got home, he nonchalantly hung his backpack over the back of a chair. A cloud of smoke greeted him, launching a surprise attack on both his lungs and Aunt May’s, whose culinary experiment failed yet again.

“Hey Peter,” she said from the kitchen. He went over to her to ensure he didn’t need to grab a fire extinguisher. “Meatloaf’s a little…”—she coughed—“burnt. Do you want Thai again?”

Peter chuckled through his cough and nodded. “Yeah, May. Sounds great.”

Aunt May knew her nephew was Spider-Man, their special bond based on a foundation of trust and openness. Peter had confided in her about many aspects of his life as the friendly neighborhood hero—which recently involved you. However, he had kept his most recent mission under wraps, for obvious reasons. 

As soon as she returned with the take-out, her keen intuition immediately picked up that something was wrong.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Aunt May said, setting her chopsticks down. “What’s going on?”

Peter poked at his food mindlessly, racking his brain on the best way to communicate his feelings without giving too much away. “Um… do you remember me telling you about [Y/N]?”

Her eyes lit up with excitement. “Oh yeah. The girl who can breathe fire and took your spot on the Avengers team!” Peter gave her a look. “Sorry. Sore spot, huh? You know, I haven’t met her yet.”

“Well yeah, she’s upset at me right now.”

She leaned back in her dining chair, crossing her arms over another. “Uh huh. Why?”

He set down his chopsticks. “I… made an assumption about her and I was wrong. Completely wrong. And it upset her and I wanted to apologize, but she told me to leave her alone.”

“Was it your jealousy? Did you say something petty? Because I know I taught you better than th—”

“No, May. It was something else. I’m worried about her. I think she’s going to do something dangerous by herself.”

She leaned forward, her elbows finding a cozy spot on the table. “You know, when you became Spider-Man, I worried about you facing danger everyday. But it made me feel better knowing that Mr. Stark was looking out for you. He’s out of town, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then maybe you can be her person. The one that looks out for her. If it’s as dangerous as you say, then she needs help. And who knows? She might forgive you.”

“Thanks May.” He quickly slurped his food, causing him to momentarily choke. May rushed over and started patting his back, trying to dislodge the stubborn bite. He thanked her between coughs, then planted a swift peck on her cheek. With a playful grin, he darted off towards his room where his suit and mask awaited him. 

“Hey Karen.”

“Hi Peter,” the AI replied.

“I need you to track someone. Her name is [Y/N].”

“I’m sorry, Peter. I am unable to process that request.”

“What, why?”

“It is against my protocol.”

Peter’s hands flew to his head, alarmed and bewildered. “Can you give me any information about her?”

“It depends. You do not have authorization for certain information.”

His hands dropped back down to his sides. “Don’t have authorization? Why can’t you… wait a second. Whose authorization do I need?”

“You would need Tony Stark’s authorization.”

“Karen please, I need to find her. She could be in danger. Can you give me her phone number at least?”

“That is one thing I can do. Shall I call her for you?”

“Yes, please!”

He waited patiently for you to pick up but after the second ring, it went straight to voicemail. “It appears she is unable to take your call. Would you like to leave her a message?”

“Yes!” He heard a beep. “Hey, Ember, it’s your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man here. So, uh, listen, if you’re going after dragon man, you gotta let me help you. Please.” There was a moment of silence before he continued, a touch of vulnerability creeping in his voice. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. Stay safe.”

“That was very sweet, Peter.”

“Thanks Karen.”

“Is there anything else I can assist you with?”

“Yes. Call Ned.”

“Peter Parker is calling you.”

“Thanks D.A.W.N. Ignore it.”

“Got it.”

“Is there a chance he can locate me?”

“The chances are low. Your father put strict protocols on anything that would invade your privacy. However, having your phone on means he could potentially track it.”

“Turn it off for now.”

“Got it.”

You had tracked down an old contact at an enormous animal shelter on the east side of town, determined to find some answers. As you approached the facility, the darkened surroundings and the faint glow of the moon added an air of mystery to the scene. Searching for a way in, you scoured the perimeter of the building, checking doors and windows. Eventually, you discovered a slightly ajar maintenance entrance, providing an opportunity to slip inside unnoticed. Carefully, you crept through the narrow opening, ensuring not to disturb anything or set off any alarms.

Once inside, the shelter appeared deserted, its corridors dimly lit by sporadic emergency lights. The smell of animals lingered in the air, making your nose scrunch at the unfamiliarity. As you navigated the hallways, the soft sounds of animals rustling in their enclosures reached your ears. The glow of the overhead lights illuminated the rows of cages that lined the walls. Dogs barked softly, and cats meowed curiously, their presence creating an atmosphere of both serenity and longing.

Continuing your search, you followed the distant sound of feline purring and came upon a room filled with cats of various breeds and sizes. The woman you were seeking was standing before one of the cages, affectionately talking to a small tabby cat and stroking its fur.

“I need information on Triroth,” you said, pointing your spear at the back of her head. The woman’s lips curled into a subtle smile, having not heard her native language in years. 

“Please. Not in front of my kittens. They’re innocent.” 

Only after you lowered your spear and secured it on your back did she bother to turn around. 

“Very well.”

You trailed behind her, weaving through the winding corridors of the building. The array of cats and playful puppies greeted you with excitement as you passed, their wagging tails and joyful barks exuding an air of anticipation. 

Yet, as you left the company of the animals, there was a subtle shift in their behavior. The once-friendly chorus of barks and meows gradually morphed into an unsettling cacophony of growls and hisses. As if they sensed something unbeknownst to you—an unseen presence. 

Your guide was unfazed by the animals’ hostile display, guiding you forward with an unwavering calmness. Finally, you arrived at the grand entrance of the main lobby.

“It’s been years, Ember. You certainly have grown up,” she said, her voice carrying a slight accent. With a dramatic turn, she faced you, a forced smile gracing her lips. “Are you here to kill me?”

“No, Kura. I need to know what Triroth is doing here and where to find him.”

“And if I don’t tell you?”

“I have ways of persuading you,” you said, getting into a fighting stance.

“Tsk. You haven’t changed a bit.”

“Just taking extra precautions. Tell me where he is.”

She scoffed, her lips curling with a mix of disbelief and amusement, yet her eyes portrayed sadness. “That maniac killed my sister. I have no interest in suffering the same fate.”

You snapped your fingers, your helmet vanishing on command to reveal your shocked expression. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t. After he tossed me aside, he went after my sister who foolishly fell in love with him. The bastard then sacrificed her life to regain his powers.”

“What the fuck…”

“Believe me when I say I want nothing to do with him. Now please leave.” With those words, she averted her gaze, indicating her desire for you to depart.

“No please,” you begged, rushing over and placing a hand on her shoulder. She went on the defensive, the air crackling with tension as your actions triggered a fierce hand-to-hand combat. With a blend of grace and determination, you dodged her attacks and striked back with precision and agility. 

Yet Kura’s eyes gleamed with a twisted delight, relishing the challenge that was you, her thirst for battle having not been satiated for a long time. Her every movement exuded a dark elegance, as if she danced with the shadows themselves. Her strikes were ruthless, each blow infused with a raw power that threatened to overwhelm your defenses. 

The clash intensified, the echoes of grunts and exertion reverberating through the room. Kura wasn’t backing down, seeming invigorated by the fierce resistance. As the battle reached its climax, you seized an opportunity and skillfully maneuvered her, pinning Kura against the wall. 

You pressed your spear against her throat, the cold metal creating a stark contrast against the skin. 

“Please,” you whispered, a flicker of sorrow in your voice. “All I want is to stop Triroth and I know you were close to him once before. Anything would help.”

She hesitated as you pressed the tip of the spear closer, grazing the delicate skin of her throat. 

“I spared your life once. You owe me,” you reminded her.

“Fine. But you already know what he wants.”

“The pearl.”

“Precisely. All he’s ever wanted is power and who better to drain the life force of than humans? They’re stupid and in abundance. He won’t stop until you hand the pearl over.”

“Where is he staying?”

“I already said I don’t know!” She mustered all her remaining power and unleashed a desperate counterattack, launching a powerful energy blast that sent you flying backwards. You lifted your body off the ground, letting out a faint “ow” before chasing after Kura, who was trying to escape. It was then you saw a web had been casted around her body, immobilizing her in an intricate pattern of sticky strands. She fell down like a log, wiggling around like a fish out of water. “Get me out of this!”

“Hey Ember.”

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up and you whipped around quickly, spear ready for battle only to see the sight of the iconic red and blue hero, gracefully suspended upside down.

“What the heck, don’t do that!” you yelled, lowering your weapon. 

Peter detached himself from his web and landed on his feet. “Sorry, but I—”

“You aren’t supposed to be here.”

“Well I was in the neighborhood—”

“I don’t want to hear it. “

“And you weren’t at school so—”

“And now I gotta hear it.”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Peering over your shoulder, he caught a glimpse of Kura, seeing the fear in her eyes. “And you’re kinda scaring her…”

With a mischievous grin, you confidently brandished your weapon, savoring the momentary flicker of fear that danced across the arachnid superhero's eyes. However, you decided to lower the spear, loving how easy it was to tease him.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were so great at interrogation. Please, by all means. Go ahead.” You gestured your arms over to Kura, challenging the hero.

“Okay. Should be easy.” He jogged right over and crouched down to her eye level. “Hi, I’m Spider-Man,” he held his hand out for her to shake, only for her to look up at him with a judgemental gaze. “Oh, my bad. You’re webbed up. Sorry about that, but my friend needs information.” 

“We’re not friends,” you corrected. 

Peter pressed a hand against his mouth, mimicking a makeshift wall to shield his voice from you. 

“I guess I’ll have to return the matching best friend bracelets,” he whispered, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Kura let out a chuckle in response before saying something in her native language, smiling brightly at Peter. 

“Hey, I think I’m getting somewhere!” Peter exclaimed. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, placing one hand on your hip.

“She says she’s curious to see how delicious spider flesh is,” you translated. 

The white of Peter’s mask where the eyes were widened significantly as he backed away nervously. You laughed, bending down to Kura’s level. Peter watched as you said some things to her in a foreign language, unable to decipher any part of the conversation. Kura seemed unsure at first, but eventually, she uttered something that brought a grin to your face. In that moment, you and her wore matching smirks and glanced at Spider-Man.

“Ember…?” he stammered, taking cautious steps backward with his hands raised in surrender. You swiftly rose to your feet, wielding your spear with determination. In a swift, controlled motion, you tore through the intricate webs that bound Kura, setting her free. 

“Thanks for the intel, Kura. Have fun.”

With another snap of your fingers, your helmet appeared on your head and you flew out of the shelter at the speed of light. Peter stared at Kura, letting out a nervous laugh to quell the tension he sensed in the air. 

“Hate to leave a lady hanging, it was nice to meet you!” Peter shot a web and attempted to swing his way out when a long, bushy fox tail snaked around his foot. “What the…?!”

Another tail wrapped around Peter’s torso, yanking him to the ground with an earth-shaking crash. Struggling to free himself, he glanced back in astonishment, his eyes widening at the sight before him. Kura had not one, not two, but nine tails fanned around her like a peacock spreading its feathers. 

“Well, well, looks like we've got a real 'fox'-y situation here,” Peter quipped. Kura smirked, clearly enjoying her little game. She launched another tail at his free leg, deftly pulling him closer with a sly grin. “Oh my god! Ember! EMBER YOU CAN’T LEAVE ME, SHE HAS SO MANY TAILS, WHAT THE FUCK, AHHH!”

You were outside the shelter on the rooftop, peering in through the glass ceiling. 

“He’ll be fine,” you told yourself, chuckling afterwards before heading home.

The next morning at school…

“Can we talk?”

“I would rather do literally anything else,” you said, closing your locker shut after pulling out the textbooks you needed for class. You began striding down the bustling hallway at a brisk pace with Peter trailing close by your side.

“You left me with a nine-tailed fox demon!” he hissed, the sound of students chattering providing a convenient cover for your conversation.

“You survived. Kura isn’t a threat. She just likes to play with her food,” you taunted.

“She had nine tails. Nine. All on me. I’m pretty sure I still have fur on my…” He shuddered at the memory. 

“Ew, ew, ew, shut up.”

“I ran out of webs just to tie her up! How could you leave me?”

“Well, she thought you were cute.”

“She did?” A faint blush crept onto his cheeks, and you couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, giving him a knowing look. 

“Stop following me.”

“I was worried about you.”

“Yeah, no. That needs to stop. Go back to hating me.” Peter stole your textbooks from you, effectively stopping you from going further. “Hey!”

He slyly concealed the books behind his back, leaning against a locker to sandwich them and making it even more challenging to reclaim your possessions. When one of your hands got too close, he snatched your wrist with his free hand and pulled you close. Your eyes locked in an intense gaze as you found yourself face to face with him.

"I don't hate you," he whispered gently, his words hanging in the air. You stood there, frozen in place, caught off guard by the unexpected sincerity that resonated in his voice.

“... Maybe you should start.”

“Is there a problem here?” As your gazes shifted, you caught sight of Flash glaring at Peter. “Is Parker bothering you? Dude, let go of her hand.”

With his quick thinking, Peter blurted out, “Why should I? She’s my girlfriend.”

“I’m your what now?”

He went from holding your wrist to enveloping your hand with his own. “Girlfriend. She’s my girlfriend. You got a problem with that?”

Flash responded with a dismissive 'pshhhh' sound, clearly not convinced by Peter's bluff. In that moment, you were left speechless, unable to find the right words to respond. Sensing the tension, Peter quickly sprang into action, guiding you away from Flash with a victorious grin stretching across his face.

“With us dating, it won’t be weird if I’m always around you,” Peter said with a certain gleam in his eyes.

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s not creepy. I swear I’m going to kill you,” you muttered, trying to shake off his grip, but he wouldn’t let up.

“Not before we hunt down that dragon, babe.”

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, sending a wave of butterflies through you. Against all reason, you found yourself allowing him to keep hold of your hand as you walked together, all the way until you reached your classroom. 

“Man, I knew you were hiding something from me. I was going to ask you to be my wingman and it turns out you were your own wingman and now I’m wingless!”

“What?” Peter asked, laughing at his friend’s rambling. Ned slammed his lunch tray down, the milk carton almost toppling over, and took a seat.

“You’re dating [Y/N]!”

“Oh… Oh! Oh, that. Come closer,” Ned leaned in from across the table. “There’s a mission that she’s keeping from me and I need an excuse to be close to her so she’ll let me come,” Peter whispered. 

“Oh~!” Ned said, relieved as he sat back down in his own seat. “I see you, Peter. Nice.”

“I knew you had a thing for him,” a female voice said in the distance. Ned and Peter followed the sound to see you and MJ heading their way. 

“MJ, we’re not dating.”

“That’s not what it looked like. He held your hand to every class, I think that counts as dating~.”

“The boy is obsessed with me, I don’t have the heart to reject him.”

“Oh honey, don’t go down that path. I’ll reject him for you.”

MJ and you sat down, but once she saw you were sitting next to Peter, she raised an eyebrow. “Peter…”

“Yeah?” he said, sipping his chocolate milk. 

“[Y/N]’s not interested in dating you. She’s too nice to say no, so I’m doing it for her.”

“God, MJ,” you covered your face, mortified at her brutally honest nature. Peter draped his arm over your shoulder, pulling you close. He smelled pleasant, like a mixture of calming eucalyptus and gentle florals. 

“Did she tell you that? The truth is she’s too shy to admit she has feelings for me. She was following me at one point.”

“Peter!” you exclaimed, pushing him off you. “Will you shut up?”

He pointed his thumb at you like he was doing the “get a load of this guy” meme.

“Yeah and why wouldn’t she like Peter? He can recite the entire periodic table backwards. What a guy.”

All three of you took a look at Ned, confused as hell. “Thanks Ned.”

He gave him a thumbs up, oblivious to the weird dynamic he created. 

“Okay, you two aren’t telling us something,” MJ deduced. “Come on, Ned. Let’s let the two love birds figure their stuff out.”

The look you gave MJ screamed for her not to leave, but she only smirked in response as Ned got up and followed her, making sure to give Peter another thumbs up. As soon as they were out of earshot, Peter slid his lunch tray out of the way and faced you. 

“What did Kura tell you?” 

“Like I’d tell you,” you said, stabbing your food with your fork aggressively. “I’m imagining this as your face by the way.”

“Yikes. I’m the first victim of the Fork Assassin.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“Tell me.”

You set your utensils down and faced him, wearing an expression of exasperation. “You’re really not going to stop, are you?”

“I want to help you.”

“I don’t want your help.”

“Fine. I’ll just call Mr. Stark and tell him what you’ve been up to.” Your instincts betrayed you, your eyes widening more than you wanted him to see. You tried your best to keep your composure, but he saw right through you. 

“Don’t. He can’t know.”

“Then are you going to tell me?”

You reluctantly nodded. “Fine. But not here. Meet me at the school’s rooftop around midnight. Now, will you stop with the whole fake boyfriend thing and tell MJ and Ned to come back?”

“Sure thing, darling.”

“That’s it!”

You grabbed your fork and Peter shielded his body with hands. “Not the face, not the face!”

You arrived at Midtown High earlier than midnight, wondering if this was a good idea. 

“Hey Early Bird. Or should I say Ember Bird?” a friendly voice said from above. You noticed Spider-Man at the top of the school’s tower, jumping down to get to your level. You got comfortable and sat criss-cross, patting the spot next to you.

“Hi Spidey Bird,” you said, mirroring his lame joke. “Join me.”

Spider-Man took the seat beside you before taking off his mask and revealing his warm smile. He noticed the package of colorful treats in your lap, pointing to them. 

“Are those gummy worms?”

“Yeah. Want some?” you asked, offering him the bag after tearing it open. 

“Sure, thanks,” He popped one in his mouth, chewing with a giddy smile. You threw one up in the air and caught it in your mouth, earning an eye roll from him. “Showoff.”

Once he finished swallowing the sweet gummy, he blew a small raspberry with his lips. “So… are you going to tell me what you know?”

“Yeah, I suppose I have to. Kura told me my pearl can track Triroth’s mystical energy.”

“That’s great! Let’s come up with a plan and take him down.”

“It’s not that simple, Peter. If the pearl ends up in his hands, the consequences could be catastrophic. And… it’s the only memory I have left of my birth mother.”

You hugged your knees tightly, feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders. Peter noticed your distress, shifting out of his criss-cross position. With one knee bent, he leaned back and used his hands to support his body, creating a relaxed yet attentive posture. 

“Do you want to tell me about her and your family?”

“Well, my background is… complicated.”

“I’m willing to listen.” You gave him a grateful smile. “For the whole package of gummy worms.” 

“Ugh.” You threw it at his face and, to your surprise, it actually hit him. 

“Hey!”

“Sorry!” you said, unable to contain your laughter. “I thought your Spidey Sense worked.”

“It does. But not for gummy worms!” He held the treats hostage. “They’re definitely mine now. Now talk.”

You delved into the story of your origins, telling him about how you had come from a tiny village a long ways away from New York. Your parents were remarkable beings bestowed with extraordinary powers. They spoiled you rotten, believing you could do no wrong and letting you get away with just about anything.

