#or be allowed to drown him in his ice bath

[molliemoo3]

Danny should be allowed to beat Crofty with a stick, because I'm on the fucking verge with how many times they've said maybe final race, so how the fuck does he feel

[mscherub]

Emotional Support Shrimp

A/N: cutely drops in this fic I’ve had in my drafts for months…I’m still working on the Idia request. AND FOR THE OTHER PPL WHO REQUESTED STUFF I SEE U, I’m just unmotivated…Writers block is kicking my ass 😞

Tags: A little dark, supposed to be funny, fluff, Floyd being a menace…

Warnings:

Floyd leech causes harm (when doesn’t he?)

Violence

mentions of injuries (random student, referee)

suggestive towards the end

Swearing

Honestly, when is money not always a huge feat for you? The day you finally get your allowance from Crowley, it’s gone within a minute from being spent on only a portion of needed items. Last week you ended up running out of tuna for Grim, and for the love of the seven you don’t wanna go through that again. Everyone knew of your situation, wasn’t very hard to see, but you weren’t the type to latch on to others and use them like a pay pig, but many offered which is a little concerning, anyways, to each their own, you suppose. You had your own values to follow, but you did appreciate what they were willing to do.

Azul knew quite fondly of your situation, using you as a “backup” employee for when one of the servers or dishwasher at the lounge decided to call off, and you usually accepted because, hey, money! He didn’t exactly trust you in the kitchen, mainly based off of the liabilities he could face since you didn’t even have birth records or anything that he could “ok” for you to work within that vicinity, but everything else was a great option.

The laborious shifts were no stranger to you after having taken up a position there so many times, you could say you were used to it by this point, and an even bigger achievement, used to the ways of the tweels, specifically Floyd. Yes they were unpredictable, yes they were scary when they wanted to be, yes they gave off mafia vibes, but they somehow “accepted” you, accepted, of course, being a very vague term to describe it. Maybe tolerate is a bit better. They didn’t seem to wish to cause harm or other masses of stress like they would just for funsies with other guys around campus, but if push comes to shove, you bet they’d have no doubt and chuck you under the bus in mere seconds, hence why you try and stay on their good side.

Technically they all owe you one in a way, especially Azul with his little overblot, but that’s something in the past for you at least.

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Incident One: Ice Bath

“Prefect, go reason with him!” Azul barks out the command. You sigh and turn around from his office and go to find Floyd. A cycle that repeats itself. Free Therapist for Floyd is a good title…no, wait no. Doesn’t make sense. Plaything would be more appropriate. The thought makes you shudder and shake your head.

The click of the dress shoes on the ground, the clamor of people in the lounge, drowns out as your thoughts officially take over.

This time Floyd messed around more than he should have with people on Azul’s black list, and he may or may not have gotten carried away. So now you’re back on the hunt to find him after getting an earful from the boss himself, and hearing him and the troublemaker bicker in his office. Fun times here at Mostro Lounge. Why’d you choose to work here. Should have asked Mr. Sam if he needed any help…

The door to the pool is stuck wide open and once you peer your head inside you see Floyd swimming in circles angrily, the water rippling swiftly around his body.

“Floyd.” You call out. It’s almost akin to a gentle coo. Where did that gentleness come from? Whatever…

“Wanna swim, Shrimpy? I’ll promise not to drown you.” He stops and smirks. Ok. Stay away from the water. “Or if you came here to chat…we can see if I’ve got the patience for that right now.” He sighs.

“Azul—“

“I don’t wanna hear it. Quit your yapping and go swim around somewhere else.” His eyes narrow and his fins tense.

“Look. If you just got back to work then—“ you’re cut off again.

“Work is the last thing I wanna do right now.” He glares at you, but then eerily a smirk forms once he beckons you over. “You can cheer me up if you swim with me.”

“I have to get back to working too— and ok, never mind…”

He hoists himself up onto the tiled floor, half of his tail still swaying in the water. And then he pouts at you. It shouldn’t do anything to sway your determination to get him on track again, but it crumbles down those walls and you find yourself walking towards him.

“Yay! You do like me a little at least then, Shrimpy.” He giggles, and before you know it he grabs your wrist and slips back into the water, pulling you in with him.

It’s cold. OH IT’S SUPER COLD!

Thrashing your arms in the water you bob back up to the surface, your uniform hat drifting away to the other side of this might-as-well-be ice bath. This was a lot colder than you remember when you went down to the sea the one time…

“Hah! Cold? Humans are just so weak…” Floyd’s voice rumbles from behind you and his slick, slimy arms wrap around your soaked clothes that act as a second skin, yet barely do anything to keep the bite of the cold away.

“But you’re my Shrimpy so I’ll keep ya safe.”

His warmth is shared with yours now, but it’s not enough, unfortunately.

“Floyd…lemme outta here. It so fucking cold holy shit.”

He giggles at your misfortune and spins around a few times with you in his arms slowly.

His chin rests on your shoulder and a silence falls over you two. It’s not uncomfortable. But it’s short lived.

“Hold your breath!”

“Floyd, wait— No!!”

Bubbles spew out of your nose and you force your eyes open only to see mismatched ones gleaming with amusement.

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

“I can’t believe you two…the time spent, rather wasted, will be taken out of both of your checks. This is just unbelievable…” Azul groans. His hand runs down his face before he sets his elbows down on the desk and rubs his temples.

“Out of my office.”

The silence is loud as you two walk out, a towel wrapped around you and a sloppily dressed Floyd who was just earlier grumbling about having to drink that transformation potion.

“Do something like that again and…ugh…”

“Eh? I thought it was fun, Shrimpy! We’ll swim again soon for sure.”

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Incident Two: Plucked Petals

“Drag him back to work…” Again?

You heed Azul’s orders and you turn out of his office yet again, pushing open the door and heading on your way to search for the one and only…

He left midway through his shift. It had only been like 3 hours…and he already got “bored.” You’re just fed up with his excuses, and then you end up getting yelled at as well if you take too long. You need to get back on the clock, too, “be lucky I’m even paying you to go get him,” Azul says, “be lucky I even pay you in the first place,” Azul says. Ok…anyways.

Traces of Floyd are no where to be seen. He couldn’t have gone far in the span of, what? Five minutes? He had long legs, sure, but he—

“OFF WITH YOU’RE HEAD!”

Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no. You knew who that was. Great. Now you had to calm down two people! Lovely…

You jog around the corner of the mirror chamber to the path way only to see Floyd with rose petals scattered about around him and a very angry riddle with his arms crossed in an exponential amount of annoyance and anger, as well as an unamused look.

“Oh-“

Riddles head whips in your direction and you prepare yourself for the onslaught of complaints…

“He broke a rule!” Riddle says, “He ruined my flowers,” Riddle says, “He came onto Heartslabyul grounds without invite and unannounced,” Riddle says. You had enough.

“Yea. He uh…mhmmm. I’ll take him back, just…uncollar him…” your finger points over to Floyd. He’s actively tugging at it and trying to crane his neck downwards so he can gnaw it off…is he ok?

“This is not the first time this has happened. I’ve let him get away with his actions one too many times. I shall send this matter to Headmaster Crowley now if you’d excuse me, Prefect. I have more pressing matters to tend to than dwaddle on a sorry soul who doesn’t know basic decency…”

“Riddle…I get where you’re coming from but Azul will soon have my head if I don’t bring him back and myself…so uh.” You sway on your feet.

He thinks for a moment. You weren’t untrustworthy, so maybe he could let this slide— just kidding, he’s Riddle. With a stern look and a dismissive tone, he makes up his mind and drags Floyd away to the main building.

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

“And now Floyd has earned a suspension?” Jade hums as he wipes off a table.

“From entering any other dorm besides his own, prohibited to participate in any club activities or work at the lounge, and now Azul’s making me work his shift and mine for at least a week…until his suspension is up.”