However, your mischievous tendencies took a wild turn once you reached ten years old. You couldn’t resist using your powers to play pranks and torment others for your own amusement. Little did you know, your misbehavior caught the attention of the Goddess of Mercy herself. She revoked your powers until you learned how to behave. 

That’s when you learned the hard way about how actions had consequences. With the tables turned, you found yourself defenseless, becoming the target of others teasing and bullying. You suffered a great deal, learning about doing what was right and how to treat others kindly. 

It was during this difficult time in your life that you first encountered Triroth. He stormed into your village, seizing control with an iron grip. Your righteous nature couldn’t stand idly as innocent townsfolk faced his wrath. In a valiant attempt to protect them, you found yourself kidnapped by the wicked demon. He held you hostage, demanding that your mother surrender her precious pearl—a source of great power that fueled her formidable weapon. 

The Goddess of Mercy, ever watchful, returned your powers when least expected, but it was too late. When your parents came to your rescue, they instructed you to save yourself, but you ignored them. If only you had listened to their words and escaped, perhaps they could have emerged victorious instead of worrying about your safety.

Triroth killed your mother, who shielded your body when you decided to fight back. Your father, filled with unwavering bravery, confronted the demon and dragged him to an endless abyss. Yet, in a cruel twist of fate, Triroth pulled your father down along with him, their fates seemingly sealed. 

Both of them died, or so you thought, until now. Triroth had returned and was still fixated on obtaining your mother’s pearl—a relic that could be catastrophic in the wrong hands.

“I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have assumed you two were related.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t know.”

“No, it’s not okay. He’s a monster, he took away your parents and killed innocent people. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through.”

“I’ll be okay once he’s been defeated.”

“I agree. And we can do it together.”

“No, Peter. I have to do this myself.”

“What? That’s stupid.”

“So… I’m stupid?”

“What?” You swore you could actually see the gears in his head turning. “No, not you, um. You’re not stupid, fighting alone is stupid because… it’s not smart…”

“Nice save.”

“It sounded better in my head.” You bumped your shoulder into his in a playful manner, letting him know you weren’t upset.

“Peter, do you know why I’m not an Avenger?” He didn’t say anything and waited for you to continue. “Because I’m scared.”

“What? What do you have to be scared of? You’re powerful. You can defeat him, I know it.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. I’m scared… of dying.”

“Well, that’s normal.”

“No. I’m so terrified of dying that I will choose to save myself over anyone else.”

“What? That’s not true.”

“It is. Why do you think I was so upset that night at the club?”

“Because you didn’t want me to get hurt?”

You shook your head. “Because if it comes down to saving either you or me, I will choose me.”

Peter was rendered speechless at your blunt words. “Whoa, hold on. It doesn’t have to come down to that. We’re in this together.”

His insistent need to do this with you was tiresome, so you got up and walked over to the ledge of the rooftop overlooking the city.

“You don’t get it. I’m not the self-sacrificing type, Peter. I fight for myself. Not for you. Not for the people in this city. I don’t care for anyone but myself.”

Peter rose to his feet and stood near you, casually resting his forearms on the ledge as he stared at your side profile. “You say that, but who would risk their own life to battle a demon?”

“I’m avenging my parents.”

“But if you were scared of dying, you wouldn’t battle Triroth in the first place.”

“I can if I knew I was alone. My parents died because I didn’t save myself, so from now on, that’s what I’m going to do.” You slowly turned to face him, a fierce intensity burning in your gaze. “So don’t get in my way. You’ll just be a burden.”

Despite Peter's patience and understanding of your pain stemming from past mistakes, your words pierced deep, leaving him feeling as though all his efforts on your behalf had been invalidated. 

“You think I’m a burden?” He nodded silently, his lips pursed, and took a few steps back, his hands raised as if he were saying, “Okay, I got the message.”

A wave of guilt washed over you, but instead of speaking up, you remained silent. 

“You wanna know why I saved you at the club?” He clenched his jaw, trying his best to remain composed. With his hands firmly planted on his hips, he bowed his head, contemplating the perfect choice of words.

“I never asked you to,” you remarked. He snapped his head up to stare straight into your soul, eyes ablaze with anger. 

“Because that’s what being Spider-Man is all about. I saved you because I won’t stand by and allow someone to suffer by doing nothing. You’re wanting to go into battle against a demon with no backup.” Frustration washed over him, evident as he ran his hand through his hair, massaging the back of his head with a hint of exasperation. “For someone who’s scared of death, that honestly sounds pretty stupid.”

“So you’re definitely calling me stupid now.”

“Yes! Because you won’t let me help!”

“I don’t need your help!” you exclaimed, placing a hand on your chest. “I never did!”

He took a sharp inhale and closed his eyes to find his happy place, briefly resting his forehead on his hand to collect himself before speaking again. “You’re being so annoying right now.”

“Good, I love being annoying.”

Peter let out a “gah!” sound, holding his face in frustration before walking back towards you. “You’re so stubborn.”

“Another thing we can agree on,” Your heart pounded in your chest, and a cold sweat coated your palms when you realized he wasn’t stopping. You stepped backwards to distance yourself until your back met the unyielding surface of a wall, leaving you with no escape route.

“And you want to know the worst part of all this?” he asked, not breaking eye contact. 

“Do enlighten me.”

“You’re selfish.”

“Yup, sure. Love that for me.” You tried to leave when he extended his arm out, effectively blocking your way. “You know, girls don’t find this as attractive as movies make it out to be. It’s kinda cliche.”

“Will you shut up for one second?”

“You gonna make me?”

“And you wanna talk about cliches.” Unexpectedly, he shot a web at your wrist and you freaked out.

“What the hell, Peter?!”

“What, you expecting a kiss?”

“You wish, webhead. You seriously have a thing for tying up women. Is it your kink or something?”

A flush of pink dashed across his cheek. “S-Say what you want, but you’re going to stand here and listen to me.”

You attempted to pull your wrist free when he added on, “And if you don’t, I’m telling your dad.”

That ceased your attempts of escaping. “... My dad…?”

“Mr. Stark adopted you. Didn’t he?”

“How’d you—”

“Karen told me.” Your perplexed face made him quickly realize he needed to elaborate. “The suit lady.”

“Your AI?”

“Well, she didn’t really tell me, I figured it out.”

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

“When I asked her to find you, she said I didn’t have the authorization to track you. That I needed authorization from Mr. Stark. The only reason she would say that is if he wanted to keep your privacy, well, private. And with what you told me today, everything lines up.”

“Fuck…” you breathed. “Please don’t tell him. I don’t want my dad to worry.”

"You know," Peter remarked, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, "I have to admit, you're really not in the best position to ask for favors. I mean, let's recap, shall we? You pretended to be an Avenger, completely humiliated me in front of everyone, and oh, did I mention you're Iron Man's daughter? Yeah, it's quite the resume you've got there." He crossed his arms, unable to suppress a chuckle as he savored the moment.

“Peter, I swear… if you tell him, I will never forgive you.”

“Tell me why I shouldn’t.”

“I lost one father. I can’t lose another.”

“There. That’s the real you. So selfish.”

“What?”

“You talk about the possibility of losing others. But have you not once considered how he might feel? You’re actively putting yourself in danger behind his back. He wouldn’t want to lose you.” His gaze softened, his voice sincere. “I… wouldn’t want to lose you.”

Your breath caught in your throat as Peter's words washed over you. The anger that had consumed you moments ago dissolved into a bittersweet realization. His concern, his unwavering support, it was all driven by a genuine fear of losing you.

No. You couldn't allow yourself to be vulnerable, to let him see the turmoil brewing within you. It was easier to bury your feelings, to push him away, even if it tore you apart inside.

“You’re a liability.”

“Don’t do this.”

“Stay away from all this. Stay away from me.”

He leaned in closer, gently pressing his forehead against yours. His voice was so broken, barely audible, as he pleaded, “Please don’t push me away.” 

You closed your eyes, fighting back the tears, the ache in your chest matching the ache in your soul. Your mind raced, torn between your desire to protect Peter and the overwhelming weight of your own fears and doubts. You had convinced yourself that pushing him away was the only way to keep him safe, but now, faced with his vulnerability and plea, your resolve wavered.

A tremor passed through your voice as you tried to steady yourself, to keep your emotions in check.

"I have to, Peter," you whispered, your words laced with a mixture of sorrow and determination. He intertwined his fingers with your own, shaking his head. 

“Please don’t go.”

Taking a deep breath, you released his hand, your resolve hardening within you. The weight of your decision hung heavily in the air as you prepared yourself for what had to be done. It pained you to hurt him, but you knew it was the only way to keep him safe.

With a sudden swiftness, you struck at the precise pressure points on his body, rendering him temporarily paralyzed. His eyes widened in shock, a silent plea for understanding and answers. Before he could utter a word, you swiftly pressed another pressure point on his neck, muffling his voice and preventing him from moving.

Guilt flooded your senses, but you knew this was necessary. You had to go alone, to face the danger that lay ahead without burdening him with your choices and risks. It was a sacrifice you were making to protect him, even if it meant breaking his trust.

As Peter's eyes conveyed a mix of pain and betrayal, you couldn't help but offer a heartfelt apology. "I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice heavy with remorse.

With a practiced touch, you ignited a tiny flame on your index finger, using it to burn through the webs that bound your other hand. The strands disintegrated, freeing you from their constraints. Peter's eyes followed the flickering flame, pain etched across his face.

"I have to do this on my own," you explained, your voice tinged with determination. "You'll regain control of your body in a few hours. It's for your own safety."

Before leaving, you carefully donned Peter's mask, shielding his identity from prying eyes. With a heavy heart, you carried him back to his apartment, gently laying him on his bed.

“I can’t lose you too.”

Tagging: @elicheel | @ifilwtmfc​ | 

Thank you for reading and loving my ideas! I really do appreciate every reblog and every hashtag. Feel free to send me an ask if you’d like!

[shadowscrybe]

Rayven's Revenge- Chapter 12

Summary: Rayven is the younger sister of Rhysand in the Night Court. She was banished 64 years ago for the murder of her sister. This is the story of Rayven earning her place in Prythian and finding out what it means to be family. We all know how her story ends...but how did she get there? I don't want to forget the demon princess with bat wings. Do you?

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: canon typical violence

A/N: I LOVE ERIS VANSERRA GUYS IM SORRY (justice for my boy) but I do love to see him bloody ok SUE ME

Rahne winnowed them into the skies over Autumn. She couldn't risk approaching the Forest House, but she needed to be relatively close to reach out for Eris. If he was even here. 

Eris! 

Rahne went another layer of wind below her to listen, but the Vanserra’s would never announce themselves to her. 

Dammit.

Rayven’s boots crunched on the leaves of the autumn court floor. She held the parchment she swiped from Emerie with two words she’d written for Eris and burned it in her palm. 

Even if she couldn't reach his mind here, the fires would deliver her message. The sun was setting and she was due back at court any minute, but she just needed to see his face.  

Come on, she begged the whispers of the winds to sing his safety. 

Leaves crackled behind her. 

“Oh, thank the gods,” she turned expecting Eris, but was met with the face of a beautiful stranger. 

“Who are you?” Her fire roared to life.  

The dark-skinned female tilted her head to the side and made no move to counter. Her tightly curled dark hair spilled over her shoulders. 

“You're Rayven,” she said. 

“And you're dead.” 

She held her palms up. “My name is Jesminda, but my friends call me Jess.” 

“Don't care.”

“Eris is coming,” she said. 

Her fire skidded. This could very well be a trap.  

The stranger’s lips formed a thin line. The flowy lavender of her skirts spread as she sat atop a boulder. She moved with a casual grace so much like...

“You’re one of Lucien’s.”  

She nodded. “I am the one who told him to warn you about Eris. Apparently, you did not listen.”

“Never will. Where is Eris now?” Rahne was not circling her ankles when she looked down for her. She was hovering the air above her head, which usually meant she was pissed. Another Autumn court fae that deceived her senses. 

“He sent me first, he won't have much time. He is expected back for departure.”

“To Spring?” Autumn’s shift was directly after hers, they were going too early.

“To Night,” Jesminda said. “You did not know?”

“You know my name, but not my position in my court? Who are you really?”

“A friend,” she attempted a cordial smile. 

“She doesn't have any of those.”  

Rayven gasped at the bloodied face of her best friend.

“What the fuck-” she braced herself for the rest of the ambush, but he held his hands up. 

All clear, he sent her and collapsed in the dead leaves before she could catch him.  

“I should've come sooner.” Rayven knelt next to her friend and made her own assessment. His cheek was caked in fresh blood from the gash at the cheekbone. His breaths were shaky between broken ribs. For him to look this bad an entire day later, Beron must've salted the wounds, so they'd linger. 

“I will roast him alive,” her flames scorched the vegetation around them. “I will kill him.” 

Jesminda didn't even flinch. 

There was nothing fatal, Rahne reported, but he had to be really hurt because Rahne wiped at his cheek and he let her. 

Beron was perhaps the least deserving highlord out of them all on most days, but this was unacceptable. 

Eris just shook his head and inhaled brokenly. “He can't know about you.”

“He did this to you because of me?” She decided fire wasn't the right option. She was going to take each layer off of his rotting corpse. 

“I knew he’d never believe it was nothing. When I didn't return with a body, he wanted a name.”

“You should've just told him it was me.”

His wild eyes met hers. “Are you crazy? He will kill you.”

“So instead you'll let him kill you? What name did you give him?” 

She tried to wipe the blood off of him but he swiped her hands away. “Don't.” 

“What do I do? Tell me.”

“You leave and never come back.” The blood on his face was thinned by a single tear. “If you come here again he will kill you. I only came to tell you we cannot meet here again. Don't send me messages anymore. You've never met me. I don't know who you are.” 

No, no, no. “I'm not leaving you here. Come with me,” she begged. “I can hide you in Ironcrest.” She was scrambling for a solution, and he knew it. She announced Ironcrest in front of this stranger. If she became an issue she’d roast her too. 

He shook his head. “I told him I caught a lesser scouting the Forest House. They got away, but he said if I returned defeated by a lesser fae unmarked then...” His body shook. “I should've had you hit me harder before you left.” 

Rayven couldn't help her scoff. “Broken nose wasn't enough for you?” 

He winced when the smile he forced pulled on his skin.

“So because you didn't kill someone, he beat you?”

Eris didn't respond. He didn't need to. Beron was the worst father in Prythian. Hers was cruel, but if he ever laid a hand on her it’d be the last of him having hands. 

Eris wasn't in the same position as Rayven. He was the oldest. He had six brothers to protect. Rayven only had herself and Rahne. 

“What's her deal,” her chin jerked to the female fixing her hands on her skirt. Her body language was relaxed, but a spy was always collected. 

“You may have the spymaster, but these woods have eyes. We’re lucky it was Jesminda that saw us.”

“And who can see us now?” She didn't really want his answer.

Jesminda was the one to respond. “These woods have been cleared. It is just us.”

Rahne was certain the area was clear as well, but Autumn and its inhabitants were slippery creatures. 

Rayven snapped her attention to the female. “Full offense, but I don't know or trust you.”

Eris’ cold hand wrapped around hers. “She’s okay,” he coughed. “She told me where to find you.”

“My message went to you?” 

“I think you mean, thank you Jess, for intercepting the obvious message before Beron could.” She was as smart-mouthed as the fox. 

“It was two words?” She was going to hurt that pretty face. 

“Meet now,” she quoted. “The exact day after Eris was punished for a mysterious encounter in the woods. Are you stupid or just that careless?”

Yeah, I’m going to hurt her. 

Before she could slip in her mind and convince her she was burning alive, Eris squeezed her hands. 

“You have to leave and promise to never return.”

Rayven’s heart cracked. “Don't say that to me.” 

He pulled himself upright and readjusted his bloodied tunic. “I’ll be fine,” his eyes didn't meet hers. 

“But I won't,” she cried to her friend. “I can't do this without you.” 

He pulled her into an embrace. She couldn't even wrap her arms around him before he was pulling away. “Go,” he said. 

“Eris.”

“I’ll find a way to see you tomorrow outside of Velaris.”

“I can't come to Autumn, but you can come to Night?” He never made any sense. She was about to give him another bloody nose. 

“He is meeting with Keir in the Hewn City tomorrow afternoon.” Jesminda answered again. 

“You're free to go anytime you’d like,” she bit out to the spy.

“I am free no matter what,” she said. She didn't have the flame, but something in her roared under the surface. “I’ll see you later,” she said to Eris and didn't offer Rayven a parting quip when she receded into a deadend Rahne had already scoped. 

“Why is Beron coming to Night?” 

“I don't know,” he said. “He’s only taking me and my two younger brothers.” 

“I met with the Highlord earlier, he didn't mention any of this.” 

“Keir requested a private audience,” he bristled.

The lord of the Hewn City wanted to meet with the Highlord of the Autumn Court. 

Her blood chilled. Keir was kept at the Court of Nightmares for a reason. 

“We have a very small window before I am missed. I’ll find you tomorrow.”

“Swear it,” she said. 

“I swear it, on my favorite little demon,” he fought the wince of his genuine smile. 

“If you don't, we’ll be right back here tomorrow, you hear me? I’ll march right into the Forest House. That's my swear.”

“Go,” he said again. “Don't come back to Autumn.” 

“Don't tell me what to do,” her threat fell short. She risked a kiss to his cheek and one last squeeze on his icy hands. 

Then Rahne was shooting into the sky, Rayven behind her.

[estrellami-1]

@every-aj-needs-an-angel made “favorite lines from each chapter” posts and I’ve decided to do the same. Let me know if you don’t want to be tagged, lovely! ❤️

Chapter 1

“Ooh, and they’re saying you got your asshole bleached.”

“That one is true,” Alex says through a mouthful of chocolate with sprinkles.

“Thought so,” June says without looking up.

Just. Their sibling relationship is SO perfect. I’m in love.

Given the choice, he’d rather read one of the hundreds of glowing pieces of fan fiction about him on the internet, the up-to-eleven version of himself with devastating charm and unbelievable physical stamina, but June flat out refuses to read those aloud to him, no matter how much he tries to bribe her.

Once again, PEAK sibling behavior. I’m obsessed.

They were seventeen and eighteen and doomed from the start, both convinced they were the smartest person in any room. Alex has since conceded Nora is 100 percent smarter than him and definitely too smart to have ever dated him.

I need a Nora ASAP please. She’s fantastic. The second line has lived in my brain rent-free since I first read it.

“‘Arch nemesis’ implies he’s actually a rival to me on any level and not, you know, a stuck- up product of inbreeding who probably jerks off to photos of himself.”

“Woof.”

“I’m just saying.”

Oh, Alex. You have no idea.

“Ew, you have Garden State on your watch list? Wow, how’s film school in 2005 going?”

“I hate you.”

“Hmm, I know.”

Actual footage of me and my youngest brother istg

Amy, his mother’s favorite Secret Service agent, a former Navy SEAL who is rumored around DC to have killed several men, sits across the aisle. She’s got a bulletproof titanium case of crafting supplies open on the couch next to her and is serenely embroidering flowers onto a napkin. Alex has seen her stab someone in the kneecap with a very similar embroidery needle.