“My, my…I’d say it was deserved. As much as Floyd is held dear to me, he causes the outcomes with his actions. He finds them to be quite amusing, however, greatly so once you get involved.”

“Yea— wait…when I get involved? Is he doing this stuff on purpose?” Your hands perch themselves on your hips.

“That I cannot tell you.”

“Ugh…”

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Incident Three: Balling

“What the fuck…” That’s all that leaves your lips once you step into the gym. People are chatting loudly and quickly and the only message that you got from Ace was:

Help. Floyd did sum shit. Tell him to get a hold and hopefully plan his words right so he doesn’t get a law suit

Safe to say you are fairly concerned. You push through the crowd of kids and find the familiar redhead accompanied by Jamil. Ace doesn’t let you speak one word once his eyes land on you.

“Ok, before you get all mad here, Prefect, you were the first one I decided to call cause uh…you know. You’re closer to the twins than anyone else really…” Ace attempts to reason with you but you’re entirely focused on something else. Someone else.

“Why is that guy passed out?”

The referee is surrounded by a few Sports med mages, all assessing the passes out form in the middle of the court. There’s a small pool of blood under his nose, which his nose is now plugged up with bits of gauze.

“Ok, yea. So…Floyd was given a penalty and he kinda hurled the ball at the ref…now he’s…” he motions vaguely to the motionless form. “Kinda knocked out. Probably has a broken nose. The look on the ref’s face was kinda priceless, though—“

Jamil smacks Ace and sighs.

“What?!”

“Floyd stormed off…” Jamil nods. That much is expected.

“Ok then…I shall…go find him.”

The suns setting. There’s a nice orange hue casted across the land. The setting would be really amazing to gawk at if it wasn’t for the task at hand. To find the culprit and ease him down from his hot headedness…you’re fine.

“Floyd—“

A hand grips your shoulder and turns you around. Face pressed against sweaty skin in under a second and you know who it is.

“Gross! Floyd!” His arms squeeze and, yep, don’t even try and breathe.

“That damn ref, you know? So sensitive! All I did was just trip someone…a couple times. RSA was kicking our asses again…just a tiny bit of foul play never hurt anyone…at least not too bad. Sports back in the sea were more fun!” His hold is steadfast.

“I once broke some poor guppies arm in a sport back home. Scuttle Ship. Fun game. And then I ripped his fins.”

“O-oh…ok…uh. On accident?” You struggle to keep your face from being muffled against his skin.

“Nah. Whole point of the game…whoever comes out less hurt is the winner.”

Oh…oh.

“Fun game…why are you here, anyways? Did ya come to watch the game? Hope you were gonna cheer for me.” His embrace, eases up.

“Uh, yea…and also I was worried…to see that you kinda left after what went down in the gymnasium…”

“Eh. He was a dumb ref like I said…”

You pause and clear your throat. “Your team needs you again…even id you’ll probably be benched.”

“Well then there’s no point in me going back. Plus. You’re better to hang around. I didn’t wanna play that game today, anyways…whaddya say we go scare some students walking around this late, huh?”

“Floyd…”

“Cmon.”

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Last shift of the week! Yay! You just gotta tough it out. Easier said than done. You’ll get your paycheck and then off to Heartslabyul to get Grim and then probably get force-fed some pastries by Trey which you’ll happily accept, and then back to Ramshackle.

“Jade, where’s Floyd? I need these orders for table 12, like now…” you huff as you shift the tray out from under your arm and place it down on the counter, looking back in the kitchen through the doubles doors that swing at their hinges. Articulating back and forth in a fluid motion.

“He got called into Azul’s office.” He hums as he idly writes down things on his notepad

“Again?” That’s just great news for you. “If I have to call him down again I might just quit for real this time.”

Jade doesn’t even turn his head at your words. There ones you’ve said before yet you’re still here.

“Always, he’s been slacking off, as usual.” He smiles. “I can go ask the cooks where the meals are if you’d like.”

“I’d…appreciate it. I need the tips from customers tonight so I need all the tables I can get. Thanks a bunch.” You sigh, leaning against the counter and pulling out your phone. You read a few of the messages sent to various group chats you were in, the first year group chat oddly talking about how Professor Crewel is, quote, “a kinky mf.” Yea, you’re just gonna put your phone away again…were they wrong though?

Jade comes back out carrying another circular tray, you straighten up and you take it off of him. “Thank you, Jade. You’re a financial savior for me.” You chuckle as you move your hand around on the bottom till it rests balanced on your palm.

“It was nothing, really.” He gives a small bow and goes back to his duties.

You head off again back into the seating areas, weaving through the crowds of people who were, for some reason, standing instead of sitting and ending up in your way. You make it over to your section and then over to the table, bending your knees a bit as you place the tray down on a smaller foldable table off to the side. A random plate is selected and you put on your happy face and act for the people sitting around in the booth.

“Here you are, the seafood bake, uh, then you, you got the lobster dish here…then you ordered the salmon, and then you ordered the snow crab! That’s it I believe? Does anybody need anything before I head off?” You clasp your hands together and look frantically around the table as you wait and watch for any of them to speak. You’re met with small shakes of their heads and soft sighs of no’s, taking the hint and giving one last bright smile before you nod and walk off.

Off in the distance, a muffled slam of a door is heard and you see Floyd walking out of Azul’s office, a grimace etched onto his face as he heads back into the kitchen and passes by Jade, who, just glares at him before he goes to finish his own tasks.

You knew what would happen next, Azul would find you, then make you “calm him down.” It was never something you liked mainly because it was putting your life at risk, which was ironic because Azul explicitly stated he didn’t want you partaking in any harmful activities, but whatever. It’s sadly another small side job that’s forced upon you just so Floyd can get back to work himself. All for money…

The other waiters grab dishes and scurry off, moving far away. The chatter and yelling within the kitchen dies down significantly, going quiet as pots and pans slam against the stove top, the only culprit of that being Floyd. You take one breath in before you go inside and pick out the teal-ish colored hair from the other bundles of students and walk over to him as calmly as you could. It’s better to do the things you know that you’ll be asked to do before they happen, so…you got this. And you’re only doing it because you know you’ll be asked to and totally not because you like Floyd maybe a little. That’s not it. Definitely not it. He’s scary why would you like him? Exactly. Anyways! No sweat! It’s just Floyd…that’s it! Just Floyd and no worries…everything will go swell and you’ll all be happy again! Maybe he’ll break a few ribs when he squeezes you but that’s nothing…you’ll just be magicked up later by the nurse mage and you’ll be just fine. Just fine. You’re sweating. Shit—

“Hey, Floyd. What happened.” You sigh with a slight pout on your face. He doesn’t even look at you, his face contorting even more into a look that said “leave me the fuck alone.” It was worth a shot…he usually found that to be a dumb look on you but I guess not today. Oh no. He’s royally pissed right now. Hopefully Azul didn’t sneak a waiver somewhere in that working contract you signed…

You straighten up and glance at the other chefs in the kitchen, all of them giving you questioning gazes. One in the back clasps his hands together and bows his head and— wait, is this guy really praying right now? Geez…

“Floyd…” you try again.

He works away harder at the random meal he’s cooking. The contents already looked charred…

“Don’t wanna talk, Shrimpy,” He huffs, “Go.” He says gruffly.

“I’m not gonna go—“

“I’m busy! Since Azul wants me working my fins off then you know what, I’ll do just that!” He spits out. It sounds threatening, filled with warnings, but before you could try one last time to get him to ease up, one of the students bumps into him, sending the dishes they were carrying flying into the air. The guy stumbles back, food splattering on the floor and plates shattering, Floyd acting like a brick wall and staying still as he slowly turns to look down at him. No words are exchanged. None at all. He simply dumps the hot oil and food that he had into the pan onto him.

Screaming, yelling, a lot goes on within the span of a few seconds. Azul comes in, Jade follows behind, other waiters peer into the kitchen to see what’s going on.