I’m in love with all of this. Amy is who I aspire to be.

“Risk assessment: FSOTUS failing to check himself before he wrecks himself will result in greater than five hundred civilian casualties. Ninety-eight percent probability of Prince Henry looking like a total dreamboat. Seventy- eight percent probability of Alex getting himself banned from the United Kingdom forever.”

“Those are better odds than I expected,” June observes.

Alex laughs, and the plane soars on.

Once again where do I get a Nora. I love her.

“Do either of y’all know what a viscount is?” June is saying, halfway through a cucumber sandwich. “I’ve met like, five of them, and I keep smiling politely as if I know what it means when they say it. Alex, you took comparative international governmental relational things. Whatever. What are they?”

“I think it’s that thing when a vampire creates an army of crazed sex waifs and starts his own ruling body,” he says.

“That sounds right,” Nora says…

“I wish I were a viscount,” June says. “I could have my sex waifs deal with my emails.”

“Are sex waifs good with professional correspondence?” Alex asks.

Nora’s napkin has begun to resemble a bird. “I think it could be an interesting approach. Their emails would be all tragic and wanton.” She tries on a breathless, husky voice. “‘Oh, please, I beg you, take me—take me to lunch to discuss fabric samples, you beast!’”

“Could be weirdly effective,” Alex notes.

“Something is wrong with both of you,” June says gently.

I’m somehow all three of them. I love this exchange SO much.

His face is still infuriatingly symmetrical.

Alex. Buddy. You oblivious fuck.

“Aw, little buddy,” Nora says. She reaches over and pats his hand. “It’s cute how you think everything is about you.”

“It should be, honestly.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Once again I’m in love with Nora.

For a second, all he can think as he stares up at the ceiling while covered in frosting and champagne is that at least Henry’s dance with June won’t be the biggest story to come out of the royal wedding.

His next thought is that his mother is going to murder him in cold blood.

Alex worrying about the important things first.

[sometimes-i-write-4-you]

My specialty - Criminal Minds x reader (hinting to Spencer Reid x Reader)

tag list: @louderfortheback

The coffee store was fuller than usual, as if everyone decided that today they are in the mood for good coffee instead of the usual shitty one they have at their offices. Spencer Reid stood in line, looking around him and scanning the people around him, specifically the man and their arms. Last night, they got a video sent by an Unsub in which you can see a small part of his tattoo for a second. He messed up, he didn't notice his sleeve rolled up when the girl he was holding fought back. He might be digressing, since he was not as careless in the other videos he sent. Spencer suspected the UnSub might have a tattoo there, since in every video so far he fixed the sleeves before his arms were visible to the camera.

"Oh my god, I love your tattoo!" Spencer hears a female voice saying. He immediately looks for the girl who said it, and luckily it's the one right in front of him and he has a clean line to see the tattoo she's talking about. It's higher up on the arm than the one the Unsub has, and it seemed to be a differentstyle, more cartoony. "Thanks" the man says, but the woman continues talking. "It was done by Emily Grace, right? Must be one of her older works, i'd say, 2.5-3 years ago? she only does color now" She says. In her head she continues to explain the tattoo has just enough color to show the beginning of her style change. Emily has done color tattoos exclusively for two years, but started adding small color elements to her works about 3.5 years ago. This one was very colorful, but not enough to be newer, so that means… "yup, I got it done about 3 years ago, 2 years and 10 months to be exact" the man confirms this womans guess. spencer heard the conversation, and an idea snuck up in his head. "Excuse me, Ma'am-" he starts, but she cuts him off. "Ma'am? How old do I look to you, sir?" She says, highlighting the use of the word sir as If it's payback. "I-" Spencer says, confused. She does look about his age, maybe a bit younger. "I'm sorry if I offended you, but I have a question" he gathers a sentence. "Ask away" she smiles. "If you see a part of a tattoo, you think you can recognize the artist, like you just did?" He asks. "Uh, if I know the artist well enough, probably. I've been working in tattoo parlors for a while now, as a secretary, so i know a lot of artists, I spent hours with their flash books by my side and went through them dozens of times" she replies, and Spencer smiles a satisfied smile. He looks her up and down real quick, spotting a name tag on her shirt, "well, (Y/N), how do you feel about helping the FBI?" Spencer says.

she squints her eyes at him. He pulls out his badge, "I am Doctor Reid, I am with the BAU, Behavioral assessment unit, and we really can't continue this conversation farther in here, this is, uh, sensitive information" Spencer says. "Well, Spencer, let me just get my coffee first, okay? Gotta be awake in order to catch the bad guys" (Y/N) says, and smirks at his confused look. "What, think you're the only one who can read names?" She says, and turns her head back to the line, as it is finally her turn.

Spencer and (Y/N) left the coffee shop, each one with his favorite coffee in hand. "I need to be at the parlor in like, 2 hours, I left early to study a bit, but it can wait" (Y/N) says. "Good" Spencer said, "I'll just call my, uh, boss, to clear you and all that technical things". "Do you even have the authority to just… decide I'm a consultant on the investigation now?" (Y/N) asks, walking by her new acquaintance. "They'll listen to me" Spencer said, as the beeping on the other line is replaced by a voice of a man. "Hotch, remember the Tattoo dead end, Garcia didn't manage to find a match?" Spencer says. 

"Yes, Spencer, I remember, it was very disappointing, but why are you bringing this up? We have to look at other angles, this girls life are at risk" Hotch says, but spencer stays calm. "I found this girl, at the coffee shop, she recognized the artist and approximate the time the tattoo was done on this guy who was in line with us, she worked a few tattoo parlors all around, she might be able to at least find the artist, that can help us, right?" Spencer says, and (Y/N) tries to hear the man she assumed is Hotch replying. "I mean, we considered it a dead end, but if you think she can do it, I trust you" Hotch says. "Good, I'm bringing her with me. We'll be there in, I belive, 18 minutes. She's a slow walker" Spencer said. "I am not a slow Walker" (Y/N) corrects him,wanting to give in to the urge to give him a light punch on his shoulder but thinking it might be inappropriate considering the fact they just met, and he is sort-of her boss for the next 2 hours. "just nearly had any coffee" she finishes her sentence. "So, Dr. Reid  am I in?" (Y/N) asks. "You are in" The brown-haired man confirms. (Y/N) chugges the warm brown liquid as if it was beer. She shakes her head, and starts walking, fast. "You were supposed to take a right there" Spencer calls after her, catching up. "Yeah, you really should be the one on the lead" she smiles awkwardly. 

"You made it in less than 18 minutes" a tall, black haired man with the most serious face ever seen says, welcoming Dr. Reid and (Y/N) to the BAU's headquarters. "Yeah, apparently she just needed fuel to walk faster" Spencer said, defending his mistake. "I'm assuming you are Hotch?" She says, and he nods. "Agent Hotch, yes" he says, handing her a string with a tag on it. "This is your clearance, without it security will throw you out if you are not with any of the team" Hotch says, and starts walking. The newly met pair follows him to what appears to be a conference room, and there on the table there is a close up, enhanced photo of the edge of a sleeve, a tattoo peeking from it. (Y/N) sits down in front of it. "Well, this is Alex's work, for sure.This is old-trad. the shading and… this part, right here-" she circles a section with her finger, "-appears to be a tail, a reptile, for sure. He had a phase as a kid, loves tattooing reptiles" (Y/N) says. "Spen- I mean, uh, Doctor Reid, when you guys spoke on the phone, you said Garcua couldn't find a match?" She asks. "Yeah, she's our, uh, tech girl, she ran it through programs trying to compare the visible part to photos of tattoos online-" Spencer said, but (Y/N) cuts him off. Hotch looked at the two interacting, it was weird that someone was thinking as fast as Spencer.

"Alex hates the whole… internet thing, he's an older guy, he had no social media, and all of his records are kept in a binder. Flashes, photos of the tattoos and the client's information" she says, "and I have access to this binder". "Well, what are we waiting for? Get that binder here, now. I'll call JJ to help you two find the tattoo in that binder" Hotch says, and leaves the room to get JJ. (Y/N) nods, and takes out her phone. "Hey, dad, I need your tattoo binder" she says, "like, right now. Can you get it to me? I'll send you an address".

30 minutes later JJ, Spencer and (Y/N) are sitting in the conference room, this time the original shot from the video is on a screen.

"There should be a section of arm tattoos" (Y/N) says, flipping through the binder with slightly shaking hands. If this guy got tattoos by her dad, chances are she met him. Her dad's parlor was the first one she worked at, until he stopped tattooing. She finally found the section. "This binder is as organized as it gets, each section is divided to even more sections, so…" she continues, finally resting her hands on the sides of the table. "Reptile section" Spencer says, looking over her shoulder. She take the first paper out of the nylon it's in and put it against the screen. The tattoos don't line up. She put it back."there are leafs here, I think" JJ says, pointing at the edge of the sleeve. (Y/N) squints her eyes and notice the edges of a green triangle. She flips through the binder, searching for green. The reptile itself was red and black, traditional old-trad style. (Y/N) takes out a few options, Spencer and JJ looking through them and lining the ones with the most similarities with the tattoo of the UnSub, as she heard the team refer to the man in the video. "This looks close enough, isn't it?" JJ says, lining a black and red snake with a few leafs against the screen. "Yeah, it does" Spencer confirms, and takes the paper from JJ hands. "The name on the bottom is Henry Greenway" he puts down the paper on the desk in what will become the pile of possible Unsubs. Every other picture so far didn't seem to fit, and so it was returned to the binder to it's exact spot in the binder. Spencer called Garcia. "Hey, Garcia, I need you to check someone for me, uh, Henry Greenway. Search for, uh, time in the military, a family lost at a young age, minor felonies, possibly…" Spencer talked, and Garcia started looking. Meanwhile, they kept comparing tattoos to find one that matches well. 

“Dr. REid, you said this guy, the Unsub as you refer to him, lost family at a young age?” (Y\N) said, flipping through the pages. Spencer nodded, “uh; yeah; why?” he asked, wondering what goes on in (Y\N)’s head. “I know this guys, well, a lot of them. There’s this one guy my dad tattooed often, Gabriel something… he got a tattoo for the memory of his dad and sister who died on a family trip, they drowned, i think…” she said, as her face changed into a shocked yet proud look. “Try this one, the name, Gabriel Walker… it’s him, i think” she handed Spencer a paper.

"This one lines up pretty much perfectly, don't you think?" Spencer said, holding the picture of a tattoo against the screen. "I think we might got our Unsub, great work here, (Y\N)” JJ said, punching the (H\C) haired women lightly on her shoulder. A phone rang as Spencer grabbed his phone to call Garcia and ask her to search Gabriel instead. "This Henry guy, he is not our Unsub. All the family is alive, has a steady job he is adored in… he did do some time in the military, but no felonies, no nothing" Garcia said,, and so Spencer asks for information on Gabriel Walker. A few minutes pass, and Garcia calls back. "Spencer, this might be our guy… his dad and sister died when he was 10, they drowned on a family vacation to a lake up north, the site closed down after being determined unsafe. Some minor felonies until he joined the army, then no record until six months ago, a bar fight. Guy didn't press charges because he felt bad for the 'poor, drunk guy', and-"Garcia said, her word flow stopping. "Spencer, the date the bar fight happened, it was the anniversary of the day his dad and sister drowned" Garcia said. "He must be our guy then" Spencer declares and hangs up.

“Guess my work here is done” (Y\N) says as she packs up her things. JJ has left the room to get everyone, and Spencer and the impressive women were left alone. “You did great, really. I thought it’s impressive that I remember everything I've ever read but this is something else…” Spencer said. An awkward laugh left (Y\N) mouth and she was almost sad to leave. “Thank you” she said, “I mean, tattoos are my speciality”.

 “Hey, what is it that you study? How about i’ll help you out to say thank you?” Spencer asked. “It’s, uh, well, i didn’t want to say earlier, i’m getting a B.A. in criminology” she answered. “Well than i am more than qualified to help you” Spencer laughed and handed her his business card. She put it in her pocket. “Het, Spencer, Quit the flirting and get to catching” Derek called as he passed by the conference room. “Well, duty calls, but we’ll have a study session some other time” Spencer smiled at her, and left the room with her right behind him. Gideon took her aside, catching up as she’s been to his lectures, and Spencer caught up to Derek.  “I was not flirting” Spencer clarified, “I think” he added, mumbling to himself as Derek laughed.

[demigodforfend]

Twilight of the Demigods: Forfend Edition - Session 30

"Took you all a while to get back here," Howell started. "So what have you all been doing these past several hours?"

"I took some time to do some smithing. New weapons. New armor." It took a short step forward. "More importantly, however, may I cast Remove Curse on you?"

"Why?" Howell paused. "Oh. For the... Yeah, go ahead."

Forfend nodded. It approached and gently touched Howell's shoulder.

Magic coursed from it with a soft orange glow and spread throughout Howell's body. With all the practice it had gotten recently, Forfend recognized Despot Falco's demigod magic immediately. It seized the malignant energy and crushed it out.

Forfend withdrew its oversized hand and tilted its head at Howell.

Howell's one visible eye squinted. He glanced himself over and patted his chest. "That was, ah, that was a bit weird. Is it gone now?"

Forfend nodded. "Feels better?"

Howell shrugged. He shuffled foot to foot. "A bit of warm magic flooded through me, so I guess it feels better." He blinked, touching his chest again. "Unless you're burning me alive from the inside out."

Forfend recoiled at the idea. It vehemently shook its head. "No! No, of course not!"

"Alright, then I think I feel better," he decided.

Forfend nodded quickly.

"You did crafting," Howell restated, gesturing at Forfend. "What about the rest of you guys? Also, who's this one?"

He cocked his head at Vesper, eyeing the purple tiefling and his basket of what was clearly Howell's giant arrows.

Vesper's tail straightened and fluffed up as his whole back went briefly rigid. He seemed to put effort into schooling himself back into a more relaxed position.

The whole display happened with such speed Forfend wondered if anyone else had seen it.

Vesper stared awkwardly at Howell for a moment, then looked to Forfend.

"This is Vesper," Forfend took the hint and introduced the anxious man. "He is a new ally of ours."

"Vesper," Howell tested out the name.

He strode straight to Vesper and stared up into his face, scrutinizing. "What can you do?"

"Well," Vesper almost mumbled. He cleared his throat and spoke with more confidence, "There is the casting of magic. There is the speaking with the dead. And there is the... carrying these." He shuffled the bundle of arrows, causing them to clank against each other.

Speaking with the dead. That was certainly an interesting talent. Befitting of an undertaker, but concerning just the same.

Forfend hoped Vesper wasn't a necromancer.

"It is a pleasure to meet you," Vesper finished.

"Those mine?" Howell asked despite obviously knowing the answer.

"Yes. You want them back?"

Howell drew in a deep breath. He seemed to assess Vesper's posture again. "I can always make more. Besides, you could use them to stab someone with."

"That is a possibility." Vesper reconsidered the arrows in his arms and nodded to himself.

Howell turned to Melzaryn. He gestured over Vesper, but also to Forfend and Kagoshi. "You trust them?"

Melzaryn hummed to himself for a moment before deciding to nod.

"That's good enough for me," Howell said. "I've gone ahead and hired some mercenaries who should be able to turn the tide of battle for us. They're from the Valley of Glass, so they're adept in arcane arts as well as martial combat. They should be able to make do. They're already waiting inside the Teleportation Hub." He folded his arms. "So what's the plan? How are we getting back?"

Forfend looked immediately to Melzaryn.

Melzaryn spread his hands. "I intend to provide some means of magical teleportation. There are a few options and I'm not sure which one we'll need to take yet. One is almost risk free. Another is probably only dangerous to me. The last one could endanger all of us. We'll see."

"How many could each one transport?" Howell asked.

"Depends." Melzaryn smiled his unhelpful, inscrutable smile.

"What exactly are the options?" Howell pressed.

"My mother is searching for a magic item that would be able to get us all there. It would only work once, but it's pretty much a guaranteed safe bet. I could also request the college's help, but I'd have to pay them back somehow. That's the risky part. And the last option is to get help from my sister." Melzaryn grinned again, but he looked decidedly nervous this time.

"Your sister?" Howell schooled his tone firmly into neutral but his expression betrayed his own apprehension even through the wealth of cloth over his face.

"Yeah, I'm sure that she can build something," Melzaryn said. He shrugged. "It just might explode."

"It explodes... or we explode?"

"Now that's the question, isn't it?" Melzaryn giggled, but everyone else took an unsettled half-step back.

"That's also not really an answer," Howell grumbled.

"I'll give you a proper answer just as soon as I have one."

"Great," Howell deadpanned.

"I mean, this one hasn't exploded." Melzaryn gestured to a mechanical snake curled across his shoulders.

The constructed creature moved and acted with all the grace and watchfulness of the flesh and bone animal it was modeled after. Frankly, Forfend was impressed. The machinated rarely emulated the natural so fluidly.

It was curious how Moli could both be so skilled and apparently so dangerous. Maybe she was like Fletch and sometimes let her eccentricity take her further than she should.

Howell watched the metal serpent for a moment. He scratched at the back of his neck. "Have you heard back from anybody yet?"

"Not yet, no," Melzaryn shook his head. "Of course, I also haven't asked Moli yet. That's a bit of a last resort. I'm more or less expecting my mother to contact me when she's ready."

The mechanical snake's head suddenly swiveled toward Melzaryn. Its jaw dropped open.

"Hey, uh, Mel?" Moli asked in a tinny voice that seemed to originate from somewhere within the snake's mouth. "I think Mom wants to talk to you? Here, hold on." Her voice grew more muffled. "Here, Mom, just speak into this."

"Is this working?" someone, presumably Melzaryn's mother, nearly yelled. The tinny, buzzing voice screeched sharply when the volume grew too loud for the speaker. "Hello? Mel? Is this working?"

"It is working," Moli promised. "Just speak into the--"

"Hello?" the speaker squealed painfully loudly as Melzaryn's mother raised her voice even further.

"You don't have to yell!" Moli sounded exasperated. "Just speak into it. You got it."

"Hello, Mel." This time the volume was finally at a level the speaker could properly process.

Apparently unfazed by the uncoordinated back-and-forth, Melzaryn simply replied, "Excellent timing. We were just wondering when and how this would happen."

"Of course, darling," Melzaryn's mother hummed. "I was able to procure a magic item for you from one of the deeper vaults. It's a spell scroll of Teleport, or, well, moreso Teleportation Circle. It should let you Teleport everyone in your group to a location of your choosing."

Melzaryn glanced around the group and mentally counted out everyone who would be returning. "It'll definitely take everyone?"

"It's something of an experimental spell. Very high level. It's almost a mix between the two spells, taking aspects from both. According to the description I've got here, you simply draw the magic circle on the ground using the spell scroll and anyone who'd like to be transported needs to walk through it within six seconds. You need to have your intended location in mind when you draw the circle and you need to be familiar with it. You wouldn't want to appear in the middle of the aether." She giggled. "I'm sure you'll be able to handle it, son."

"Utterly fascinating," Melzaryn nodded once.

"I did have to pull some strings in order to procure it," she said, "but this will do for your use, correct?"

Melzaryn glanced at Howell, a sly smile on his face.

"If it's a circle, it should fit all of us," Howell figured. "Well, the big one may have some trouble." He tilted his head toward Forfend. "But I think it should still work."

Forfend hummed quietly to itself.

"Excellent," Melzaryn nodded again. "That sounds perfect."

"Splendid!" his mother announced. "Absolutely Splendid!" Her voice grew very quiet, distant. "Moli, do you have a way of transporting this to your brother?"

"Yeah, of course. I've got it, Mom," Moli answered. "I'll send another bird. I'll have to make another bird... It'll be fine! Don't worry about it."

"Thank you. Melzaryn, be safe and do arrive home again relatively soon. But most importantly, don't get stabbed. Or, if you do get stabbed, let me know."

Melzaryn sighed. "Trust me, I'm not looking for a third stab wound," he grumbled bitterly.

"Please do be careful," his mother begged.

"I'll do my best," Melzaryn promised.

"Thank you." Her voice grew quiet again. "Moli, how do I turn this off?"

"Don't touch--" Moli cut herself off with a gasp. "Here, just let me, uh--"

The speaker made a loud boop and the snake snapped its mouth closed.

"So does that mean we're just waiting for something?" Howell asked.

"Well, the last time anything bird-related showed up, it was a bit weird," Melzaryn offered. "It bumped into a window, I let it in, and it gave me things. I assume we're waiting for that."

Right on cue, a mechanical bird tumbled to the ground at Melzaryn's feet. It rolled twice, bounced back upright, spread its wings, and shook itself off.

"And that right there is the reason Moli had to rebuild it," Melzaryn noted.

He crouched down and held his hand out.

The bird's head popped forward and craned upward on thin metal scaffolds that ejected from the neck. Once it was eye-level with Melzaryn, its beak dropped open.

"Hello. This is for you," it said in a voice too deep and too monotonous.

Forfend hoped it wasn't that disconcerting when it spoke.

"Caw," the bird added after a moment of thought.

The creature spread its wings again and a panel on its back popped open. A metal grasper thrust from within the compartment beneath, a spell scroll in its clenched metal prongs.

The second Melzaryn's fingers brushed the scroll, the grasper released it.

"Thank you," he told the bird. He turned around to address the group. "Alright, so–"

"On a scale of one to ten," the bird suddenly piped up again, "how would you rate my performance?"

"Right, um..." Melzaryn looked the little creature over.

"That landing was definitely a three," Kagoshi commented.

Melzaryn touched the scuffed, dented stone floor where the bird had landed and nodded his agreement.

"I'm going to have to give you an eight for this one," he decided.

"Understood." The mechanical beast seemed slightly disappointed not to have gotten a perfect score. "Self-destructing."

"Whoa, okay!" Melzaryn rapidly scrambled backwards.

Something inside the mechanical bird exploded, bloating the metal with the barely-contained force. The creature fell into a thousand tiny broken pieces.

Vesper raised an eyebrow at the scene. He plucked a card from the ever-shuffling deck in his hands, frowned at it, and tucked it away again.

Forfend knelt down to inspect the shattered metal. "Why destroy the creature and the material like this?"

It didn't get an answer.

Melzaryn was already busy unrolling the spell scroll and realizing it was much larger than it first appeared. "Oh, this is a big one."

"Why is it a carpet?" Kagoshi grumbled.

"Big writing?" Melzaryn guessed. "I don't want to open it fully up until we're ready to use it."

"Well, now's the time, isn't it?" Howell prodded. "We're on a pretty tight time constraint, aren't we? We're in a hurry. We need to move as fast as we can."

Melzaryn nodded. "That's true."

"Then what are we waiting for?" As soon as the words left Howell's mouth, he straightened up and looked toward the Teleportation Hub.

"Probably the rest of that group you mentioned," Melzaryn teased.

"Right." Howell sheepishly scratched the back of his head. "Let me go get my guys."

With that, he left.

A few minutes later, he returned with a trio of mercenaries dressed very similar to himself. All of them were covered in fabric that would blend easily with the desert sands.

One stark difference, though, was that none of them obscured their faces the way Howell chose to.

Some of them wore bits and pieces of armor sporting metal that was such sharply polished silver that it resembled glass more than anything else.

The mercenaries sized up Forfend and its allies.

Kagoshi returned the sentiment, watching them all with a vaguely hostile air.

Forfend knelt and nodded politely to them.

"So you're the ones that hired us to help kill a despot king, yes?" one of them said, stepping forward slightly. "A bit of regicide?"

"Yes," Kagoshi growled. "Preferably with my bare hands."

The mercenary's eyes lit up. "Ooh, this'll be fun!"

Another mercenary swatted him on the back of the head. "Hey! We're being professional here!"

"Ah, let me have a bit of fun. Anyway, I'm ready to go whenever you are."

"I like this one," Kagoshi said.

The first mercenary grinned uncannily.

"Don't encourage him," the second sighed.

"Why not?" Kagoshi questioned.

"He killed a cat yesterday."

Forfend startled. It looked to Howell, who grimaced, and then to the third mercenary, who maintained the same flat silence he'd held this entire time.

Forfend hissed steam deep and slow.

It seemed they had a quiet mercenary, a serious one, and a crazy one. What a combination.

"Reprehensible," Forfend finally found its voice.

Vesper glared at the unhinged mercenary, his tail swishing swiftly beneath his cloak.

Melzaryn found himself an interesting ceiling tile to observe.

"Alright, well, fuck this guy," Kagoshi changed his mind.

"Like I said: don't encourage him," the serious mercenary reiterated.

"Aw, come on, it was just one little creature," the crazy one complained. "It was stealing our food."

"I gave it that food!" the serious one snapped.

"Semantics!"

Vesper narrowed his eyes. "You know, you are a little creature compared to some and I'm sure you will bleed the same."

"I guarantee it," the crazy one hissed, reveling in the idea. "Can't wait."

Forfend shuddered, humming its disapproval in a low tone.

"Please don't encourage him," the serious one begged.

"That's some serious sadomasochism," Melzaryn noted.

"You have no idea."

Vesper shared a glance with the quiet mercenary and subtly shook his head. He paused a moment and tilted his head. He tilted further, further, until he threatened to knock himself off balance. He stumbled, straightened, and awkwardly cleared his throat.

Forfend cocked its own head at the odd behavior and the quiet mercenary seemed to share its confusion.

Vesper pointedly looked at no one, his ears tilted down and burning red.

"Are you alright?" it asked.

Vesper gestured vaguely at the quiet mercenary. "The... The kit-- The cat."

"What cat?" Kagoshi asked.

Vesper's tail slowed and disappeared beneath his cloak. "Nevermind."

"Alright." Kagoshi shrugged. "You're being weird, but alright."

"No weirder than you."

"That is true," Forfend nodded.

Kagoshi huffed. "What did I do?! I haven't done anything yet!"

"The key word is yet," Howell mumbled.

"The plan is to kill a disgraced king! I plan to do that!" Kagoshi seemed to be trying to get them back on track in his own strange way.

"It will be a fun hobby to pick up," Vesper added.

"Oh yes, regicide!" the unhinged mercenary shouted with almost lustful glee.

"Shut up!" the serious one yelled.

Kagoshi jabbed a finger into the crazy mercenary's chest. "You shut the fuck up before you're next on the list."

The man raised his chin and grinned. "Oh, come on now, we're all on the same side for the moment, aren't we?"

"No," Vesper said immediately.

"Only until Falco's dead," Kagoshi contradicted.

Melzaryn looked over everyone and folded his arms neatly behind his back. "Well, it's going to be a battlefield. A lot will go down and a lot will go unseen. Watch your own backs."

The quiet mercenary looked pointedly at the crazy one and stared daggers.

Forfend wondered if all Howell's mercenaries would be making it back from this, or if one of them would intentionally allow the unhinged one to disappear.

"We're wasting daylight," Howell interjected. "What are we doing? Are we leaving?" He paused and glanced over his little band of mercenaries before looking apologetically back to Melzaryn. "Also, if you're wondering why I got these guys, it's because they're the only ones who'd do this job for only a favor in return. I don't have any money on me right now. It was pretty much all taken."

Melzaryn chuckled. "They'll manage. Probably. Is everyone prepared?"

"As prepared as we are going to be," Forfend hummed. "Unless we would like to discuss a plan first."

"Do any of you guys have one?" Howell asked. "Because I'm going to be completely frank, I have no idea how to fight what we're going to fight."

"Well, in my experience, it's just attack and don't let Falco touch you. Unless you have a way to turn off magic items, that's about all we've got," Melzaryn said.

Howell nodded. "Before we try to come up with anything solid, we should scout the place out first. Try to get the lay of the land."

"Luckily, I don't intend to drop us into the middle of the fight," Melzaryn shared. "So we should be good there."

"Where are you dropping us?"

"There's a resistance outside Cragwall and my staff was imbued with magic there. I should be able to use that as a focus to get us back there." Melzaryn trailed his fingers along the staff and fiddled with its odd spinning chamber.

"Alright. Ready and waiting," Howell reported. He glanced over at his band of mercenaries.

The crazy one nodded eagerly. The quiet one continued to glare at him. The serious one simply nodded.

"Everybody group up close together then," Melzaryn ordered. "I'm not sure exactly how big this thing will be or if it'll activate immediately."

Everyone huddled tightly against each other.

Melzaryn unfurled the scroll in one smooth motion. He crouched down over the enormous thing and read the runes adorning the elaborate magic circle.

"Great." Melzaryn straightened. "Everyone, get into place around the scroll. When I tap my staff to the center, it'll activate and we'll all need to go through it as quickly as we can."

Everyone spread out.

Melzaryn reached out to touch his staff to the circle, but paused. He looked pointedly at the unhinged mercenary who nearly vibrated with anticipation. "A reminder: no stabbing until we tell you to."

The mercenary deflated, pouting. "Okay, fine."

"Most of the Envema members are victims," Forfend added. "Actually, I believe they all are, save Despot Falco himself."

"I wasn't worried about Envema. I'm worried about the genasi we're about to meet," Melzaryn griped.

"I am worried about everyone around this man. He has already murdered a cat.”

"It was stealing food," the man in question whined.

"I gave it to him!" the serious mercenary yelled.

Melzaryn stepped into the circle and touched his staff to it before the argument could progress any further.

Immediately, a beam of pearlescent white magic consumed him.

Kagoshi stepped through right on Melzaryn's heels, his form dissipating as he passed through the magic.

Howell and his band went next.

Forfend turned to Vesper, but he was watching it.

It nodded and stepped into the circle.

White filled its vision like a blanket of snow and a sense of weightlessness whisked it off its feet.

A moment later, all of its considerable bulk came back to it. Uneven ground slipped from beneath its overlarge feet. It fell with a resounding thud.

Ko'Dan rose, pulling himself together out from beneath the group's intruding feet.

"Apologies," Melzaryn yelped as he deftly leapt off Ko'Dan.

Kagoshi managed his own graceful landing.

The quiet mercenary gasped and tumbled onto his rear much like Forfend had.

Howell and the rest of the mercenaries managed to stagger off the rising tower of emerald and stone and vine.

Vesper slipped and scrambled on all fours like a startled animal to flee the huge elemental.

Ko'Dan, startled by their sudden appearance, clasped his fists together and bore down on the first thing he saw.

Unfortunately, that was Forfend.

It didn't flinch. This was their fault for landing on him.

Luckily, Ko'Dan recognized it and halted just short of striking it.

"I am sorry," Forfend hummed, ducking its head.

Ko'Dan stepped back, a rockfall tumbling as he spoke his language. He eyed the lot of them with his featureless gem-and-vine face.

Forfend rose slowly to its feet and dusted itself off. "Again, I apologize. We have returned to help."

The sound of ice cracking and wind howling escaped Ko'Dan as he cocked his head to inspect the gaggle of new additions: Kagoshi, Howell, Vesper, and the three mercenaries.

Vesper's tail bristled, the fur standing like hackles. He looked outwardly calm, but he stood as far from Ko'Dan as he could. He was scared. Terrified, even.

Forfend found itself wondering why. Vesper hadn't responded so severely to meeting it and Ko'Dan was larger, more regal, more imposing than it was, but not by some immeasurable margin.

He only demanded a little more respect and reverence, and it was surely owed to him. He was not a person to be feared by an ally of the genasi.

Ko'Dan made a sound like dust settling after a sandstorm. He looked out over the group of staring genasi and raised one enormous hand as he voiced the clamor of a torrential downpour.

The genasi startled, backing away.

Forfend grimly noted how many of them were injured.

A genasi with rose quartz hair and beach white skin recognized Forfend and Melzaryn. He cautiously approached.

"Oh, the saviors are here!" he said.

Forfend's chest lit up reddish-orange. It wasn't wholly certain how it felt about such a title. There was so much more work to be done before anyone could be considered saved.

"Who are the newcomers?" the genasi questioned. "Are you alright?"

The man's arm was immobilized in a sling, but he was worried for them after they'd only suffered an embarrassing entrance.

"Are you?" it asked, healing magic warming its fingertips. It held back the urge to expend the magic now. The injury was far from fatal and Forfend would need every last drop of divine energy to stop Despot Falco.

"Yes," he nodded. "Though a number of us were injured defending the people, but now you're here to help!"

"To the best of our ability," it hummed.

The genasi looked past Forfend to Ko'dan. "I'm getting a little ahead of myself. Our protector, Ko'dan, was wondering whether or not the new ones here could be trusted."

"Yes," Forfend answered immediately.

"Understood," the genasi smiled.

Forfend suddenly thought better of its statement.

"Well, keep an eye on him." It pointed out the unhinged mercenary.

"Why?" the crazy mercenary whined.

"He killed a cat," Kagoshi supplied.

The genasi man grimaced. He translated to Ko'Dan in the rustle of dry fall leaves.

Ko'Dan visibly recoiled. He stared harshly down at the unstable mercenary.

Howell sighed and dragged a heavy hand down his cloth-covered face. "They were the only ones who'd work for only the promise of a favor."

Ko'Dan rattled like branches in a hurricane and pointed toward the exit.

"He says River and the others are at the entrance to the lair," the genasi translated. "They're keeping an eye out, but as far as we can tell, Envema doesn't know the location of this place."

Forfend nodded once. "Good."

"Time may change that," Kagoshi said, unnecessarily ominous.

"Let us hope not," Forfend hummed.

Ko'Dan rumbled and thundered in much the same way as a volcano.

"Ko'Dan thanks you," the genasi said. "We were able to retrieve Ry'Ha'Dach, though he's slumbering due to his injuries."

Forfend's chest lit up briefly orange. It was glad to know Ry'Ha'Dach was safe, even if he was too wounded to fight. He would see another day. The genasi hadn't lost him.

"Who is that again?" Kagoshi asked.

Forfend hissed a heavy bout of steam. "The dragon. The emerald dragon."

"That the guy that tried to fight King Fuckwit?"

"He did fight Despot Falco, yes." Forfend stared down at Kagoshi, both irritated and concerned by his flippant regard of their draconic friend.

"He didn't exactly win though, did he?" Kagoshi growled.

"Did you?" Vesper snapped.

"Definitively, we did not," Forfend answered.

Kagoshi scoffed, closing in on himself and letting his deep-set rage burrow even further beneath his skin. "No, but I get a second round," he hissed murderously.

Ko'Dan grumbled and rushed and cracked like a tidal wave sweeping through a forest, his broad shoulders squaring as he loomed over Kagoshi.

"I think Ry'Ha'Dach has been through quite enough," Forfend said.

Slowly, Ko'Dan ceased his disastrous-sounding speech and settled back down. He didn't take his baleful gaze off Kagoshi.

Forfend apologized to Ko'Dan for Kagoshi's behavior and turned from the conversation. "I am going to speak with the people who have been fighting out in the city. They will be able to tell us what has been happening."

Ko'Dan nodded. He rumbled as he descended back into a pile of rocks, vines, and gemstones.

Forfend picked out people who held themselves like warriors, who were still trying to keep morale up and the people organized.

Just by the looks of them though, Forfend was quite certain the battle had gone poorly.

Forfend moved through the crowd and offered up the weapons and armor it had made to anyone still abled enough to use them.

Whether the genasi would be fighting again soon or not didn't matter. They needed their damaged gear replaced either way.

It spoke to several of the more seasoned fighters as it made its rounds, until it had a decent understanding of what had occurred in its absence.

Kiyori had valiantly defended the Teleportation Hub, but she'd had to leave her post to retrieve Ry'Ha'Dach. In that interval, many genasi had been severely wounded.

River was among them.

Jewel and Flint were also too wounded to fight.

Despite its inquiries, no one seemed to be certain how Kiyori fared.

Forfend worried for her. She was exceptionally powerful, but still as mortal as itself. It hoped she hadn't been hurt.

Melzaryn popped up at Forfend's side. "We're going to have to speak to the leaders about what happens after all this."

Forfend nodded, humming low in its center. "The whole of the government will need to be restructured. King Maggard Stormrike may take this as a strike upon his kingdom. It may all get worse before it gets better."

Melzaryn smiled his inscrutable smile and made for the exit.

Kagoshi and Vesper were already making their way out with the mercenaries right on their heels.

Forfend decided to follow Melzaryn before they all left it behind.

As they made their way through the caves, trailing a ways behind Vesper and Kagoshi, Forfend noticed there were more and more people crowding every open cavern.

These people were almost all human, with smatterings of elves, gnomes, halflings, and dwarves amongst them. There were almost no genasi here. And there had been only genasi in the last chamber. They were separating themselves from one another.

Despite all being trapped beneath the thumb of the same wretched despot, despite suffering the exact same situation, they held onto their petty prejudices.

Forfend found itself disappointed in Cragwall.

Kagoshi, Vesper, and the mercenaries disappeared through the illusion covering the cave entrance ahead of them.

Melzaryn idled along. He didn't seem to be in any special hurry to catch up with the others.

Forfend felt a touch more rushed and worried, but it tried to maintain the calm it would need in the coming battle.

The world shimmered around it as they finally passed through the illusion themselves.

Melzaryn continued on, unfazed by the oddity of the magics.

Forfend paused to catch its bearings.

It spotted Kiyori kneeling on a tree stump, her sword embedded in the earth by her side and her eyes fixated firmly on the route to Cragwall. She stood sentinel, ever ready.

The best Forfend could tell, she was unharmed.

It hummed to announce its presence.

Kiyori cocked her head slightly in acknowledgement and continued her dead set staring.

Melzaryn eyed her blade as he passed by the unsheathed weapon. He nodded to himself and looked up at Kiyori. "A lot of things are about to start happening very, very quickly," he started. "I think it's best the leading parties speak with each other sooner rather than later about what follows Falco's fall. Who do I need to see?"

Kiyori's gaze never wavered from the woods in front of her. She ripped her blade from the ground, gestured to the cabin with it, and returned it to its place buried in the dirt.

"Understood." Melzaryn turned on his heel and strode into the hideout.