You take the initiative and you grab Floyd’s arm while he’s distracted and take the pan from out of his grasp and set it back down on the stove. You turn the burner off and you look back at him, then to the, now injured, guy upon the floor.

“Floyd. This is coming out of your check, and you’re banned from the kitchen.” Azul comes over quickly with an aura of anger. Floyd rolls his eyes and pushes past him to walk out.

“Prefect, go after him, will you? I don’t need him hurting another person who doesn’t deserve it.” Azul waves his hand at the situation. It was common so no one really took much time to dwell on it since Floyd partook in these types of activities just to pass the time. A common occurrence if you will.

Azul gives you one last stern glance to tell you again silently to go do what he had asked of you. You reluctantly nod and you go out to search for him. It’s absurd, really, having to do all of this. It’d be better if they left him alone to blow off some steam, but no, you have to go calm him down, you have to be the one to watch him like a helicopter parent.

You go to the tweels shared room and knock on the door. It was a just a guess he’d be in his room, but you silently hoped he wasn’t so you’d have some time to avoid either a life or death situation. You liked your life at least a little now…

Silence. You’re met with silence. Ok, try again, just once more to make sure he’s not in there. You knock again, a little louder this time and announcing yourself to being there. And silence again. Maybe fate is helping you out today…

“Floyd? Are you in there?.” You’re about to knock one last time when the door is quickly ripped open, an angry Floyd peering down at you. Brows furrowed, eyes squinted and dark, glazed over with frustration and anger, a scowl etched into his lips. Yep…and here you were, standing in front of him, practically helpless and without anywhere to run because you know he’d find that a fun game and catch up to you in a second.

You straighten up under his gaze and clear the lump in your throat that you didn’t even know formed.

“Hey…”

Floyd doesn’t make any noises, instead opting for what he likes to do when he’s this mad, and wraps his arms around you and squeezes tight. He brings you into the room and closes the door with his foot, going over to his bed and taking you down with him as he nuzzles his cheek against yours.

You try and squirm out of his arms but he’s insanely strong and the efforts you make are useless. You’re already waiting for your back to make a popping noise…

“Floyd— heyyyy…let me go.” You murmur out as you struggle to breathe with all this extra weight on top of you.

“Shhh, Shrimpy. Quiet.” He mutters. He moves his face to the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning against the side, which in turn causes you to tense up. What the fuck is he doing. You try to shrink away, but that was a mistake because he squeezes you against him even more.

He brushes his lips over your pulse point and smirks, but it quickly fades away as he opts to keep his face pressed up against your neck, not doing anything. He likes to feel your heart racing…

“Always trying to make me feel better, Shrimpy…” he sighs. “And you do…meh, sometimes…you don’t have to listen to Azul…but ya do. Starting to wonder if you just like being around me…” he nuzzles into you again, teeth grazing your skin.

“For one, I kinda have to listen to Azul…” you whisper. “I can’t be like you with him. Plus…I don’t mind you all that much since—“ he squeezes again. For sevens sake. “Ease up! I don’t mind you, yea…you’re fine to be around. That’s it.”

“Liar…” he chuckles. “You’re so silly…” he pulls his face up and looks at you, his mismatched eyes calculating, inspecting that gaze in your eyes towards him.

“You’re stupid, too…for liking someone like me. But it’s so cute, Shrimpy.” His lips quirk up into a smirk and he bears his razor sharp teeth to you. “I could easily hurt you, Shrimpy….”

“That sounds vaguely like a threat but…you don’t really hurt me— not ever actually. Scare me? Yes…but not hurt.” you murmur. His smile softens a bit and he nods, moving his forehead to rest against yours. If you weren’t already flushed, you were now.

“No…but I could, that’s the point.” He giggles before moving away again. He was teasing. “Do you know why I don’t?” He hums as he sits up, letting his arms unravel from around you. He looks out the window connected to the sea. You sit up as well, taking in a well deserved breath of air.

He’s silent for a moment, watching as the fish pass by without a care. Your uniform is all wrinkled now, great—

“Cause I’d be kinda pissed off without you around, y’know. And not just how I usually am…I’d be mad all the time.”

You stop. He stops and looks at you. You make very awkward eye contact with him, but both of your gazes soften. That’s sweet of him in his own way. Quite frankly you didn’t think he was capable of that since it’s not usually like him. Why is your heart beating a bit quicker now? This time it’s not so much out of stress or the fear of being eaten alive, Floyd looks fairly sated so…what’s this feeling for…

“What do you think of me, hmmm?”

You don’t know how to respond to that. Does he actually care what people think? No, not really. You see that all the time with how he even talks to teachers. But if you had to say, the few people he listens to, slightly, are Jade, Azul, and…you. That doesn’t mean anything! This is an odd question coming from him. “I think you’re…ok. Being around you is fun sometimes…uh…I don’t really know.” That’s great. You probably ticked him off more…

“Just ‘ok’? Ouch, Shrimpy…” he pouts as he looks at you. He inches his face closer to yours again, personal space being far out of the question at the moment. He looks down to your lips before smirking again and then locking on to your eyes.

“You just saying that cause you’re hiding something?”

That’s not…you weren’t, no. Definitely not. You didn’t really want to say how well he made you smile or laugh on days where you were down, or that he cared that much to make you happy again. Or whenever he’d always seem to find you to be his go to person to bug now for, well, everything he did.…you didn’t wanna say you liked getting him out of trouble, didn’t want to tell him you do enjoy being around him, he’d get all smug about it…and that’s it! Totally nothing else behind it. Nope.

“Be honest, Shrimpy. You like me? Cause I like you…for some reason.” He sighs. He moves closer again.

Kinda straight forward, no?

“What…huh?! WAIT WHAT?” you manage to stammer out. Floyd nods along to your words with an unimpressed look.

“I like you.”

“I heard you the first time!”

“Do you like me?”

“Ok…well…no! Wait…maybe? Yes? How do I even answer that right away?!” You’re freaking out and he’s enjoying it.

His smirk widens again and he laughs at you…this guy.

“See? Silly Shrimpy…” his arms lace back around you and his face is right in front of yours again.

Without taking anything else into consideration, Floyd pushes his lips against yours.

You don’t move, you don’t try and push him away, and out of all the times Floyd has ever given you a chance to stop him in any of his acts, you could tell this moment was one of them. His eyes are still locked onto yours, lidded and a smirk forming, gaging your reaction. His arms barely touch your body, giving you a chance to get the fuck out if you’d want to. But you don’t move away. You push your lips against his more and you flutter your eyes closed. Floyd takes the hint and he holds you again, though this time, it’s gentle.

After a moment you both pull away, a goofy grin across his face. “Hmmmm…” he giggles, “I feel a lot better now, Shrimpy. See? I’m bored now…cmon, let’s go somewhere and ditch that stupid work Azul’s got us doing…”

So! Wasn’t the best, yes, I know, but it’s something…

Also I feel like some parts from my courting fic for Floyd wiggled its way in here—

Master List

Please don’t steal or copy any of my work! You may, however, reblog if you’d want to!

Pictures belong to Disney Twisted Wonderland but are edited by me :)

[bluemerakis]

─────── ❝ drowning ❞ ⋆ 𖦹 ˚.⋆

─────────── ᝰ bluemerakis ༝༚༝༚ ──

pairing ୨୧ munch .ᐟ dean winchester x fem .ᐟ reader

warnings .ᐟ cussing, oral f receiving, face-riding, switch!dean kinda, pet names. lmk if i forgot any :))

synopsis ─ riding dean’s face and pointy lil nose bc i’m just a girl 🤷‍♀️

word count ~ 1.1k

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“Jesus!” You gasp into the air—all thick and slick with the sounds of reciprocated pleasure.

Dean’s nose rams straight into the heat of your core, calloused palms roughhousing the meat of your thighs as his fingers flex into the tender flesh—kneading, grasping, pulling you further into the ravenous fondling of his tongue.

“Hey—don’t go bringin’ the big, ol’ man in the sky into this,” he rasps against you—the breath hot and needy as it sprawls over your exploited sex. “S’all me, baby—every damn minute o’ it. And I’ll be damned if I let that cloud-wearing jackass take the credit for the way you sound—Jesus,” he husks curtly—impatiently—and then he’s buried himself back into everything that you are.

Like you’re everything he needs.

Every jut of his stubbled jaw against you feels like a helpless skim along thawed ice—unforgiving and wet with the history of the countless orgasms that have already rattled your body. Theatrical finishes he seems hell-bent on eliciting—like you’re the lines he can’t help but obsessively recite.

To what end? Yours. All yours.

You’re spread over his face in a helpless straddle, back arched in a tangent of desperation as your hands fly back to cup and paw at the support of his abdomen. Your head buckles back with a shattered moan as the brawny pad of his tongue flattens against your sensitive mound, and for the hundredth time this evening, he sows a long and firm line through the slicked folds.

He terminates the plough at the swell of your clit, but his nose doesn’t stop shy of a harsh prod against the sensitive anatomy. Your hips stutter at the assault, eager to flee the overwhelming pleasure that wreaks havoc on your body—but Dean’s keen on the idea of overstaying your welcome, so the arms curled around your thighs yank you back down. And you’re spent—weak—so you have no choice but to melt back into him.

“And where d’ya think you’re goin’?” He drawls, tossing out a lazy chuckle of triumph as his arms flex to trap your thighs against him.

And then he welcomes you back like an old friend—with open lips that wrap around your core in a fervid slurp. His jaw kneads into you with utmost appreciation as he scrambles to lap up the mingle of arousal and saliva, his throat rumbling with a groan of satisfaction. Fulfilment.

“Fuck, Dean!” Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt that—much to your frustration—shield his skin from the revenge of your pawing nails. But you try, anyway—fingers flexing against his flesh like talons that seem driven to latch onto him and never let go. Your jaw slacks with a huff, and then a confession. “Enough teasing. . . I want to—need to come!”

As if Dean suddenly remembers that air is just as vital to his existence as the taste of you is, his lips free you with a harsh inhale before the deep rumble of his voice rifts the hot air. “Then come f’me, baby,” he pants against you, gently palming your thighs as an act of encouragement. “Hell, y’know I’ll be waitin’.”

Your hot frustration allows you to abide—but on your own terms.

With a final squeeze of his shirt-clad abdomen, you push yourself up from your wilted position of support, and Dean’s grip on your thighs tighten to aid your ascent.

“What’re you up to, now?” He chuckles lowly, green eyes glistening cartoonishly as he gazes up at you in curious awe, his thumbs tracing circles of adoration along your adrenaline-puckered skin.

You hover yourself over him, hands coming forward to bracket his jaw in a gentle cradle. He instantly leans into the touch, eyes briefly fluttering closed as he bathes in the sensation of you, and then he’s back to memorising your every feature with a stare that isolates you from the rest of the world.

Like you’re his world.

“Just go with it,” you murmur through a toothy grin packed with schemes.

Dean’s eyes narrow in consideration as he hums a soft, “Mhm.” And then his throat bops thickly, like he’s a tad bit unsure. But he trusts you, so he listens, anyways.

Your grin broadens at his compliance, one hand falling away from his jaw while the other glides over his cheek, temple, and finally into the field of his unruly hair. There, your fingers tangle with as many strands you can gather—and Dean’s gaze remains steadfast on you through it all.

“You want another taste?” You tease softly, hips lifting from the support of his chest in a purposeful display.

Deans eyes stagger down to the pot of gold looming over him, lip falling loose under the addictive pull of you. His chest heaves a helpless huff. “Screw a freakin’ taste—I want it all,” he confesses in a solemn murmur, eyes flickering back up to you with the ghost of a plea, while his hands tighten around your thighs in want. Need.

And you obey.

Your hand in his hair tightens, and Dean lets slip a strained grunt—a noise you bottle and treasure as the memoir of his undoing. Your eyes bore into his—eager and hungry—as you slowly sink yourself down onto him, and the contact is only broken when your head falters back at the feeling of his mouth enveloping you.

“Shit,” you breathe, eyes screwing shut as your hips begin to sway back and forth along the expanse of his face. And below you, Dean stills into an object of use, the grip on your thighs lax enough to accommodate every driven sweep and pull of your mound against him.

But his mouth—it doesn’t yield any control. His jaw nuzzles into your swaying form, tongue flicking along your drenched anatomy in a flurry that has no purpose other than to ruin you. And then he grows decidedly meaner by firming up his grip on you once more, crushing you against him until he’s swallowing groans and stuttering for air.

Like he’s drowning.

You lift your hips in an attempt to give him some air, but Dean’s grip on you only tightens to the point of no return—forbids. He pulls you back against him, jaw hungrily swivelling into your folds as his grip on your thighs will you to continue riding him in waves.

So you do.

Your hips sway and drag along his face, catching the hump of his nose in a vicious collision that tugs a moan from your lips. Every. single. time. And you don’t stop—neither does he. Even when his lungs beg it of him. Even as you hear him gasp for air below you. And you realise, then—

That Dean is drowning. But he doesn’t want—or need any rescuing.

He’s right where he wants to be.

──────────────────────

a/n ─ pls i missed my dean bby <3 if this is bad then don’t tell me bc i wrote this quick stix on and off between study breaks🤞special shoutout to my bby @deansbeer, this one goes out to u and i 😭. and what if this page becomes a munch hub? can you tell i have an M.O???? word. also this is not the munch drabble part i have been talking about for dean—this is just something born entirely from a moment of hormones LMAO.

thank you for reading! all likes & comments are deeply appreciated, but reblogs go a much longer way—so please support your writers with it! <3

tags ─ @gibson-g1rl @bohemianblasphemy @fallbhind @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @figthoughts @ultravi0lence14 @angelicjackles @starzify @rositaslabyrinth @walkslikesummeractslikerain @daylighted @honeyryewhiskey @deansbbyx @jasvtsc @maddie0101 @lieutenantchaos @spn-reader @bakugotypecrashout @jaydensluv @youdontknowe @misatxox @lixiesbrowniess @ilovedeanwinchester4 @spoontriestowriteandfails @beelzebzb @piptoost @lunaleah @kr804573 @idontwannabehere7 @lanasgirlfr @cas-only-angel @nperoconelcositoarriba @alidiggory92 @idk-123-0 @mahi-wayy @tuxedoe @cassiecourtemanche @rositaslabyrinth @abox-of-rocks @viluren @soldiersgirl @h8aaz @cowboysandcigarettes @bejeweledinterludes

want to become part of the taglist for any future dean winchester works?

other works ─ supernatural masterlist

© bluemerakis ─ do not plagiarise or steal any of my works.

[backwardshatnick]

in which the friendship blossoms into something that is never addressed.

notes: fluff!!! matt and bloom are somewhere around the ages of 15-17 in this. but chat..... i fear i have lost my funny...... click here for series masterlist <3 divider by koosuvi as always!

The high school hallway was sun-warmed, the glow casting a homely shadow to each passerby as the air drifted with a gentle scent of iced coffee, Bath and Body Works body mist and recently mowed grass. The bell was about to ring, signalling the start of the next study period and when it finally did, it had sent all the students scampering to their respective classrooms, lest they get reprimanded with a late slip.

Among the scurrying footsteps of teenagers, stood one stationary boy, posture frigid as his hands fiddled with the blue lock of the small metal compartment. A few rows to his right, a girl had stopped in her tracks staring at him from afar while leaning against a drinking fountain, mind contemplating onto whether she should save his day.

“Why won’t this stupid thing just open?” Matt uttered, frustrated and movement careless as he kept on twisting the damned combination.

Bloom finally approached him, quiet as a mouse but intentions pure.

“Still can’t open it?”