Vesper and Kagoshi already stood outside, but neither of them seemed inclined to enter.

Forfend nodded to them both as it followed Melzaryn.

Immediately, Jewel startled awake and thrust a blade at them. She gasped when she recognized them. Her shortsword quickly rediscovered its sheath as she settled back into her chair by the door.

"Oh, it's you," she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hello," Forfend greeted.

Jewel was heavily bandaged and clearly fighting exhaustion. She needed rest. A lot of it.

"The other two are at the back," she mumbled, sleep already coaxing her eyes closed again.

She shook her head and shot up from her chair. "I'll walk you," she said suddenly.

Forfend nodded. It offered her an arm to hold if she needed assistance.

Jewel frowned at it, but only a few steps down the hallway, she decided to brace her hand against its shoulder after all.

As they rounded the corner at the back of the hideout, Forfend caught sight of River and gasped in a sharp hiss of steam.

He sat in a chair leaned back against the wall and heaved for every breath. His right arm was gone, completely gone. Blood filled the thick bandages around the stub of his shoulder and occasionally dripped onto the floor.

"Oh, good, you've returned," he panted.

Forfend fought the urge to heal him now. He was strong. He'd survive until after Despot Falco had been dealt with.

Forfend was going to need every last resource it had available to defeat the rampaging demigod. It couldn't heal River and the rest of the genasi yet. It would, it promised itself, but not yet.

"We have brought allies," it hummed.

"They are outside?"

Forfend nodded.

"Good." River groaned as he tried to sit up straighter. He grasped at his side just beneath his wound and slumped back down.

Flint knelt at River's side, grimacing at his grievous wound.

Out of all of them, he looked the least injured, but he was not unharmed.

The onyx crystals atop his head were cracked and the side of his face was bandaged. His eyes seemed to struggle to focus. He looked unsteady on his feet, dizzy, nauseous.

"What can you tell us about what has happened in Cragwall?" Forfend hummed. "What happened after we left?"

"The battle was hard fought," River answered. "Once you and the refugees escaped, he had to hold down the Teleportation Hub for as long as we could. Kiyori proved invaluable in that. She essentially held off the entirety of Despot Falco's army all by her lonesome, using the Hub's entrance as a choke point."

River made another attempt to sit up straight and managed it this time, though he had to grit his teeth against his pain.

"Then she charged out into the fray completely alone to retrieve Ry'Ha'Dach. She fought valiantly through the tide of Envema," he continued. "She succeeded, but we took heavy losses while she was away. I lost my arm saving another." He gestured to his blatant injury. "The Envema members seemed to notice my adept arcane practice and targeted me accordingly to cripple it. That proved to be a major blow to our endeavor here."

Flint dropped into his own seat and leaned in to hear the story, despite having lived the details.

River cast him a glance Forfend couldn't read and carried on with his tale, "The Abjurist, Sonya Caddel, and the Hawk Knight, Kendrick Arvad, also proved themselves invaluable. Sonya created countless barriers while Kendrick guarded any gap Kiyori couldn't. It was only due to their combined efforts that we escaped the city alive with as many as we did." River sighed heavily, sinking once again into his chair. "I don't know where they've gone now though."

He shook his head. "As far as I'm aware, the Despot himself is still residing inside his castle preparing gods only know what. I wish we had Ry'Ha'Dach to assist us, but he transformed into a human so Kiyori could carry him and he seems unable to turn back. He's still healing."

Jewel set down a map of Cragwall without being asked.

Immediately, River pointed out key points around the city.

"The entire place is overrun. I can't recommend a full-frontal assault," River said. "If anything, I'd think the best bet would be to sneak into the Mountain Quarter. What you do from there will be up to you."

Forfend hummed long and low and slow.

"The best we can tell, they don't know our whereabouts in the forest. Kiyori, though, she's worried they'll find us. She's been fighting from before you left until only a short while ago. Even now, she's out there standing guard."

Forfend nodded and shared a glance with Melzaryn. The wizard looked mildly impressed, if anything.

It, however, was concerned.

"That is all I know," River concluded.

"We know for certain that Despot Falco's intention is immortality," Forfend offered.

River considered this briefly. "I don't know how he plans to do it, but whatever he's going to try will take place within his castle. That's where he'll be safest and most secure. No interruptions."

"Oh, there's going to be an interruption," Melzaryn spoke with unexpected ferocity.

Despite himself, River almost smiled.

Flint snorted.

Jewel let a ghost of a smirk cross her tired face.

"According to the scouts I've sent out, Falco's children have returned to Cragwall," River shared.

Forfend and Melzaryn both took a moment to ponder this information.

"Concerning," Melzaryn matter-of-factly decided.

"That cannot be good," Forfend seconded. "If they are not on his side willingly, then he has certainly got them under his mind control."

"What is your plan?" River asked, his fingers steepled. "How do we proceed here?"

Forfend looked to Melzaryn.

Melzaryn chewed his lip.

"I'm not sure most of us will be of much use here. But with four demigods, you can surely accomplish something." River glanced toward the hallway. "Are Kagoshi and Kairi outside? I don't recall seeing Kairi with you when you left."

Forfend hissed steam, its core sinking low in its chest. "Kagoshi is outside. Kairi... Kairi did not survive Despot Falco's attack."

River's lips pressed tightly together. He rubbed his face. He looked to them with deep sympathy in his eyes, the sorrow of every loss laying heavy on him. "I see. I'm sorry. May she rest in peace."

Forfend hummed. It muttered a prayer for the departed in celestial.

"Still, the three of you survived and proved yourselves mighty," River offered some hope. "You could alter the course of a nation if you truly wanted to."

That was, Forfend assumed, more or less their intention at this point.

"What's the plan?" River asked again.

"Truthfully, the plan is to sneak in and fight Falco," Melzaryn shrugged. "We don't have enough information to plan beyond that. There is no more strategic-minded idea besides just winging it."

He drew in a deep breath and scratched at the back of his neck. "I think it's going to be more important to talk about what happens after. Once this is all over, things are going to happen very, very fast. I took the liberty of speaking to a sovereign from Harmonia about some potential solutions for everyone. You're about to lose a king. I'd like to cut down on the chaos where I can because the world is... not friendly."

"I understand," River responded grimly.

Melzaryn nodded. "I spoke to my mother about it. Being the son of one of the heads of the Collymore family, I've got some sway. She's willing to help us with these matters."

River paused, the gears in his mind turning as he looked over Melzaryn anew. He swallowed thickly. The gravity of who Melzaryn was settled onto him.

"Oh," he finally said.

"She suggested three possible solutions we can take after Falco's death," Melzaryn carried on as though River, Flint, and Jewel were not all still thoroughly stunned. "Of course, I have my preference and opinion on what's likely to be the best one, however, they're all viable options."

Melzaryn placed his hands on the table, leaning forward to draw all attention to himself. "I think the thing you're probably most worried about is King Maggard taking this as an attack and deciding to oust all of you from his vassal state."

All three genasi nodded.

"Well, the best solution to that is to use the rules and precedents already put into place by the Celestial Summit," Melzaryn explained. "One of the options this affords us is simply to declare war and fight it out with the Howling Plains using the Kuumedian Desert as an ally, but I'm not a huge fan of this one. It's not ideal for you or the Desert. We'll almost certainly win, but there will be a lot of loss and Tyrwedia will end up owing the Kuumedian Desert for our services."

River glanced to Jewel.

Jewel wiped her tired eyes and looked to Flint.

Flint folded his arms on the table to bury his face in them.

They all looked exhausted and well out of their depth.

Forfend also felt like it had only the vaguest notion of what Melzaryn's plan was. The genasi weren't title holders in Tyrwedia. Their power in the Land had been rather effectively stripped from them.

Melzaryn seemed to have a very clear idea on how he intended to seize that power back the second Despot Falco was dead, even if Forfend couldn't parse it.

"Another option could be for a demigod to simply assign themselves as leader of this region." For some reason, Melzaryn was watching Forfend from the corner of his eye. "That would allow them to claim the territory right out from under King Maggard and give the nation autonomy.”

The genasi also each cast a quick peek at Forfend as they considered the option.

It turned away. It may be the only local demigod they had, but it was incredibly far from the leader they needed. Everyone here knew as much, but other demigod options were effectively non-existent.

"The third option is the one I think is best," Melzaryn said. "We can form a council."

River perked up.

"As a member of a high-ranking family from another country, I'll be able to take the role of foreign emissary,” Melzaryn offered. "I won't have any more power or sway than any other member on the council, but I can provide insight and advice. You could also place Forfend on the council, since it seems he has very strong morals. Ideally, he'll play the role of tiebreaker when necessary, instead of having total control over the decisions that get made. He can bring the staying power we'll need, as the local demigod. I'd prefer my own demigod status not be disclosed, but Forfend's probably should be to give us the most possible credibility."

River rubbed his chin, his head tilting. "Maybe. If there's anyone we'd consider to be sovereign, it's Ry'Ha'Dach."

Forfend nodded its agreement. Ry'Ha'Dach was certainly more of a dependable, experienced leader than Forfend. Tiebreaking for a council didn't sound as difficult or terrifying as controlling a nation on its own, but it still wasn't sure it liked the idea of wielding that much power.

That said, the colonizers of Tyrwedia would never accept Ry'Ha'Dach as their ruler. Forfend may have an easier time in that regard.

Melzaryn opened his mouth to continue the discussion, but Forfend felt dizzied by the whole situation.

It politely ducked its head. "I will leave you to discuss while I check on our allies," it excused itself.

Forfend left as quickly as it could without drawing more attention to itself.

Outside, it found Vesper standing by the door.

"May I ask a question?"

Vesper nodded affirmatively. "You certainly may ask."

"Do you have any ideas for a plan? No one else seems to, I certainly do not, and I am concerned."

Vesper cocked his head. "Step one: place Howell at a distance because that's how he fights best. Step two: place someone in between him and Falco. I'll volunteer. I have a skill that sometimes causes people to flee from me. You should be between me and Falco. Step three: place Melzaryn opposite Howell and just as far away from Falco. Kagoshi will stay between them. Step four: cast Silence and Hold Person on Falco at any cost to prevent him from using his demigod ability. Step five: magically buff Kagoshi as much as possible."

Forfend's chest lit up. "That is brilliant, Vesper. Thank you."

"We should also try to get Falco's equipment off if we can. He'll be much less effective without it," Vesper added.

Forfend hummed thoughtfully.

Howell nodded. "Got it."

"I will tell Melzaryn," Forfend said. It pulled its Sending Stone from its belt rather than risking getting pulled back into the delicate political conversation. It was out of its depth and nervous about the role it may need to play. It had enough on its mind at the moment as it was.

"Melzaryn," it called into the Stone.

"Yes?" came the immediate reply.

It relayed Vesper's plan almost verbatim.

"That is a worthy plan of engagement with the Despot himself," River's voice sprang through the magic connection. "Getting to him will be another matter. You may be able to sneak into the Mountain Quarter, but all the tunnels into Castle Ledrian have been collapsed. There will be no sneaking inside the castle itself. The only real method left is entering directly through the front gate."

Forfend hummed anxiously.

"I'm sure that will be fine," Vesper said.

Kagoshi grunted from somewhere behind Forfend.

"If you do make it into the Mountain Quarter though," River continued, "the defenses were designed to work both ways. You can use that to your advantage. It's difficult to get in, but it's also difficult to get out. They won't be able to mobilize effectively to rally reinforcements. Once you're inside, you should be safe from that threat, though I can't say what others you may face."

Vesper chewed his lip and wandered away from the conversation.

"So what exactly is the fucking plan?” Kagoshi gruffed. It seemed he hadn't been listening.

Forfend actually wasn't certain where he'd milled off to or when he'd come back.

"The outside of the Mountain Quarter is heavily guarded," River informed them. "They're using their sheer numbers as a threat to keep us away, and I must say that it's working. We couldn't possibly handle a deluge of forces like that. Stealth will be paramount in getting past them. The tunnels beneath have all been collapsed, but perhaps you could find another option."

"I might have some suggestions," Melzaryn's voice wafted through the Stone.

"Something I've observed that might be helpful is that most of Falco's puppets are of unsound minds. There are some that seem to possess more free will and more intelligence to go along with it," River continued, "but the more control Falco has, the less functional his puppets seem to be. He has to make things simple for them or they fail to find their way. Hence, the open main gate into the Mountain Quarter, but the closed gate into the castle itself. His most intelligent personnel are being kept close at hand."

"So if we collapse the Mountain Quarter gate, the fodder will be too stupid to find a way into the castle to provide reinforcements," Melzaryn stated. "We won't have to hurt them or worry about them causing problems. We'll only have to deal with whoever's already inside."

"Noted," Forfend hummed. It considered the possibility.

Between the enchantment it had added to its mace, Kagoshi's raw strength, and Melzaryn's propensity for targeted destruction, bringing down the gate should prove fairly easy.

A few minutes passed and Melzaryn exited the hideout. "They showed me a map they made of the destruction in the city. Hell of a maze, but I've memorized us a really good route that should make stealth easy for us. Let's go."

Forfend nodded. It fell into step behind Melzaryn.

Kagoshi followed.

Vesper looked up from conversing with his odd wooden box. "We're leaving?"

He jogged to catch up.

"Seems so," Forfend answered.

Howell and his mercenaries also rushed to join the march to Cragwall.

"Do we have a plan?" Howell asked.

"More or less," Melzaryn shrugged.

"We are sneaking in," Vesper provided. He flipped through his deck of cards over and over again. Forfend thought at first the fiddling was perhaps a nervous habit, but then it sensed the magic in the air.

Occasionally, he nodded or muttered a question as he watched the empty air by his side. He was holding a conversation with someone or something.

Forfend wasn't certain what Vesper was doing, but it hoped the ritual would prove useful for them.

"Do any of you partake in any forms of stealth?" Howell looked doubtfully at Forfend and Kagoshi, suspiciously at Melzaryn, and uncertainly at Vesper.

"I'm very good at going unnoticed," Vesper answered flatly.

Kagoshi cracked his knuckles. "Can't get caught if there's no witnesses."

Howell shook his head, but dropped the subject.

The group made their way through Cragwall's east gate.

The city lay in ruins and all was silent save for the crackling fires. Most of the living denizens escaped with the genasi, and any still remaining kept well hidden.

All of Falco's forces were deeper in the city, protecting him as he prepared his murderous ritual.

Vesper hugged his carved wooden box and watched the unshifting rubble around them with a detached sort of wariness.

Howell ruffled his heavy cloak. He sighed.

A thick, dark mist rolled out from beneath his hood and engulfed the party.

It dissipated as quickly as it came, but it left all their movements muffled into silence. There was no longer a chorus of footsteps on stone. Even Forfend's creaking body stopped announcing its presence.

"Since none of you are any good at stealth, I figured I'd do this to keep us hidden," Howell said, his voice barely a whisper beneath the muffling magic. "It's Pass Without Trace."

Forfend nodded. Kairi had used the same spell for the same reason only a day ago.

Howell's magic had a distinctly different feel in the air than Kairi's had.

Where her arcana had felt bubbly and soft, his felt coarse and sun-warmed.

Howell's magic didn't hold a negative sensation, but the stark difference made Forfend miss their feisty, soft-hearted druid companion.

The group slipped soundlessly through the dead and dying city.

Forfend took stock of the immense damage.

Eamon's house lay in ruins alongside the majority of his neighborhood.

Forfend could only hope he and the other inhabitants had survived and escaped.

Kagoshi paused to stare at a section of road not far from the center of the city.

A space nearly a hundred feet in diameter had been steamrolled flat and every inch was covered in deep red blood.

Forfend recoiled, rocks tumbling in its chest.

Kagoshi only squinted. "I remember leaving corpses."

"You did this?!" Forfend couldn't help the whetstone shing that passed through its chest or the sharp sinking of its core into its midsection. The strong mix of emotions nearly threatened to knock it off its feet.

It knew Kagoshi had rampaged in the aftermath of Kairi's murder, but what sort of excessive, hellish violence was this?!

Kagoshi didn't respond to it.

"Either you mashed them into paste or someone cleaned up your mess," the serious mercenary interjected.

Kagoshi growled.

Forfend clenched its fist. Angry and indignant as it was, there was no time to have this conversation now.

The quiet mercenary grabbed Forfend's shoulder and tugged it down behind a pile of rubble.

Howell motioned for everyone to hush.

A patrol of Envema members marched past.

Two of them were the enormous amalgamations of flesh and metal.

Vesper stared, the fur of his tail standing on end as he watched them pass. He swallowed thickly, but said nothing.

The unhinged mercenary also watched the hulking beasts, though his expression was one of concerning giddiness.

Howell motioned for the group to get moving again.

Melzaryn resumed his place in the lead.

With him navigating, they very soon found themselves sneaking past the horde of Envema outside the Mountain Quarter.

"Good luck," Vesper whispered to Melzaryn the second they crossed through the gate, Guidance magic lacing his words.

He ducked into hiding with Howell and the other mercenaries.

Melzaryn hopped on his broom. "Kagoshi, smash that pillar and, Forfend, you've got the other." He zipped up into the air.

Kagoshi and Forfend both nodded.

They were spotted as they took their places, but it was much too late for that to matter now.

Melzaryn cast Shatter at the top of the arch above the open gate. A large section of stone exploded into dust as the unsupported stone began to collapse downward.

Forfend used what Byr had taught it in all his masonry lessons. It smashed its mace into the weakest spot it could determine.

The destructive magic imbued within Gilthur's Inspiration reverberated through the wall. Cracks shocked like lightning up the pillar.

Kagoshi slammed his fist through the wall of the pillar on the opposite side.

Both shivered, then shook, and suddenly crumbled before the Envema members could scramble through the gate.

The earth shook as all of the rubble tumbled to the ground, piling on top of itself into an impassable wall.

Dust whipped out from beneath the destruction.

Kagoshi was swept off his feet by the buffeting wind.

Forfend braced itself as sharp gravel bounced harmlessly off its stone body, but the rushing air wasn't strong enough to move its weighty body.

The Envema members hollered from the far side of the rubble, but there was nothing they could do to get over the dangerously shifting pile.

Forfend turned. It, Melzaryn, and Kagoshi all rejoined the group.

Kagoshi swore under his breath as he dusted off his dirtied jacket.

Howell whistled. "It wasn't stealthy, but I'll give you that it was kind of impressive."

They left the scene of the collapse and made their way toward Castle Ledrian.

Vesper stopped dead in his tracks in the center of the pathway. He spoke to someone who wasn't there.

"Hello, do you know where King Falco is?"

He stood in silence, his tail swishing thoughtfully.

Forfend assumed he must be conversing with a ghost.

Everyone paused, hovering awkwardly nearby as they observed what looked to be a one-sided conversation.

"What do you know of the renovations?" Vesper questioned.

Further silence.

Vesper tilted his head. "What sort of things would those be?"

No audible response.

"Thank you for your time."

Vesper paused for only a moment, then spoke again, "You are dead."

There was another beat of quiet. Vesper blinked as though surprised.

He shrugged off whatever oddity he'd encountered and looked up at everyone in turn. "My work here is done."