Matt exhaled, “This thing is obviously rigged. Really has been cursed since the 90s.”

“Or maybe you just suck at the left-right-right-left movement,” she answered.

He gave her her way, allowing her to take the lock from his fingers, her nails slightly brushing his fingertips. Matt pretends to not notice and observes Bloom’s magic onto the bolt, finally knocking the locker twice for an extra effect, “There you go.”

“Witch!”

Bloom let out a small laugh, fixing the strap on her backpack before turning her heels, “You’re welcome.”

Ever since the locker antics, they happen to just find each other in each step, as if orbiting just tight enough to graze but never close enough to fall.

Sharing a class in Algebra led to tiny doodles on the corners of each others’ notes.

Being paired for English Literature meant that the shared copy of The Great Gatsby was always plastered with Post-It notes, all scribbled with messy handwriting with promising sentences to meet each other after school when they get separated for their next class.

Let’s get Slurpees soon. - M. P.s.: I’m getting you the cherry. It’s my favourite.

They sat on the curb by the convenience store, Bloom fidgeting with her maroon corduroy skirt, a weak attempt at covering herself more while she sipped on her slush. Her thighs were now closed tight together as she balanced herself on the concrete, her legs pushed to one side to avoid any unwanted accidents.

“Hey,” Matt said, startled as he put his drink on the pavement and fished his own backpack to pull out a white lacrosse jersey, “Take this. It might stink a bit after practice, but at least it’s something to cover you up, kid.”

Somewhere between midterms and exam preparations, Matt tends to find himself sat next to Bloom at the bleachers during lunch. Or whenever he had a break from lacrosse practice, away from his own circle of friends. Sometimes, he would playfully bump her shoulder to which she bumped back, almost toppling each other off the cheap school benches.

“That’s criminal,” Bloom scoffed, “I almost got killed!”

He would laugh at her jokes, letting her head slowly tip onto his shoulder. Her hair slightly tickling his neck. But Matt was a boy of perseverance, though he was not sure entirely why he was that persistent. Something within himself itched, whispering into his ear like an outsider pretending to be his inner voice. His uninvited monologue drowning the slow music which was playing through their shared earphones.

They did not speak whenever they listen to the shared playlists— not that they need to. The rhythm and lyrics were enough to fill in their silent conversation as his hand rested near hers, almost touching. She would notice the way their fingers twitched towards each other, especially the way hers was but suddenly retreating as Matt never grabbed them.

Neither Bloom, nor Matt ever established a label to themselves. They never kissed in public but she would never forget the one time she unlocked Matt’s locker to place a small lip balm wrapped with a pale blue bow, cherry-flavoured just how he likes his Slurpees and his kisses.

And similarly, Matt would sometimes leave her bookmarks, handmade with tiny pressed flowers and carefully laminated with transparent plastic and a small satin ribbon tied through the punched hole. One day it was stalks of baby's breaths, another time it was soft cream roses all arranged on a sliver of recycled card. But it was never complete until he leaves a small note written in matching gel ink, the loopy, slanted penmanship obviously belonging to a confident 11th grader.

She opened her locker, the small white envelope greeting her with a note:

Bloom, because of course I had to. Check inside. Don’t freak out, it’s not drugs. - M :) P.s.: Kid, you really need a proper bookmark, I’m tired of seeing you use those faded paper receipts. P.p.s.: Can you help me out with Geo later? Mr. Finnigan gave me this weird h/w and I know you have a knack for volcanoes & tsunamis.

ꫂ❁ @oopsiedaisydeer @bbgirlmatt @courta13 @mattspillowprincess

[lenallu]

I'll hear you.

❅ tags: angst, hurt/no comfort, death, grief ❅ word count: 776 ❅ synopsis: Zayne takes you to the park when you're sick for some fresh air and sunlight. You find a way to express your love without words. ❅ a/n: this was written to the song futile devices - sufjan stevens

"You have to stop talking. You need to rest your voice, or you won't be able to talk at all." He pauses to consider something, then picks up a small knife from beside you.

"Actually, that might not be so bad." He cuts into the crisp apple's core, pulling out a section and handing it to you with a subtle smile pulling at his lips.

You laugh and push his shoulder before taking the offered slice from his fingers and biting into it. "But how will I tell you I love you? I don't want you to forget." You say hoarsely.

He sets the apple down onto the newspaper and looks out at the luscious park. He thinks for a moment, allowing silence to settle before looking back at you.

"You won't have to say it. Just look at me, like this. I'll hear you."

There's a devastating tenderness in his voice as he leans toward you slightly, his eyes locked onto yours. He spoke softly, as if sharing a secret. The remnants of your laughter soften in your expression as the love in his voice saturates you. Like a milk cake drenched in heavy cream, drowning in sweetness and crumbling upon the slightest touch.

"When you talk to me like that, I feel like I've been caught in the rain." You pause to watch confusion take root behind his eyes.

"Vulnerable, soggy. Embraced by the beauty of the world around me. It's too much for my heart. Would it kill you to act like you hate me every once in a while?"

He laughs a little, and leans back on his hands, allowing the sun to bathe him as he closes his eyes.

"It might."

🜺

The frost has seized him. Fear, anger, and envy flashed through your body at the sight of the frost encasing, embracing his body. You follow the trail of ice up his limbs with your eyes, leading you to where it had crept up the column of his neck.

You hurry forward, your hands coming up to hold his face in your warmth. The cold did not relent, and continued to consume him. Your breath trembled against his skin under the treachery of the frigid and wintry howling winds beating against your back. You wish there was a way to save him, you wish you knew what to do to make this less painful for him. To let him rest with some kind of peace. You want to say you love him, but can't see those words being anything but agonizing right now.

Warm memories of what he said that time in the park flood into your mind, and everything in you aches. Your chin lifts, and you find his eyes fastened to yours with wavering intensity as the biting cold spreads within his body, slowly capturing his consciousness.

The storm roars, as if to fend you off. The fear in his expression is palpable, and new. You've never seen him so terrified. Everything about this moment demands you to run, but your feet stay planted firmly in the snow. You don't make an effort to say anything, but you instead adhere your gaze to his as intensely as you can as your fingers caress his cheek, trembling. Recognition falls over his features at what you were trying to communicate, and sparkling tears begin to underline his hazel green eyes. A pained breath breaks from your mouth and panic floods into you at your misstep. You didn't want him to leave you like this with sadness in his heart. You didn't want him to cry.

Small flecks of ice break and fly from his skin as his jaw moves slightly. His voice comes out quiet, and you strain to hear him against the wind, but you do.

"I…love..you…too." It comes out, broken and pained, and he goes completely rigid as the frost makes its final advances.

In those last moments, he chose against his usual silent acknowledgement of your affection. Not because he felt words were any more powerful than the gazes you shared, but because years from now, he wanted you to know unquestionably that he heard you. He wanted his last words spoken among this universe to lay with you, for you to hold and remember, and never doubt the eternity of love between you.

You cry out, and your heart shatters in a way that feels so final as he leaves you. Your hands never part from him, and you pull yourself onto the tip of your toes to press one last kiss to his skin.

The storm becomes more violent. You have to go.

[sserpente]

My little assassin

You share the bed with Gortash after you rejected Bhaal, and the Chosen of Bane makes the mistake of making it known to you that he is rather disappointed in your decision. Perhaps he needs to be reminded of his place...

A/N: I’ve done it. It’s too late now. Gortash wrapped me around his finger. Oh well. Enjoy this little piece. It’s literally based on a dream I had and when I woke up, I was like… 😲 I have to write this!

Words: 710 Warnings: implied smut, mentions of death, blood, murder, decapitation and necrophilia, evil Durge!Tav/Reader (duh)

It was strange, the concept of freedom. Considering all your sins, it was a feeling soaked in both relief and uncertainty to know that the next time your weapon struck, it would be because you willed it so—not because the God of Murder urged you to carry out his bloodthirsty message to the world. But for the first time in too long… you felt at peace, bathing in the silence this new-found freedom brought.