Forfend nodded slowly, though it wasn't sure what had happened.

"He is at the top of the castle," Vesper relayed as they all began moving onward again.

"You got some intuition on that or something?" Kagoshi asked, ever dense.

"No. I know for certain he is at the top."

"Oh." Kagoshi rolled his eyes. "Sure, whatever you say, Fluffy."

"I do believe he has... reinforcements of sorts up there."

"Yeah, I'd imagine so," Kagoshi gruffed.

"It is likely the very big, scary ones though, so take precaution," Vesper said. "You know. Grrah," he growled, poorly mimicking the hulking flesh-and-metal monsters. "The icky ones we have seen strutting about. The flesh monstrosities."

"I'm sure those guys are easy to take care of," Kagoshi decided.

"I disagree," Forfend hummed.

"You only say that because you wouldn't be able to just throw one of them." Kagoshi clenched his fists and flexed his thick muscles.

Forfend shook its broad head.

As they neared the castle gates, they encountered a small caravan of upturned wagons still smoldering as they belched pitch black smoke into the fire-stained sky.

"Wagon," Melzaryn noted, craning his head to see what may lie beyond them.

"Wagon," Forfend concurred.

Vesper cocked his head at them. "Why are you repeating the same word? It's just a bunch of wagons."

"Yeah, why are you guys doing that?" Howell asked.

"It is strange. Seems very repetitive," Vesper noted.

"Thank you!" Kagoshi shouted, throwing his hands into the air. "Somebody gets it!"

"Why does it even matter?" Vesper shook his head in confusion.

No one answered.

Melzaryn huffed, a bit sad his game had ended so soon.

Forfend found itself missing Kairi all over again.

The mercenaries moved forward, taking cover behind the wagons.

Forfend, Melzaryn, and Vesper followed their lead.

Kagoshi, however, didn't seem concerned in the slightest about staying out of sight.

Forfend peered around the edge of the wreckage, hoping the smoke and flames would obscure its form.

A small group of Envema members stood watch.

A cluster of them guarded the gate while another pair manned the barrels of boiling oil stationed along the ramparts above.

This was a very, very small group to be guarding such a critical point.

Pebbles clattered in Forfend's chest as it fretted over the situation. This was too simple, too easy. A trap. It had to be.

Something hazy entered the edge of Forfend's field of vision.

It focused its gaze and stiffened sharply.

Kairi, ghostly pale and translucent, waved to them from off to the side.

Forfend couldn't tell if she was a true spirit or a dark trick, but it couldn't tear its gaze off its fallen friend.

Kairi's glittering wings spread and whisked her around a stack of abandoned supplies tucked close to the wall. She disappeared from view.

Forfend shook its head, uncertain if what it had seen had even been real.

It locked gazes with Melzaryn who simply frowned, his eyes narrowed.

Forfend hummed softly. It seemed he'd seen it.

They silently agreed not to chase the startling entity.

Kagoshi finally ducked behind cover before the Envema guards spotted him.

Forfend motioned to him in an attempt to catch his attention, but he was staring too intently at the space Kairi had ducked into.

"Don't do it," Melzaryn whispered an almost idle warning, as though he was joking or teasing Kagoshi instead of truly trying to ward him off.

Kagoshi paid him no mind. He darted out from hiding and dove behind the huge supply pile Kairi had disappeared behind.

"Wh-- Hey, what the fuck?" Howell whisper-yelled as his cloaking magic fell away from Kagoshi.

Luckily, Kagoshi had been quick and silent enough that the guards hadn't seen him, but Forfend feared what he may be about to encounter.

"Well, he's dead," Melzaryn shrugged. "At least he'll probably soften them up for us."

"What the hell?!" Howell threw his hands up.

The crazy mercenary snickered, but the other two just stared.

Vesper chewed his lip thoughtfully. "Why would he do that?"

Forfend shook its head. It couldn't so much as pretend it understood Kagoshi.

There was silence from Kagoshi's hidden corner for a few seconds too long.

Forfend shuffled as it considered trying to follow Kagoshi.

Vesper stilled it with a hand on its side and a subtle shake of his head.

A chorus of a dozen bloodcurdling screeches ripped through the air.

The Envema members startled, snatching up their weapons and whirling around to face the hidden corner.

"How dare..." came a broken, raspy, struggling cacophony of voices. "How dare you. Should not have let... such fine flesh as this... go to waste. Wasn't she your dear... friend?"

The voices laughed mockingly, wheezing with every strained breath.

"Should not have left... the body behind. How... cruel," the voices admonished and cackled all over again. "Now you can't even give her... a proper burial. Who's fault... is that?"

Forfend squeezed its mace tight in its grip.

Whatever that creature had been, it wasn't Kairi and now it had Kagoshi.

The Envema members weren't prepared for it either. They were acting as though they hadn't known it was there.

They didn't approach. Nervously, they waited to see what would happen.

"You?" the voices asked. "Who found yourself wallowing in rage... and grief? Or me? Who saw... a simple use... for what you... discarded?"

The voices screamed their wailing laughter.

"I'll be sure to torture you before I kill you!" Kagoshi yelled back.

The entire supply stack they hid behind quaked as Kagoshi and the mystery monster clashed.

[eldritcmor]

Fast convo’s

Fast convos between multiple oc’s

@skylordgrey @dxivi

“Seriously, we got paired for this mission?”

“Aw come on, you love working with me.”

“Maybe before you decided to leave for those glory hounds.”

“Come on, ferret. They’re not that bad.”

“ So you didn’t see the giant come and kick me sign they wrote in neon letters.”

“To be fair, I did warn that them there would be major security risk if they wanted to do that tournament of champions thing. I unfortunately got out voted.”

“Also it’s no longer Ferret, it’s Captain Payne, now.”

A whistle and laugh, “Eh you’ll always be ferret to be me.”

A sigh “Fine but if we’re going by old names, I’m calling you Storm.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

—

“So what were you’re plans today?”

“Apparently fight god in Egypt for the nth time. God’s why is there so much blood!”

The rustle of a person shifting fills the mic.

“You ble- Holy shit! How the fuck are you standing right now?”

“Uh most of it’s not mine…I think.”

“Yeah sure. Tell that to, is that a fucking knife in your gut?”

“Oh, it is, that’s new. Guess I got a souvenir after all.”

“Storm! Ah fuck hold still.”

The wet sound of something being extracted from flesh and muttered ow’s fill the air.

”Whisper, you copy?”

“Loud and clear, Ferret.”

“Tell cotton to get ready, once shit for brains and I clear the building we’re heading right for evac.”

“Who’s shit for brains?”

“Who do you think? I’m assuming you came here right on the back of your agency missions without rest or injury assessment again, storm?”

“Yeah. Ow! There’s no need to hit me.”

“Ferret, Cotton says stop battering her patient and get to work.”

“Yeah, yeah. Alright let’s get this shit show started.”

—

“Whisper!Whisper!Whisper!”

“Aren’t you supposed to be heading to debrief, storm.”

“Too wired to still through that. Punch me!”

“No.”

“Please! I wanna fiiiight.”

“Last time Price tore us both a new one.”

“He doesn’t have to know.”

“The answer is still no, storm.”

—

“Are you sure about this? About leaving?”

“Yeah, yeah I am. I don’t think I can keep up with you guys anymore and this way, I’m not completely useless.”

“It is because of what happened?”

“A little bit.”

“Well in case I don’t see you again, it was good working with you Storm.”

“Thanks, Whisper. I’m sure we’ll meet again at some point.”

—

The bouncy notes of Storm’s guitar echoed through the common room. Ferret’s plucking sat just underneath. Their voices joined in duet as Whisper leaned in the doorway.

“I can’t climb Jacob’s ladder

Keep landing on the ground

But hell has an elevator

So just send my body down.

Down.

Down.”

Whisper nodded his head along to the beat as storm’s heel hit table leg below them. A steady thump riding behind the notes of the song.

[frankbelloriley]

I'm voting for Kamala Harris. I had to go through some hoops in order to vote in Texas, and I didn't do all that to either do nothing or vote for a rapist (and I sure as shit know that motherfucker doesn't need my vote in Texas). I'm saying that right out of the jump, so the following words do not get twisted.

Vote scolding doesn't work. Read those four words again, internalize them, then stop fucking doing it. I have neither the privilege nor the snobbery nor the lack of self-awareness to tell those directly affected by this administration's policy and are begging the Harris campaign for a reason to vote for her over the other guy and still being met with silence at best and outright hostility at worst to vote for her. "Oh, but he will be so much worse." Absolutely. And the lesser of two evils is really fucking evil right now, literally "allowing hospitals to be bombed" evil. And then there's the Harris campaign message of complete throwing of immigrants under the bus and catering to xenophobia. I'm old enough to remember the campaign of 2020 when Democrats were like, "Trump's border wall is bad," and now the message is, "Trump's wall sucks because he couldn't get it done"? What the absolute fuck. What the fuck are you talking about? Literally only bad things happen to political parties that decide immigrants can be used as scapegoats. "Slippery slopes" are a logistical fallacy, but that is a big red flag of where the party believes they should head next. That should be enough to lose my vote and sit out the election, and it would be if, well, the other guy wasn't on the other side.

Since I've already shown to be capable of compromising my ideals to push the can further down the road, let's get so cynical right now. The Harris campaign has demonstrated through actions that they care more about Republican moderates votes than leftists votes. They know catering to one will dispel the other, and they believe there are more of the former than the latter. That is their calculation and their risk. Let them fucking take it. If the Harris campaign loses (which I don't think they will, even though their campaign fucking baffles me, because I believe everyone underestimates just how boring Trump is by now to his non-stans and how hated all of his flunkies are. Dude got shot at and got absolutely no sympathy polling bump), it will be because of that assessment. If the leftist voting bloc was so strong in this country that it could affect state elections, then the Harris campaign should have made some minor concessions like, idk, letting a Palestinian-American Democrat from Georgia, now a swing state, speak at the DNC over a Republican because I don't recall a time where any Democrats spoke at the Republican National Convention. And if they're not, as the Harris campaign seemingly believes, then leftists sitting out on the vote does not matter. To say this again for clarity: I am not saying that your vote doesn't matter if you lean left, but I am saying the Harris campaign is sure acting like it. Let them find out.

And all of you vote scolds are vote scolding because you've seen this play out before in 2016, and I ask you this: why the fuck are you fine with the Harris campaign doing 2016 Part 2 of "what are you gonna do, not vote for me?" and why are you doing free fixer PR for dummy consultants getting paid 500 grand?

[chaoticskyy]

The one you mentioned in the notes of your fic? I guess that's about you? Im kinda interested in the other one now too

OH! Okie yeah your right it's about me.

SO. You're gonna need some context about who I am, where I come from, and what that means.

I'm an afro-indigenous person from Guatemala dad's side is the mixed black side, and mom's side is the primarily indigenous side. The region we're from is best described as Texas but worse. I carry a machete in my truck just in case, and every male elder I know wears a cowboy hat.

The mestizaje of the region is pretty through, most people are mixed indigenous with white, and of course, it's Guatemala. Half of us are "wholly" indigenous. I stick out like a sore thumb, not because I'm dark skinned. Black Guatemalans exist but mainly farther north, in Izabal and port regions. I'm fairly light skinned, but I have really curly hair, I'm tall for the region and not to being vain, but I'm really pretty.

Once I hit puberty, I haven't really been allowed to wander around on my own for safety reasons. You see, we live in a region where the organized crime that reigns isn't gangs, it's narcotics trafficking cartels. They usually leave you alone, unless you approach them for whatever reason. Like you want money and are willing to launder for them and things like that.

Narcos have this nasty habit of picking out women they deem attractive and sponsoring them, essentially being their sugar daddies but like Worse. Usually, the sugar baby can get put of the relationship scot-free, but in this case, women are known to be killed.

The fear has always been I catch the eye of one of them, and I have to flee the country for a long while. Or until they relocate. It's a fairly warranted fear, I've been approached by Narcos for dances, drinks, etc. I have been followed even while I've been in a large family group by these men who all clearly have pistols and bodyguards and are driving bulletproof SUVs. I've been saved every time by my family stepping in before I knew something was wrong.

Now that you know all of this info, let's get to the night I nearly got kidnapped! To be extremely clear, I have no idea what their specific intentions were other than that they wanted to take us away from the place we were at.

My mom's Gabapentin prescription had run out during our last trip to Guatemala, so my mom, my aunt, and I decided to head into town from my grandma's village to buy the medicine. My sister and younger cousin begged us to go, but I put my foot down and told them to fuck off because every time they left the house they made us spend more money than planned and the medication was going to be expensive.

Gotta say thank God I was an asshole to them that day.

My mom has some serious brain fog when we got to the 24HR pharmacy, she had tried to hold out and suck up the pain but I backfired on her and she wasn't able to hold out as long as she wanted which meant it was 9pm by the time we had headed into town. So she shoves the money into my hands and tell us to go get it.

We walk up to the pharmacy and wait in line outside. The pharmacy itself had been closed leaving only a tiny window for money and drugs to be exchanged. There's only two people in front of us, and then two men get behind us.

Blue shirt has a pistol on each side and a wicked looking knife on his right. Yellow shirt keeps looking me up and down. He only had one pistol.

It's no biggie. My own mom has a revolver in the car herself. Guns are the norm around here. If you don't have one, you at least have a machete. I hadn't noticed then, but they had purposely placed their truck at an angle, preventing anyone from passing the tiny road.

Then they start talking. Mind you, there are no alarm bells in my mind right now. I'm actually incapable of feeling anxiety while on my medication, not to mention my risk assessment skills are lacking due to the Autism. Yellow shirt does most of the talking, trying to sus out who we are and what we're doing. I don't realize things are wrong until my aunt is shaking with the wallet in her hands when I hand her the money to pay.

To me, the entire conversation was reading unwanted male attention, but still being like the sort of pushy politeness common in Latin cultures. This plus the fact that men especially get whatever they want can make even everyday interactions feel like microaggressions.

They get closer, and I corner myself, hoping that if we look ugly enough, they'll leave us alone. My aunt is panicking and trying to throw them off our scent, and then Yellow locks onto me and says "Your not from around here.". A fact in his eyes. He's wrong, but not entirely, I'm not from town, and I don't live in Guatemala anymore.

I'm just interesting looking to most people.

My aunt interjects, because I'm kinda a bitch to men and at the time I wasn't aware but she was worried I'd get us shot or worse.

This is kinda when I start to realize something is Wrong. My mind starts racing and now I'm fully prepared to piss or shit myself to avoid being raped.

Then my mom comes in and saved the day.

Bless her.

She's this stout pretty looking woman, she's got this habit of being confrontational and kinda a bitch. She managed to save my grandma from getting murdered once, and the woman can take one look at you tell you how much you weigh and give you an estimate of how long it would take her to cut you up butcher style. It's her favorite party trick, and is honestly unnerving. She also has very low self esteem, and when her disabilities flare up even more so. Which makes her swooping in and saving us all the more impressive.

My mom maneuvers the car to get closer and asks us what's taking us so long. Just as it was time for our turn, I go into autopilot and start talking to a pharmacist I can't see. The lucky bastard is hidden behind a bullet proof wall. Just out luck, he has to search for an alternative medication.

Mother is trying to distract them, and figure put what's going to get them to stop bothering us. Blue shirt points out that the car she's driving, a Mercedes-Benz SUV is not a common site. European engines around here are not common, and a car is life and freedom. He starts asking about the car and who my mom is, and who we are. How much she'd sell the car for.

My aunt had purposely been avoiding sharing any identifiers, including my last name. While it does have sway, it's often not enough, and it can backfire since people believe my father's family has lots of money and is a proud bunch.

My mother, on the other hand, introduced herself with her household name. This made Yellow shirt pause, and Blue to stop leering at me. After some needling on both ends of the conversation, it turned out that Yellow shirt and I are distantly related.

This finally allowed me to slip past Blue shirt and into the car.

When we got to my grandma's, started properly freaking out. Turns out my mom was fully ready to give them the car in exchange for our lives.

My aunts husband was fully freaked out because apparently those men are like known criminals. Like deep into being Narcos lakeckeys. They aren't Narcos themselves, but they like orbit the same spaces. According to him.

Also NOTE DO NOT LET THIS DISCOURAGE YOU FROM TRAVELLING IN GAUTEMALA!

I DO NOT GO TO TOURIST ATTRACTIONS OFTEN, I EXIST IN PRIMAILY RURAL RESIDENTIAL AREAS OF A NON TOURIST DEPARTMENT. THE BIGGEST WORRY FOR TOURIST IN TOURIST AREAS ARE PICK POCKETS AND FOOD POSIONING!

BE SAFE!

[shikonstar]

The Cat-astrophe was not the only fiasco.

No. Oh, no.

My house continues in its efforts to kill me or bring me to ruin (honestly neither would be hard.)

The gas company comes out to install a new meter. Easy peasy, should take less than thirty minutes. He comes up to the porch, and lifts his head like a bloodhound. “I smell gas.”

And I’m thinking, ‘congratulations, I’ve been smelling it for almost 3 years, and none of you have cared about it yet.’

So he pulls out his handy little doohickey, and sure enough, there’s a leak. My gas gets turned off (right before we expect a cold snap) and he tells me to contact a plumber. Normally this would send me into a frenzy, knowing this will not be a cheap (read: under $100) fix. Luckily, after much eye rolling and being called paranoid, I had managed to convince my husband to invest in gas line coverage.

Where one problem has made a nest, a second problem decides it might be a nice location.

The next day, after doing a load of laundry, I walk to the washer….and right into a small pond.

I am desperate for this to be dog pee.

It is not dog pee.

After experimentation, I discover that the stock pipe (where the water drains out of the machine) keeps getting backed up. I try to have my dad come and snake it, but the pipe is far too small for what it is meant to do and it has more bends than an inexperienced diver.

Once again, I am depressed but grateful that I also, in my supposedly unfounded paranoia, decided to get water pipe coverage as well.

The contracted plumber arrives to assess whether or not we qualify to have the repairs. Now, my house was built in the early 40s, and it has seen more than its share of abuse. But this means that the crawl space is small. Super small. Like, fetch me a coal-smudged six-year-old street urchin that I can send in there for six-pence.

The plumber is not small.

Luckily, he remembers my house from last years Main Water Line Rupture, so he has brought the company Skinny Guy. Skinny Guy dives under the house like Liquid Dachshund, and starts rooting around.

“Here it is! …Oh. Um. I….Wait, is it supposed to look like this?”

As with doctors, this is not a phrase you want to hear from plumbers.

After pictures being taken and both of them staring in fascinated horror, they inform me that the pipe has sections of illegal plastic.

I have been sitting on a pipe bomb for 3 years.

He goes to check the line shared by the washer and the kitchen sink. There is a veritable knot of plumbing under the house, with so many 90-degree turns that it’s practically a corkscrew. Plumbing, especially drain lines, are supposed to be as straight as possible. The problem is compounded further (because of course) the pipes, instead of being the needed two inch, are 1 and a quarter. They are also the original galvanized pipes, and have almost corroded to the point of being fully blocked.

Luckily, everything qualifies to be covered!