With an audible sigh, you stretched your naked body in the soft satin sheets. Dusk was near, you could see the last sunrays retreating and slowly drowning Gortash’s chambers in comfortable and soothing darkness.

For just a moment, everything felt right. Like you’d never been gone, never been backstabbed by Orin, never been abducted… never ended up with a damn tadpole in your head… never suffered from amnesia.

Your memories were taking their sweet time to come back to you still. But you were getting there. Bits and pieces, crumbs of information your own brain was withholding from you began to form a bigger picture.

If there was one puzzle piece, however, that had already fallen back in place, it was that Enver Gortash and you shared a history that went well beyond an amenable alliance. You were rather unfamiliar with the concept of love and so was he. What you had was a filthy connection made of lust, greed, and lechery. But you liked him—more than you wished to admit. There was no doubt you would viciously slaughter anyone who dared to touch him. Only one person was allowed to kill or fuck him—and that person was you.

“Tell me, what are you thinking about, my little assassin?” His raspy voice was accompanied by the faint rustling of the bed sheets as he turned to face you.

“You. Me. My past. The life that lies ahead of me now that I’m free to do what I wish.”

“Is that so…” he responded with slight dismay, “In all honesty, my dear, it’s a shame you rejected the God of Murder. To be Bhaal’s Chosen… an honour and a responsibility that would have kept you invincible… and more powerful than ever, fit to rule by my side.”

The sudden anger surging within you felt like daggers made of ice boring into your chest. Enver was many things but he was no fighter. He was a cunning politician with a hand for charming people into what he wanted. Before he even had a chance to react, you had already pinned him down on the mattress, straddling him. Your hand closed around his throat, squeezing just hard enough to cut off his air supply but not hard enough to keep him from speaking.

“Do you think I turned good? That I want to become a hero now? That I rejected Bhaal because I could no longer bear the thought of my sins? Oh no,” you spat, “From now on forth, my sins are my own, not Bhaal’s. You’d do well to remember that and respect my decision, Chosen of Bane because as much as I enjoy the idea of your warm corpse drenching the sheets in blood, I’m not much for necrophilia.”

Enver swallowed, and you could feel his Adam’s apple dance beneath your palm. There was a sliver of panic in his dark eyes—it was one thing you liked about him. He’d never underestimate you or what you were capable of. “Of course. You can… let go now, my little assassin.”

You obeyed—for it would indeed be a pity if your renewed companion withered away so quickly. You had no intention whatsoever to kill him just yet, if ever. Still, when you voiced your threat to give your hazardous anger a vent, you knew deep down that you were not lying. “Do not question me again or I will start questioning whether your head should remain attached to your body.”

Gortash laughed, a sound you enjoyed for it usually expressed his admiration for your ruthlessness; and just like that, another snippet of information dripped into your mind. You remembered. You used to enjoy him praising your cruel savagery. You made a good team, you and him. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

[sanjoongie]

⇄◀𓊕▶↻Now Playing: TOMORROW X TOGETHER - 0X1=LOVESONG (I Know I Love You)

⇄◀𓊕▶↻Inspiration taken from lyrics: In this world of ice/ You're the only (one) shining glow/ Now I can't stop thinking 'bout you/ When I'm sinking alone

⇄◀𓊕▶↻Track One for @lapydiariesnet Sad Boys Club event

⇄◀𓊕▶↻Pairing: Lee Heeseung (Enhypen) x Reader (f)

⇄◀𓊕▶↻Genre: angst, romance

⇄◀𓊕▶↻Au: fantasy au, magic au

⇄◀𓊕▶↻Trope: soulmates

⇄◀𓊕▶↻Rating: 18+, MDNI

⇄◀𓊕▶↻Word Count: 2,286

⇄◀𓊕▶↻Warnings: drowning, mentions of death

⇄◀𓊕▶↻Summary: Heeseung is your soulmate, your Amplifier, and he must find you to complete the link between your magics, as his Beacon. All he has to do is follow your bond like a glowing fire in his minds eye, be it through the dangerous, cold world, and then you two can be complete. He'll do whatever it takes to be with you. But will you accept him?

⇄◀𓊕▶↻Author's Note: special thanks to @anyamaris for listening to me babble about this idea until it was fully formed 🥺 she helped me immensely and i couldn't have posted this without her

⇄◀𓊕▶↻Divider by @cafekitsune

Heeseung braces himself against the constant onslaught of pins and needles to his face. He is not built to endure this kind of storm, nor this kind of weather, but he does it all for you. 

He closes his eyes, and in the darkness, he can see your glowing self. Still very far off but there. 

You’re his Beacon and he is your Amplifier. In magical terms, you have magical blood but until your Amplifier finds you, you will never reach your true potential. That’s why Heeseung is in this gods-forsaken cold, searching for you. 

It had been years since he started to see your glow behind closed eyelids. For years, he could taste when you were enjoying a delicious meal, smell the flower-scented soap you use when you bathed, feel the warmth of the sun when you enjoyed a nice day. 

But for some reason, the two of you never found each other. It was typical, upon bond engagement, that the Beacon and the Amplifier would go on a pilgrimage to find each other so that they could complete the bond. 

Heeseung was getting anxious. In fact, he was getting bond sickness. The longer he spent away from you, the more sick he got. Every single moment spent away from you had him hyper focus on you. Sometimes he spent hours focusing on the bond, focusing on you, trying to get a sense of why the two of you weren’t bonding.

Eventually, Heeseung stumbled upon the realization that you were not in the southern part of the continent where he lived, Terre du Fer. You must be trapped in the continent above: La Mer Gelée, the iced sea. Heeseung’s heart clenched at the thought of you having to endure such hardships. 

And so began his journey to you. It is his job as your Amplifier to do whatever it takes to find you. But Heeseung can feel it in his soul, more than anything, that he needs to be with you. His bond sickness allows him no reprieve from thinking about you.   

You are so close, he can almost taste you on the tip of his tongue. When he connects with you through your bond, it is like you are just on the other side of a wall; so close but still a barrier between the two of you. 

Heeseung is getting frantic with need. He has to feel you under his fingertips. He needs his lips to cover every inch of your skin. He longs for your voice to soothe his very soul. 

Heeseung needs you.

Didn’t you need him?

With one foot in the world of the living, and another focusing on his bond, Heeseung literally plunges his foot through too-thin ice. His body goes into the semi-frozen body of water, sinking immediately under his many layers to protect his body from the cold. Despite that, the water seeps in, his fingers and toes the first to lose their warmth. The cold attacks him like daggers to his vitals. 

And yet, his only thought is that he will miss his chance to finally meet you. 

Heeseung closes his eyes one last time, searching out your glow in the darkness. Just as his lungs push out his final breath, he smiles serenely. Your glow is bright, taking over his vision. Perhaps this is his destiny; to be released from this realm and for his magic to combine with yours. He could accept his fate if it meant he was helping you in any way. 

“Goddamn it, wake up!” A melodious voice pulls Heeseung out of unconsciousness.

His eyes flutter in an attempt to open them but he feels weak and drained. Is this what it feels like to wake up in the afterlife?

There is a warmth moving over his body. He pulls a face as pain lances through his body. Wait, if he is dead, why is he feeling pain?

“I don’t know what possessed you to come find me,” You continue to grumble. “I was doing fine without you. I don’t need you.”

Heeseung’s bond flares in his chest and he doesn’t need to open his eyes. His entire eyelids are painted with fireworks. He’s found you. He’s finally found you.

“Bea…con…” Heeseung whispers hoarsely.

You sigh heavily. “Good. You’re not dead. I’m not sure what would happen to me if that happened.”

All Heeseung wants is to open his eyes, to see your face, but he finds himself falling back into unconsciousness.

Not before hearing you say, “Great. How useful are you?”

“Wakey wakey,” You say flatly.

Heeseung feels something pressing to his lips. He opens them without thought and feels something warm coat his tongue. 

“It’s broth. I did what I could. I happened to have a couple of soup pouches on me since I was going fishing. You’re lucky it was me who found you, you know. It’s not every day you come across a fire witch in La Mer Gelée.”

Heeseung swallows the magical brew and hums in contentment. To hear your voice, to have you tend to him, to feel your hands bracing his head up, he couldn't be happier. 

He suddenly struggles at the thought that you had to save him. Did you jump into the cold water after him? Were you okay?

“Whoa whoa whoa,” You squeal, pushing down on his chest. “Don’t move so much. You’re barely recovering as is.”

Heeseung absorbs the feel of the palm of your hand against his chest. His bare chest. 

His eyes snap open. His breathing becomes laboured and his heart pounds against his chest as if it’s attempting to escape. His lips part in awe as he takes in your visage at last. He whines and his eyebrows furrow. 

“Please,” he whispers.

Your eyes widen at the sudden adoration beaming from his eyes. You quickly avoid his gaze. “I’ll fix you up and then you’ll leave this place.”

Heeseung shakes his head adamantly. “No, please don’t. I’m finally here. We can complete the bond and then your power will grow--”

A dark chuckle tumbles from your lips. Heeseung knows what you’re about to say is cruel but even pain from you feels good already. “I don’t think so. I’m fine without you. I have my magic power. I even saved you using it. There’s no need.”

Heeseung’s hands gently settle on your hand, still pinning him to the ground. “There’s a need.” He swallows heavily. “You’re my Beacon. I am incomplete without you. I need to complete my role. I need you.”

You shake your head. “You’re simply reiterating what we’ve all been told. I feel nothing of the sort.”

You shift your body intending on moving away but Heeseung clings to you. He sits up, eyes fluttering close as he gets dizzy from the motion. He sways but you catch him.

“I told you! You’re not ready yet. You have to sleep.” You lower his body back to the warm furs you have him covered in. “Sleep.”

Despite your clear distaste of Heeseung, you still nurse him back to health. Heeseung can see it in the way your face would settle into pity, that you feel responsible for his current state. 

But Heeseung is struggling. Perhaps if he was back in his warm world, he would have healed faster. His strength never seems to regain and he fades, even with the fire you stroke so hot it makes you sweat through your clothes. No amount of food or water helps either. Heeseung is starting to see his veins through his paper skin. 

How cruel is fate to finally bring you two together, only for you to reject him, and for him to fade from this world without even completing his duty?

Even worse, there is nothing Heeseung can do. Slumber continuously pulls him in. Any energy he has is put towards drinking and eating. You won’t let him get a word in edgewise to convince you that your fates are intertwined.

Why did you even save him?

“Goddamn it!” You throw the empty tin bowl and spoon you have been using to feed him with against the inside of the dome that is your shelter. “Why aren't you getting better?!”

All Heeseung can manage is to reach out to you. Even in this state, even though you won't complete the bond, he still only wants to comfort you. What he felt for you transcended any natural feeling. You two are connected through the magicks of this world. 

He feels his eyes tear up and his vision becomes blurry. “You complete me.”

Your lips press into a thin line. “I don't understand you. You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?”

Heeseung’s throat tightens with emotion as your rejection slices him up. “You don't need me?”

“If this is a trick, I will slowly roast you alive,” You grumble.

Heeseung lets out a weak chuckle. He likes your fiery nature in protest of the icy world you were born in. Even if he were to be burned by your flame, it was better than your indifference to him.

You close your eyes and lean down, noses almost touching. You breathe in deeply and release it in an even count. Heeseung closes his eyes with you, almost blinded by your brilliance. 

Before, Heeseung had to focus acutely on the bond to feel his connection to you but suddenly… your anxiety floods him, he can feel how sweaty your palms are, even the bitter beans of the coffee you had drunk earlier. He doesn’t even have to try, they are just there, swimming around in his skull. And they weren’t going away.

Heeseung opens his eyes, only to see your face covered in one emotion: open wonder. 

“Is…is this what you were feeling?” You whisper. 

Heeseung nods slowly, unable to understand what was happening. “Did you not?”

“I shut down the bond a long time ago. I didn’t want--”

Heeseung shot upwards. His fingertips simply tingle with energy. He grabs you in a tight hug, tucking his head onto your shoulder, face turned away from you. He feels strong, he feels complete. He knew, he simply knew that you had completed the bond. You had done it to save him. 

“Thank you,” He says hoarsely, overcome with emotion. 

You are stiff in his grasp. “I guess I should be thanking you. I can practically feel my powers surging through me.”

Heeseung pushes back far enough that he can read your face again. “Can you show me?”

The two of you bundle up in protective gear and then make your way outside the dome that had been your shelter for the entire time you had been trying to heal Heeseung. Heeseung has yet to truly see your power, only aware that you were keeping everything warm and the fire going with it. 

You turn your head side to side, cracking it in preparedness. You point your finger to a white peak from away from the two of you. “Do you see that glacier?”

Heeseung nods slowly in acknowledgement. Surely you aren’t--

BOOM

The glacier ignites in blue flames, white chunks flying into the air, as if it had erupted itself. Heeseung can see a small, satisfied smile pulling at your lips before it’s gone by the time you turn to him. 

“I have met my true potential. This is clearly a day for the books.” Your voice is so bereft of any glee that it pains Heeseung. 

“You don’t feel…anything?” Heeseung wonders hopefully.  

How was it that he is completely devoted to you and yet you feel none of his?

“I feel…” You chew on your bottom lip. “I feel how much you adore me. I feel…” You shook your head, unsure. 

“I can prove it to you,” Heeseung promises.

You sigh heavily, like Heeseung is a burden. “Heeseung, you almost lost your life in your attempt to prove your love for me. I think that’s enough.”

“But--!”

“Heeseung,” You say firmly, in a quieter tone. 

You reach out to take his hand, your hot air coming out in small plumes of mist from your parted lips. Heeseung’s heart restricts for this simple moment. 

“There’s a saying amongst my people. They say that a spark starts a fire but it is the embers that continue burning. Do you know what that means?” You raise your eyes and there is something there that’s never been there before. 

Heeseung feels a fluttering in his stomach. Is it his feelings or yours? He shakes his head once again. 

“It means that even though I do not feel an instant chemistry with you, your love for me might bloom into something longer lasting than attraction. If it’s true that we are fated soulmates, that it goes beyond you making me more than what I am, then aren’t we destined to love each other?” You offer.

“Only…” Heeseung takes a hesitant step forward. “Only if you’re open to me.”

You chuckle darkly. “I opened our bond, Heeseung.”

Another step has his boots knocking against yours. “I need your heart open for me as well,” he persists.

You nod imperceptibly. “I will. I’ll try.”

Heeseung raises his gloved hands to cup your face. “I will be there to catch you. I will always be here for you. You can trust me.”

You let him slot his lips against yours, gently pressing his love into your skin. He does it only once, not looking to push his luck, but simply to reassure you.

And by the slightly dazed look in your eyes, perhaps he’s done just that. 

Heeseung laughs softly under his breath. You truly are a wonder. His wonder. And he hoped to be yours as well.

⇄◀𓊕▶↻Next: Han Jisung - Craving

[joanaa--filipaaa]

A new beginning - Baji Keisuke & Chifuyu Matsuno

Characters: Baji & Chifuyu of Tokyo Revengers Theme: Sadness, love, affection, anxiety, depression, suicide attempt, sensitive content, new beginning, overcoming.

Word count: 907

__________

Here I am, sitting on the balcony of our building, drowning in my little box of memories, remembering all our moments.