My house takes this as a challenge.

After almost every bit of the gas line under the house is replaced, they find out that the main line also leaks, and it is going to have to be replaced. Lovely. My plumbing turns out to be even more complicated. Part of it isn’t in the crawl space, but jammed on a cement slab.

There is no access.

They are going to have to cut.

But I must have done something right in my life, because they are able to cut a small hole in my kitchen into an area of dead space, and with determination and the flexibility of contortionists, they manage to reach through and connect everything. And I am saved the expense of fixing the wall, because they put in an access hatch. (Smart move, gentlemen. You have seen my disastrous system and you know you’ll be back.)

Now, I shall no longer blow up (at least, my risk has been reduced in one area), and my washer and kitchen sink now connect to the sewer and won’t back up! The tub, bathroom sink, toilet, and bedroom sink on the other hand….those lines will have to be fixed. And my water is still red (today I was given the lovely alternative of black water from the bathroom sink), so those will have to be fixed as well. At least we have a plan for all of that.

Right now, the only immediate problem is an outlet with reversed polarity (and possibly ungrounded). So. Send thoughts that no one gets electrocuted during the repair.

[soulmate-game]

Hawkmoth was a bitch, and Marinette meant that with every fiber of her soul. Fu was also a bitch, and Marinette actually had good memories of the guy. Not many, but she had some. The fact that the guy got two ten-year-olds to become super heroes and fight a supervillain for him kinda soured those memories, though. But with Chat Noir not allowed to leave his house? Yeah, even as young as they were it only took about a year to find out who HawkMoth was and another year to take him down.

Except, that left Marinette alone. The final battle took her mom away, and Chat had to move out of Paris after his dad was arrested. Luckily Jagged allowed her and her papa to move into his house in Gotham, and everything was…

Well, it was okay. For about a month.

Then her dad was gone too, and she had no way to talk to Jagged, and the police were scaring her—

Yeah, that was the basic order of events that led to where she was now. Pushing fourteen years old, ex-superhero, protector of a magical box of gods, stealing the tires off of a very nice motorcycle.

Marinette was tempted to just take the whole thing, she loved bikes and knew she could drive it. But the thing had more security than she knew what to do with, and the fact that it belonged to Red Hood… she didn’t want to deal with trackers today, thanks. So the tires it was.

Should she maybe care more about the fact that she was stealing from a vigilante with a violent streak? Maybe. Did she? Hell no. For all she knew, maybe Red Hood was a bitch too. (Yes, she was still learning English slang. She was fluent by educational standards, but learning how to curse in a foreign language was fun and she still had a little bit to go. Her few street friends were very happy to help).

A shadow dropped down in front of her, and Marinette’s hero instincts kicked in. The tire iron she was using cut through the air, slamming right into the side of Red Hood’s knee.

—*—*—*—*—*

“Hood,” Batman’s voice grumbled over the comms, instantly grabbing the attention of everyone else who was on the comms. It wasn’t as gruff as he usually sounded, in fact it almost sounded like… he was trying not to laugh?

“Did you get gassed by Joker?” Dick asked before Jason got a chance to respond. “Need backup?”

“No,” Batman responded, sounding a little more composed. “Not a rogue. But Hood, I need you to join me at my location as soon as possible.”

Finally getting the chance to talk, Jason responded a little warily; “Sure, B. Wait,” he blinked at the location that was sent to him. “Isn’t that where my bike is parked?”

Batman didn’t respond at first, only the sound of labored breathing— again, as if he was trying not to laugh. “Just get here, Hood.”

Sighing, but not too mad since the night had been fairly quiet so far, Jason decided to humor the old man and head over. When he could see the cape-clad back of Batman, he easily leapt over the last roof and sauntered over.

“Okay, B,” he had his thumbs tucked in his pockets as he drawled. “What’s the issue?”

Batman was grinning. As in, actually showing amusement. And he just pointed down, straight at Hood’s bike.

Jason rolled his eyes under his helmet, turning to look. At first he didn’t see anything amiss, until he saw movement and looked harder. Oh. Oh, holy shit.

“Is that a kid?”

“Yep,” Batman’s grin grew.

“Is she… stealing my tires?” Hood was so, so glad he wore a helmet that hid his expression. Because… wow.

“Yep,” Batman finally lost his composure, chuckling. “This seems like Karma, don’t you think?”

“And you just watched her so you could rub it in,” Jason groaned, throwing his head back in exasperation. Of course he would. Nobody knew it (except the other heroes who knew him) but Batman was a petty little jerk when he wanted to be. He bought the whole Daily Planet just to spite Clark, for crying out loud.

“Don’t adopt her,” Batman said as he stood up, patting Red Hood’s shoulder. “It looks like she’s almost done.”

“Shit,” Jason hissed, looking down to see that she was, actually, very close to being done. She had already had one tire completely free by the time he had arrived, and now she was only seconds away from getting the other one completely free.

He took a quick assessment— she was tiny, and really thin. Definitely a street kid, he thought, though he didn’t recognize her. He knew most of the street kids that stole to get by, nowadays, which meant she must have been fairly new. But even though she seemed to know what she was doing, her small frame made her take longer unscrewing the tires than it normally would have taken. Sure that she wasn’t a threat by any stretch of the imagination, he jumped down. His plan had been to startle her a little by showing up out of nowhere, but he didn’t want to scare her too badly. Just make her jump a little.

But he had underestimated her, it seemed. Without wasting a second, she jumped up and swung her tire iron at his knee. He cursed, she was a lot faster than her had been expecting. He was able to move so that the weapon only clipped the side of his knee, his knee pad thankfully taking the worst of it. She still hit hard enough to make him stumble and hiss in pain though, which was an accomplishment.

That’s when she abandoned her weapon and her tires, darting to try and escape only for Batman to drop down and block her escape. Though really, it was the grin Batman had that scared the girl most of all, apparently, making her slowly back away from him.

“Please stop smiling,” she begged with a faint French accent to her words. “It is not natural.”

That made Red Hood laugh, already recovered and right behind her. He plopped a gloved hand on her head.

“I know, it’s creepy right?” He joked. “What’cha doin’ stealing my tires, kid? I kinda need them to drive anywhere,” he was careful to keep his voice light and devoid of any anger. He wasn’t really upset, all told. It would be hypocritical of him if he was.

She looked between the two vigilantes for a moment, clear intelligence behind those bright blue eyes as she seemed to consider something. Suddenly she pulled away from Red Hood and stepped away from his reach, straightening up and trying to look tall.

“My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she said as firmly as she could. “My father was Tom Dupain, he was killed in a mugging three months ago. We were living in a house that our family friend leant to us after my mother’s death six months ago, and we moved here from Paris. I haven’t been able to contact him, and the police… I don’t trust them,” she admitted, clearly seeing this as the chance she had been waiting for. “I have been living on the streets since my father died. I am sorry for trying to steal your tires, Monsieur Red Hood. But it was a risk I had to take.”

“Did you expect us to catch you?” He asked, crossing his arms as he re-evaluated the girl. She was a lot stronger than he had assumed earlier, both physically and mentally. She seesawed her hand to indicate ‘kinda’.

“Even if you didn’t, I could make good money off your tires,” she justified with a shrug. “To me, I would win either way.”

“Who is your family friend? Can he help you now, take you in?” Batman asked, moving forward and kneeling down to be closer to Marinette’s height. Neither he nor Jason had missed the part where she was an orphan, but they had expected that considering what they had caught her doing. And they both knew that she wasn’t likely to take any apologies they tried to offer very well. It was best not to show pity, or she might get angry.

Marinette frowned. “... Our family friend is Jagged Stone. He lets me call him Uncle Jagged,” she told them, clearly expecting the disbelieving grunts they gave. “I mean it! You can call him, he might even be looking for me! I—“

“We know,” Hood assured her, now kneeling down as well. Man, she was short. “Calm down, we know you’re telling the truth. Jagged has made several public announcements about his missing honorary niece, we just didn’t recognize your name right away. And Jagged doesn’t have access to very many pictures of you, those he does have the Mayor isn’t allowing him to show because that spineless jackass—“

“Language, Hood.”

“—Cares more about keeping bad press off the air than finding a kid, even if it’s a world famous rockstar who’s asking. That’s probably why you haven’t heard anything, the mayor’s keeping it off the radio and not many reporters are brave enough to take the story and get on his bad side.”

“Oh…” Marinette took a deep breath, fighting the tears that were threatening to rise up. “He has been looking…” she sniffled, curling in on herself a little. “Can you take me to him?”

“I think we can do that,” Batman agreed, standing up. “I’ll contact him. Red Hood, can you handle everything here until I give you a place to meet up with Jagged Stone?”

Jason nodded. “No problem, B. Come on, little rabid pixie. Step one of gettin’ you back to your uncle is to help me fix my bike back up.”

Marinette sighed, shoulders dropping. “All my hard work, undone…” she playfully complained. But in the end she didn’t argue or fight against it, she just sat down and helped him reattach his tires.

All the while, Jason’s family kept teasing him over the comms. Clearly they were also thoroughly amused by the cosmic display of karma.

“...Monsieur Hood,” Marinette asked once they were done repairing the motorcycle and he had given her his too-big extra helmet. He tilted his head a bit to show he was listening. She squirmed. “Can… can we stop by my hideout? I have something really important I have to get.”

Jason smiles gently under his mask. She might not have been a street kid for very long, but she really did bring back some memories for him. He got on his bike and held a hand out to her.

“Sure thing kid. Wanna grab something to eat after? Can’t have a reunion on an empty stomach.”

She gave him a lopsided smile— not quite overjoyed, but definitely hopeful and thankful. Maybe this was the end of her streak of bad luck, she could only hope.

“Only if you don’t mind, Monsieur Hood,” she agreed before taking his hand and letting him help her onto the bike.

“No skin off my back, pixie,” he assured her. Then they were off. He followed her directions until they got to an abandoned building about three miles away, not in a good part of town at all but at least not in crime alley. Marinette easily led him through the building, skirting around other piles of ratty blankets and up broken stairs until they got to the badly-maintained top floor. She led him over to an almost invisible door in the concrete wall that pulled out to reveal what was probably a broom closet once upon a time. It was crowded with what looked like junk and empty boxes, along with a few blankets and two or three changes of clothes that were clearly her’s. A few belongings scattered around— a book, a small pink purse, and… Marinette came out of the pile of mess holding what had clearly been a very carefully hidden box. She also grabbed the purse and slung it over her shoulder, but didn’t seem worried about anything else.

Jason frowned at the box. It wasn’t that big, but it was clearly made of old wood. There were intricate carvings that were painted pink, in a symbol that was itching at the back of his mind. He recognized that symbol, but from where?

“Ready to go, kid?” He asked as he thought about it, getting a nod from Marinette. Twenty minutes later they were at a Batburger, sitting in a shaded booth that couldn’t be seen from the street.

She never let the box out of her sight. She kept it on the seat next to her, and Jason noticed that she tried to keep one hand on it at all times. But when she spoke, now her French accent stood out to him even more than before. But why—?

And then it clicked. Paris. Hawkmoth. Ladybug, Chat Noir, magic artifacts called Miraculous. Wonder Woman had raised a fuss when the heroes disappeared, declaring that something was wrong but she couldn’t put her finger on what. Then the magic users they trusted were called in, and returned from Paris with the grim news that the former Guardian of those artifacts had activated a failsafe and passed the guardianship on to someone else while erasing his own memories at the same time. But nobody knew who he could have passed it on to, so Batman had been given the green light to do all the research he and his team could into the Miraculous box to try and help track it down.

And here it was. The carvings were in pink now, which might have been the “cosmetic change” that Constantine had mentioned might happen when the box changed guardians. He had found the box full of super powerful magical artifacts… in the hands of a newly orphaned street kid who couldn’t have been older than fourteen at best.

What the hell?

“...” Red hood reached into his pocket and pulled out an old receipt and a sharpie. He scrawled on the back of the receipt and handed to Marinette. The girl was halfway into a bite of her burger when he did, and blinked at him owlishly before swallowing and cautiously reaching out to grab it. She frowned at the numbers scrawled there.

“What’s this?” She asked.

“My contact info,” he explained. “I won’t ask questions about why you have that box,” he watched her instantly stiffen but continued as casually as he could; “but it doesn’t matter. You can call me if you ever need help with anything, kid. Help with that box, help if you get in trouble in Gotham again, or even if you’re having a bad day. You can call me for whatever, got it? I don’t care if you think it’s stupid, if you can’t talk to anyone else in your life you can always call or text me and I’ll do whatever I can. Got it?”

“...” Marinette sniffled for a second and looked down at the table in silence for a second. “... what if I want your motorcycle?” she joked, but the watery tone of her voice gave her away.

Jason laughed, patting her head. “I need my bike, but we can talk about getting you your own once you are old enough to get a license. You almost done? Bats says that Jagged is ready to meet you, I can take you to him right now.”

“Yeah, lets go!” she was newly energized and shoved the last bite of burger into her mouth greedily. “And Red Hood?” She asked as they headed out to where he had parked.

“Yeah, kid?”

“Thanks.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Permanent tag list (I remembered it this time!)

@rosalineandrosemary @neakco @justanotherfanficlovinbitch @trippingovermyfeet @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @bigpicklebananatree @fantasylover-92 @prongs-flowers @jumpingjoy82 @prettylittlebutterflie @queenz-z @literaryhiraeth @waffelyunsure @deathssilentapproach-blog @waiting247 @theirlmikan @unoriginalmess

[tavvattales]

helloooo can i request a fluff lof y/n taking care of their injuries after some long fight? with childe, xiao and diluc 😊 thank youuu

Oh my goodness, yes of course! <3

And if I may be bold to say, you're my first ever ask! Thank you so much for enjoying my work. I hope you enjoy these stories I wrote especially for you! 😊😊

---------------------------------------------------'--

GENSHIN IMPACT Character x gn reader fluff stories~♡♡

Scenario: Cleaning up their wounds

Characters: Childe/Tartaglia, Xiao, Diluc(seperate)

Pairings: Childe/Tartaglia x gn reader, Xiao x gn reader, Diluc x gn reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood and injuries, minor swearing

SFW----> Lots of fluff down below. Click at your own risk. ;)

Childe/Tartaglia:

● He's a skilled fighter, he wouldn't be a Harbinger if he wasn't, so very rarely would he come to you with a wound. When he does he's always embarrassed, but he'll come to you because you never pass judgment, instead your eyes are filled with worry and love.

● He loves how gentle you are when you tend to him. The way he looks at you when you clean him up and the way you smile at him, telling him how glad you are it wasn't anything serious. He knows how much you love him and it makes him fall even harder for you. Every. Single. Time.

A loud, rapid knock to your door startled you awake. Groggily you stumbled out of bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes wondering who it could be at this time of night. As you reach the door, you peer through the peep hole. Surprised, you open the door.

A Fatui agent stood there, bowing to you. Immediately you knew what was wrong before the man could have a chance to speak, "Where is he? How bad is it?" You asked, rushed, already putting your coat on over your sleeping garments.

"He's at the Northlander Bank. He would have come here himself, but this time it's. . .bad. He's lost a bit of blood," The agent spoke grimly. You felt the lump in your throat rise and you tried to swallow.

"Thank you. ." You manage to say to the man before rushing past him, grabbing the medical supplies in the process. You didn't stop running through the brightly lit streets of Liyue until you arrived at the bank.

Panting and gasping for air you pushed past the two Fatui agents who were guarding the doors. They already knew who you were so they didn't even try to stop you, otherwise you would have had their tounge.

You quickly made your way to his room where a few more agents were attending to him as he lay on his bed, clutching his side with blood soaked rags. Your nose was immediately met with the smell of iron, "Childe! Oh my Archons, what the hell happened?!" You rush to his side, pulling out your medical supplies.

You shooed the remaining agents out of the room so you could focus. "I had a run in with a peculiar traveler named Aether. He put up quite a fight. ." His breathing was heavy and staggered, fading in and out of consciousness.

"I need you to keep talking to me, my love," you say to him gently, trying to stay calm, "I'm going to cut off your shirt so I can better assess your wound, okay?" You swiftly take out your surgical scissors and cut away the crimson soaked fabric clinging to his upper torso.

You gasp, the wound was a large slash across the side of his abdomen. You stifle back tears before meekly saying, "You're going to be okay. I promise. You'll need several stitches, but I'm determined to keep you alive."

He lets out a small laugh before wincing in pain, "I'm lucky to have someone as kind and caring as you, Y/N" Childe weakly reaches over to push a strand of hair behind your ear.

You lean into his hand for a brief moment before replying, "Take this for the pain, and this to help stop the bleeding. Afterwards I'm going to need to disinfect the wound," You hand him two pills and he swallows them quickly, "It's going to hurt, love, so bare with me. ."

You open up a bottle of alcohol and offer your hand to him, "Squeeze my hand," You say to him as you start pouring the alcohol over his wound. He grits his teeth and lets out a pained groan as he squeezes your hand tightly. You work quickly from there, stitching his wound perfectly.

Once you're finished you clean up all the rags and place a clean damp one over his forehead. He's now asleep, getting the much deserved rest he needed. You place a gentle kiss upon his cheek, not leaving his side.

He'll live to see another day, thank the Archons.

Childe/Tartaglia x gn reader END

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

Xiao:

● He also isn't one to get injured so quickly, though when he does you're always quickly by his side no matter how big or small. Even though he's not much for human interaction, he quite enjoys the attention he gets from you.

● He'll always thank you in his own way with odd gifts he made himself. You find it charming. By now you have quite the collection and they're all your most prized possessions.

Today you wanted to travel to Mondstat as you heard there was a festival going on and Xiao offered to accompany you, but only for protection he insisted. He thought human customs were a waste and didn't want to be bothered with them.

The journey to Mondstat would take half a day, and sometimes the roads could be treacherous, so you made sure to pack all of the necessities.

Snacks for the road? Check. Extra water? Check. A med kit? Of course. You triple checked everything and you were about to check it a fourth time when Xiao stopped you and said, "Y/N, you have everything we need. Trust me," He placed a firm, but gentle hand on your shoulder, "Now let's get going before it gets too late. The roads will get dangerous is we wait any longer."

You let out a small sigh and nod, "You're right. Sorry, you know I always gotta make sure everything's in order." You could have sworn you heard him huff and that made you smile. Xiao always had a cold exterior, but you knew a different side to him. He was gentle, kind, always looking out for you. You loved him so much for that. He'd never let anyone but you see this side of him.

Grabbing your sack you sling it over your shoulder and secure it as you both prepare to head out. Xiao was never one for small talk, but you still engaged him in conversation while you two walked. He secretly loved the sound of your voice so he kept you entertained just so he could keep hearing it.

After a few hours of walking both of you had arrived to Stone Gate, you decide it was time for a break. You stretch your arms upwards and arch your back before plopping down on top of a log you had found, patting the spot next to you for Xiao to sit next to you, but he shook his head and continued to stand on guard, "Oh come on, Xiao. We've been walking for hours. It's okay to rest for a bi-"

He quickly raised his hand to stop you from talking and put a finger to his lips before quietly saying, "I sense something evil coming our way," He readied his jade spear before continuing, "I need you to hide someplace safe."

"No way am I going to let you fight on your own!" You retort, getting your sword ready. Determination burned in your eyes as you glanced over to him.

He met your gaze and let out a small sigh, his golden eyes glimmering before giving you a nod, "Fine."

You started hearing rustling from all around you both when it finally clicked that it was an ambush. A charge of at least twenty Hilichurls and three large ones came at the both of you from all sides, "Tck. . Damn. There are more than I expected, " Xiao muttered angrily, knocking back three with his spear in one swift movement, killing them instantly.

You swiftly take out two more, rushing at a third one. You two made a hell of a team. You didn't have a vision, but you were very skilled with the sword and whatever you didn't have, Xiao made up for it creating the perfect synergy between the both of you.

"So much for a peaceful break!" You call out to him as you hacked away a few more, so far you've managed not to get hit. Xiao managed to take out the rest rather quickly.

You rush to his side, noticing a rather long cut across his right cheek, "Xiao, you've been hurt," you said, a frown forming on your lips. He reached up to touch it and he winced slightly.

"I must have been nicked by an arrow, " He muttered, "I'm just glad you're not hurt," He softly took your chin in his hand as he tilted your head gently, side to side.

You blush furiously, avoiding his beautiful gaze, "Let me at least tend to your cut. It's the least I can do" you say, rummaging through your sack taking out the med kit.

Xiao took a seat on the log you were previously sitting on as you kneel in front of him, gently tending his wound. He winces each time you dab it with the disinfectant, but he's grateful to you.

After placing the bandage on his cut, he gingerly takes your hand and places it back on his cheek, nuzzling into it, "Thank you, " He said in a hushed whisper before kissing your hand.

You smile at him and leaned upwards, giving a quick kiss to his bandaged cut, leaving him stunned. "That's to make it heal faster" you say giggling softly at his expression.

He still wasn't used to human customs, but this he could get used to.

Xiao x gn reader END

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

Diluc:

● His work as the Dark Knight hero brings him home with several injuries a week, but you're quick to assist him and most of the time he's careful not to sustain anything too horrible. Though you never fail to scold him for being reckless and to take it easy once in a while.

● He always studies your features as you tend to him, falling in love with you all over again. You're so tender with your touch, careful not to cause him any further harm. He always pulls you into a tight embrace afterwards, grateful to be back in your arms after a long night.

You let out an exasperated sigh as you study the mildly battered Diluc. His bright fiery colored hair, falling in locks in front of his face as he plops down in a chair, leaning his head back. He had several small cuts from what you could tell with the amount of tears on his clothing, "You over did it again, didn't you?" You asked, hands on your hips.

"Mm, perhaps I may have, " Diluc replies back, slowly taking off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt, preparing for you to clean out his cuts and scrapes.

You click your tongue in response to his answer, "You worry me so much, you know that, right?" But you're quick to blush as he slides off his shirt, his perfectly sculpted abs catching the dim light of the room, creating perfect shadows across his skin.

He smirks at you, "I'm aware, but I also love seeing how you care for me after a long night, Y/N," Diluc takes your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips as he gingerly kisses it, glancing up at you with his gentle crimson eyes.

You fidget shyly, meeting his gaze, "O-of course. I'll always support you, but it's okay to give your body a break once in a while too. ." You say, smiling softly wondering what you were gonna do with him.

Diluc lets go of your hand, letting you get to work on cleaning his several small cuts. You're careful not to further hurt him as you dab them clean, applying a bandage to each one, "All finished." You say, proud of your handiwork.

"Thank you, my dear," He says as he gets up, pulling you into a warm embrace. Your heart pounding in your chest. You lift your face up to meet his loving crimson gaze as he leans down to give you a soft, warm kiss upon your lips.

You may not like to see him hurt, but you live for these gentle moments.

Diluc x gn reader END

I hope you enjoy <3

[mypoisonedvine]

𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘬 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 || niki lauda x reader

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: niki takes only very calculated risks, except when you’re around to show him how to have a bit more fun.

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: about 3k

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: smut (semi-public sex, rough-ish sex, road head, very slight dubcon but really just mild hesitance), a touch of degradation (but it comes from a place of love I promise), spanking (briefly), established relationship, niki being massively introverted and slightly rude (but like, same)

[gif is mine, which explains why it looks so bad]

“How long do we have to stay here?” Niki mumbled into your ear, making you roll your eyes.

“We’ve only just arrived,” you reminded him.  “It’s a lovely afternoon, it’s a beautiful property, and I want you to meet my friends.”

“I know, I’m not trying to suggest we leave too quickly, I just want to know how much dull conversation I’m in for.”

You shoved his shoulder, only as hard as you thought you could without disturbing the flute of champagne in his hand.  “I hope nobody hears you talking that way.”

Before he could respond, the owner of the aforementioned beautiful property stepped up and extended his hand to Niki warmly.  “You must be the elusive Nikolaus we’ve heard so much about!”

“Just Niki is fine, thank you,” he returned with a firm shake and a polite smile.  “It’s nice to meet you.”

The small talk went on that way for a while, with Niki just barely managing to come across as socially acceptable and thankfully staying away from too much racing talk (even when other guests tried to egg him on for more details about it).

That was one of the many interesting things about your boyfriend: it wasn’t that he lacked any social intelligence, in fact he had more than most crowds he was in put together, it was just that he didn’t really seem to mind if people saw him as a bit cold or standoffish.  He could be incredibly charming, after all he had charmed you quite easily, but he preferred to be brutally honest.  All was well so long as honesty and politeness didn’t interfere.

After a few conversations where you clung to his arm and laughed at all his jokes, you could see him becoming visibly tired of it all; he ran his fingers through his sandy-blonde curls more often, he began to toy with the button of his blazer, all signs of subtle irritation that only you would pick up on.  It made you realize you should find a way to excuse the two of you for a moment, to give him a break.

“Say, Niki, would you like to take a walk in the vineyard?” you offered, hoping your friends would pick up on the signal not to invite themselves along.

“Yes, schatz, that would be lovely,” he nodded, and as the two of you quickly waved goodbye to those you had been conversing with, he grabbed your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours.

“What do you think of them?” you prompted when you were far enough away from everyone else that you knew he wouldn’t be heard.

“They have a lot of questions,” he mumbled exhaustedly, making you laugh.

“They want to get to know you better!  I’ve been subjecting them to hours of going on and on about you, no wonder they’re excited to finally hear it straight from the man himself,” you explained.  

“I imagine they’re rather disappointed,” he smirked.

“Niki, of course they’re not!” you gasped.  “In fact, I bet they’re pleasantly surprised considering I told them so many awful things about you.”

He laughed lightly, looking down at the ground, and you walked around in front of him to grab the lapel of his blazer and pull him closer.  As he leaned in for a kiss, you kept leaning back with a smirk, making him chase you.  It didn’t last long, of course, his patience running thin until he grabbed your face and crashed his lips against yours.  You melted into it, moaning softly when his tongue traced over your lips and finally slipped into your mouth.

It was you chasing him when he pulled back, already totally lost in him and ready to ditch the party just to kiss him for an hour.

“You shouldn’t tease me like that,” he decided, looking at you with half-lidded eyes and lips that were a bit pinker than usual as well as fallen slack.

“You shouldn’t kiss me so good after I tease you like that, and I’ll have no reason to,” you countered.

When you turned around you realized you were approaching the driveway where you’d parked in the first place, and Niki immediately stepped up to the car.  “Let’s take a drive,” he suggested, but it didn’t quite feel like a suggestion when he was already opening your door for you and ushering you in.

“Wh— really?” you questioned, but you were already in your seat and he had shut the door behind you, circling the front of the car to get in the driver’s seat.  “Where are we going to go?” you asked when he got behind the wheel and turned the key.

“Just around, we’ll be back soon,” he shrugged, and you decided not to question it anymore; clearly, this was his best way to clear his head, and you were just happy he wanted you to come with him.

He took the car out of the driveway and started a journey down the road; you looked out the window at the scenery rolling by, and realized this was probably as good a way as any to show him the vineyard like you promised.  But, when you looked back at him where he was stoically staring out, steering through the twists and turns of the countryside road like it was second nature, you decided it was a better view than the scenery outside.

When you reached up to turn on the radio, he quickly smacked your hand— lightly, but enough to make you frown.  “Hey!” you defended, returning your hand to your lap.

“I prefer not to have music on when I drive,” he explained.  “It distracts me.”

You snorted out a laugh.  “You’re one of the best drivers alive, I figured you can manage a few distractions.”

“I can,” he countered, and you were a bit surprised that he didn’t challenge the qualifier of one of the best drivers alive.   “I just mean that the sound of the car is more entertaining to me than music.”

That answer sounded a lot more like the Niki you knew, and you smiled as you laid back against the passenger seat.  “You have a funny idea of entertainment, Niki,” you informed him.

“I know,” he nodded.

Glancing over at him, admiring his profile as he stared down at the road ahead, your lip caught in your teeth as you had a really, really bad idea.  “So you can drive with distractions?”

“If I need to,” he shrugged.

“Then maybe we can both get some entertainment,” you purred, sitting up and starting to lean closer to him.

“Schatz, what are you doing?” he stammered slightly, watching you with wide eyes as you reached to his belt, opening it quickly and already unzipping his fly.

“Shh, focus on the road Niki,” you winked, pulling his cock from his trousers and grinning at the way he gasped slightly.  It wasn’t quite hard yet, but it was growing quickly in your grasp, and a few kitten licks over the tip certainly helped him along.

“F-fuck,” he whispered above you, and you fought your smile as you wrapped your lips around him.  “Fuck.”

You hollowed your cheeks and bobbed your head, moaning a bit just from the taste of a drop of precum forming at his slit and smearing on your tongue.

“Wait, this— this is dangerous,” he breathed, and you kept stroking while you pulled off to reply.

“Shouldn’t be if you drive steady.”

“I can do that,” he nodded.  “I think…”

You got back to it before he could start worrying again.  The poor guy was always thinking, constantly assessing and analyzing everything, and it honestly sounded fucking exhausting.  Sometimes you thought sucking him off was the only way to really get him out of his head, and considering the way his body relaxed under your touch and he let out a soft sigh, this was one of those times.

“Baby,” he moaned lowly as your lips met the base of his cock, and although you were certainly partial to the petnames in his native tongue, you really didn’t mind the way he called you ‘baby’ either.  It made you want to keep him buried in your throat forever, but sadly you could only go so long without breathing.

So, instead, you just found a pattern you were happy with of sucking the head and stroking the rest.

“Oh, fuck,” he hissed, reaching down with one hand to hold the back of your head, guiding your movements.

You had to be careful not to block the gear shift when you were bent over like this, which was a bit uncomfortable but ultimately so worth it when he shifted gears quickly while you were still bobbing your head over his length.  Now you understood why he liked to hear the car… because now you could feel the car, feel the engine’s thrum as it reverberated through the steel and over your body.  It was actually a bit erotic, now that you thought about it; but then again, everything seems erotic when you’re as turned on as you were in the moment, your body crying out for more than it would have a chance to get any time soon.

He shifted gears again, taking the car around a tight turn, and you held onto his thighs tightly to keep from moving too much.  Thankfully he kept his promise to drive steady and it was pretty easy to keep your pace, even to speed it up as you hoped he would come down your throat without ever stopping the car or even slowing down.

The way he hissed in a sharp breath and grabbed your hair, accidentally pulling it (which you certainly didn't mind), made you think it wasn't so far off.

"God, you're a devil with that tongue, schatz," he groaned.  "Your mouth is so fucking sweet, you'll make me come."

You hoped your little hum around him made it clear that that was exactly what you wanted.

"You'll swallow it all, yes?" he pressed.  "You're not going to let any mess get on my beautiful leather seats, are you?"

You hummed again, sucking harder, and he moaned a bit louder.

"Fuck, j-just like that," he sighed.  "Don't— ah— don't stop, schatz, I'm close."

As if you would stop when all you could think about was the taste of him, how badly you wanted it to coat your tongue.  Already you could feel his cock starting to flex against your tongue and you doubled your efforts to bring him to the edge.  Normally you didn’t get a chance to hear his little moans and sighs because you were too busy making your own, so with your mouth full you could appreciate the sounds he made just for you.

It was only a stuttered gasp that signaled his release, just before ropes of warm come started to hit the back of your throat.  You narrowly avoided gagging from the way his hand pushed you down and held you there, but you moaned around him at the taste.  Your channel was throbbing, clearly annoyed that he was coming anywhere else.

Niki whispered your name, nearly choked on it, and let go as the pulses began to die down and he let out a long, sharp breath.  But you weren’t quite done; you kept moving for a few moments, slowly, making sure to have every drop in your mouth before you finally pulled off and swallowed; you noticed a spare drop of come rolling down his shaft and stuck your tongue out to lick it up in a quick swipe while he noticeably tensed beneath you.

He spared a glance at you as you sat up and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, and you didn’t miss the shocked, yet exhausted, look on his face.  "Satisfied?" you asked with a proud grin.

"Not quite," he answered in a growl, pulling the car to the side of the road and parking it quickly.  "Get out and bend over the hood."

"Niki, what if someone—?"

"I think I made myself clear, get out and bend over the hood, schatz."

The petname had a lot more venom to it when he said it like that, with a cold sneer on his lips, and that likely should’ve deterred you but it only stoked the flame of need burning in your gut, and you nodded meekly before opening your door and getting out of the car.  He followed you as you bent over, placing his body behind your as he pulled your dress up and your panties down.

Right away he swiped two fingers through your folds and you shuddered.  "Dripping wet," he observed with a smirk.  "Do you like having my cock in your mouth that much?"

You nodded, trying to rock your hips for more friction.

"This pussy must have been so lonely,” he realized.  “Want me to fill you up, pretty girl?”

“Please,” you breathed, but even you didn’t expect him to shove into you in one stroke, right away, spearing you right to the brim as you choked on a gasp.  And he was moving right away, too, giving you no time to adjust to the girth of him.  "Fuck, Niki!" you whined, earning you a hard spank to your ass.  

You should’ve known he’d get back at you for those few minutes where you wielded power over him.  Well, actually, you sort of had known, which was part of why you did it in the first place.

For a man who had just come already, he fucked you with a lot more desperation than you were expecting, fast and rough and dirty.  But you realized it was more for your benefit than his; damn him, he always knew exactly what you needed and gave it to you effortlessly, operating your body with the same intuitive precision he drove his cars with.

And if we're continuing with the car metaphors, then reaching around to rub your clit while he fucked you was like kicking you into high gear.

"Ohhhh my god," you crooned, arching your back and trying to push back against his thrusts.

"It feels good?" he asked, like it wasn't obvious.

"Feels so fucking good, Niki, please please please don't stop," you begged.  Because you wouldn't put it past him to stop all of a sudden— to slam on the e-brake and not move again until you squirmed and cried and pleaded your little heart out.  But even he wouldn't be so cruel now, and he kept fucking you as he pinched your clit hard.

"That's what I thought," he nodded, leaning down to wrap his body over yours and speak into your ear.  "You're moaning like a little whore, you know."

"M'your whore," you gasped.  "Yours, fuck, it's all for you."

He stood back up straight with a grin and held your hips as he started to really pound into you, your walls beginning to pulse rhythmically as you felt him rubbing over every sensitive spot inside you.  His cock was so deep that it felt like you struggled to breathe slightly each time he shoved all the way inside.

It was a bit out of character for him, much more aggressive than he would normally be, but you didn't pull over expecting to make love on the car.  No, this was fucking, through and through, and you were already going to hit your high so much sooner than you could've anticipated: pressure was building inside you faster than you knew what to do with, and your clit was literally throbbing with only his balls slapping against it to provide any relief.

"Oh god, Niki, baby, I'm… I'm gonna come," you panted.

"Do it, then," he instructed roughly.  "Come around my cock, schatz, and scream nice and loud for me since nobody's around to hear you."

Your knees buckled when it hit you, thankfully you had the car and his tight grip to keep you upright.  “Fuck, Niki,” you sobbed, and he laughed proudly before spitting out his demand:

“Louder.”

“Niki!” you yelped, and apparently you had finally said it loud enough, because he was suddenly groaning and spilling inside you, holding your hips tight enough to bruise to keep you still as he thrusted erratically.

You hummed happily and let your head fall onto the warm hood of the car, body going limp as he finally stilled and let out a slow sigh.  He was careful as he pulled out, but you were still so sensitive that it made your toes curl inside your shoes just a bit.

Even though he was quick to pull your panties back up, a drop of his come still managed to leak out of your hole and drip down your thigh.  With no intent to let it go to waste, Niki swiped it up with the tip of his finger and brought it to your lips for you to lick off; you were still a bit groggy in the afterglow but happily obliged, suckling the digit with a little simultaneous moan and sigh.

“We should be getting back to the party soon,” Niki mumbled, helping you stand upright and straightening your dress for you.  

“Do I look alright?” you asked, opening the passenger door and flipping down the visor to try to use the small mirror inside.

“You look gorgeous,” he smiled.

“I mean more if I look like I didn’t just leave a garden party to get railed by my boyfriend on the side of the road only to then return like nothing happened,” you explained.

“Oh… yeah, no, you do look a bit like that’s exactly what you’ve done,” he nodded.  “Do you really think they’ll notice?”

“Well, I guess we just have to hope they don’t,” you decided as you attempted to fix your lipstick as best as possible.  “And if they do… then we'll hope we don’t end up reading some unsavory gossip about Ferrari’s newest driver in the papers tomorrow.”

He laughed as he got back in the driver’s seat, starting the car while you hopped in (a bit too fast; you winced when you sat down and realized you were still slightly sore and probably would be for the rest of the day).  “Trust me, schatz, in this industry, fucking your girlfriend only qualifies as unsavory gossip when you already have a wife at home.  And even then, you can get away with it a few times.”

“Right,” you snorted as you rolled your eyes, “I forget sometimes that you’re considered a goody two-shoes for a racer.”

“I hope you didn’t agree to be my girlfriend in search of wild adventures with the bad boy type,” he smirked.

“We just fucked on the car right on the side of the road, Niki,” you reminded him, “believe it or not that’s pretty wild for most of us.”

“For me as well,” he agreed.  “It’s you that makes me so bold... sometimes I can hardly believe the things I do because you’re near.”

You smiled happily to yourself, relaxing back against the seat with a deep breath.  Just when you let your eyes fall shut as you listened to the engine with him, you were surprised when you heard him turn the radio on.

You, you make loving fun

It’s all I wanna do…

You chuckled.  “I like this song,” you announced, reaching to turn it up slightly, though it was still mainly background music as you watched the hillside roll by.

He surprised you again by reaching out and resting his hand on your thigh, rubbing his thumb over your skin.  But his eyes were still on the road, even when you looked over at him, and you recognized the driveway where you’d started down the end of the way.

“Back to reality, eh?” you sighed.

“For now,” he decided.  “I should make you meet other drivers and pit crew as revenge for all these social engagements you take me too.”

“Niki, that would require you to socialise with other drivers and pit crew, too,” you noted.

He shuddered.  “You should be safe for now, then.”