I catch our first photo, when we were 8 years old, making faces at the new camera that his mother had just bought. I remember that that day we had gone to the ice cream store, I bought you, with your allowance, a good strawberry ice cream. You tasted mine and I tasted yours, I can't look at the chocolate ice cream with vanilla without remembering you. I move on to another photo, in this little polaroid we were 9 years old, we were about to enter our new school when my parents had the magnificent idea of taking a picture of us, me crying because I didn't want to go to the shit of that hell, and you were consoling me, saying that regardless of anything you were going to stay with me for all the time, making me feel good.

Another one appears, it was at my 10th birthday party. That photo marked the moment before you sent me with my cake in my own face, me smiling and you already holding the cake, about to get me all dirty, I remember that at that moment I was upset with you, but at this moment I just wanted you to throw my birthday cake in my face again. Another photo is revealed, this one already 13, you in the uniform of the Toman, proud to wear that costume that only brought you problems, and death.

I take the most recent, the one from our last meeting, the one from our first time, the night I gave you a piece of me and you gave me a piece of you, when you made me yours, and I made you mine. Little did I know that this would be the first and last time I would feel you, touch you and kiss you. Already drooling, snot and tears, I tighten our commitment necklace, the one you gave me before you left me.

With your last words in my head, "I'll be fine, just take care of yourself! He thinks that soon we will be together again. I promise you that at night I will make you scream louder, I want all my neighbors to know that you are mine! I love you more than anything Yn, don't forget me… Never." I scream, "I just want you back! I just want you back! I JUST WANT YOU BACK FUCKING BACK! COME BACK TO ME KEISUKE! " " YN! " I hear a familiar voice, but I don't care, I just want to go to my baji's side, I just want to go to his arms.

I run to the edge of the building" Throw yourself down! Go to your boyfriend go! Kill you Yn! Will! Will! Will! " The voices get louder with each passing second, I just want this to end, until a comfort hits me. "Shh, it's okay…"He says grabbing me, pulling me to the ground, far away from the edge, hugging me tightly.

Chi-Chifuyu. I want him.. Back! " "I know, I want him too Yn. But think he's in a better place, I'm sure that right now he's here hugging you, along with me." The boy starts to caress me on my back, making me calmer, only keisuke could calm me down, but now, chifuyu could too, and I'm very grateful for that. "I… I hope he's here now! I wish I could tell you how much I love you! Even after 6 years since that horrible day… I still can't stand the pain! I.. I just wanted to see him one more time… Kiss him just one more time… Play it just one more time.. I'm tired.. "

"He knows that you love him a lot, he also loves you a lot, because he also did that to save you Yn. Now I think it's better to enter.. It's getting cold and a certain girl can get sick! " He says already standing up, taking me along. "Ye-yes"

__________

After calming down, I went to take a relaxing bath, while I dried off, Chiuyu started to make our dinner, until I decided to talk to him about something that was already in my head "Chifuyu?" "Hm?" "Why have you taken care of me since that day?" "Well… Baji, he made me promise one thing. If it ended as it did, I had to take care of you for the rest of my life…" "Ah.. I… I didn't know that…" "Yes.. It was a secret of our own… "I… I would like to live the rest of my life with you chifuyu.. " "Ahh.. Why?! "

"You make me feel safe… As Baji also made me… I feel that being with you is the same as being with baji… " "Oh… Yes Yn, I understand." Chifuyu and I stared at each other and started eating our meal. After we finished, we went to wash the dishes, while he washed, I dried. Our hands would sometimes growl like this, making us blush. Until the specific time our hands touched again, chifuyu grabbed her and looked at me, we stared deeply and then kissed.

__________

Meanwhile, Baji Keisuke sees the loves of their lives start over. Happy and at peace, Baji left for good, thus going to another world, being able to rest, ceasing to wander in the lives of Yn and Chifuyu. Perhaps this is a new beginning, after a long good and depressing chapter has closed.

[dearsnow]

HEAVEN

- you’re the closest to heaven that johnny cade will ever get, and the night sky begins to urge his feelings past the brink of overthinking. (johnny cade x gn!reader, fluff but a little achy, ooc dialogue because it’s meant to be poetic)

word count: 694

a/n- another fic based on a song, how classic asther of me 😭 this one is iris by the goo goo dolls. i hope y’all enjoy because i remembered that this song existed and thought, “oh my god i can make a hyperfixation fic out of this”! and i did. this is also barely proofread so 💀 love you guys <3

It is a particularly dark night, one where the stars shine like bright pinpricks in the sky and the moon is as plump and full as a perfectly ripe fruit. It’s cold, as well, with a delightful shiver that makes you shrink into the jean jacket wrapped around your shoulders.

You’re staring up into the inky blackness, and Johnny Cade is staring at you. The soft moonlight bathes you in a glow that he believes is unmatched by any earthly thing. His heart beats in his chest, fast and loud. His fingers brush by yours, a cold contrast to the warmth of your palms.

When you wrap your hands around his, remarking that he must be freezing, he thinks that he could die of a heart attack at any moment. If he could stare into your eyes just like this, though, he would die a happy man. Words unsaid bubble in the pits of your souls, so much so that Johnny can feel them tumbling off his tongue before he can even think about the topic of two seconds ago. He opens his mouth, inhibitions damned.

“I don’t want to go home. Not now, not ever. I want to stay here with you until Hell freezes over.” He murmurs. He loves you, and he knows it. The blanket underneath his jeans is just soft enough to be comfortable, and the picnic basket by his feet is long-forgotten, and you look up at him with eyes full of wonder.

In all honesty, you don’t want to go home either. Being with Johnny is like having someone know the most intimate parts of you just by glancing at a fraction of your face. He is, unlike all others, most completely in tune with everything you are thinking. And through time and effort and patience, you know him like the back of your hand as well. He is the kindest boy you have ever met, and if you had to ice the underworld to stay in his presence, you would do it in a heartbeat.

The air around his face is clouded with his soft breaths, and you move closer, placing his hands in your lap. “I feel the same way.”

“You’re just… the closest to Heaven that I’ll ever be. I want you all the time, every day.” His voice is rough, just like his palms. You cannot think of a sweeter sound, and it forces you to bare your mind to him.

“And you can have me.” You smile, and yet your next words come out with a little hesitation. “I love you. I ache for you, really. I want you to be like this all the time, open and confident in the things that you’re sure of, because you can always be sure that I’m here. I want you to be gold. Good and soft and true.” Your voice wobbles at the end of the last sentence, and it sends a pang through Johnny’s stomach. He leans his head on your shoulder. If he could be anything, do anything, he would want to be with you.

Your heart swells when he touches you, gently, like he always does. He brushes a stray blade of grass away from the spot next to your ear. “If I’m gold, you’re an angel sent straight from the place up high.”

A laugh rings from your stomach, bounding into the night. He smiles.

“If I’m an angel,” you ask, “can you be my gold necklace? Right over my heart? Or are they not allowed the frivolities of mortal life?”

He hums, looking up at the sky and then back down to you. “I think you’d be allowed anything, so long as you keep being the greatest angel I’ve ever known.”

You run a small lock of his hair through your fingers as the stars directly above you shine through the clouds trying to drown out their light. “I’m flattered.” You say. “If I am an angel, and you are my necklace, I believe that any place could be heaven.”

His lips pull at the corners to form a sort of sad-happy smile. “I hope so. I really, really hope so.”

[hamatosami]

“Eternal Flame” TMNT FANFICTION

1| discovery

Notes: I'm so happy and proud to present my first finalized and edited chapter of this book! It feels good to finally put out something I'm proud of. Anastasia is a character I've worked years to develop. I'm so excited to share the rest of the story with you guys. The chapters may be longer due to the rewriting. I'm sure you guys won't mind.

Links:

👈🏼 previous chapter 

     Never in my life did I believe that I would be fighting side by side against the one and only Eric Sacks. Although, I found myself helplessly agreeing to it and everything in my soul told me not to. I sloppily swirled my rocks glass around, suddenly not entertained by the idea of intoxication anymore. I let the ice water down my liquor until it was no longer desirable. No matter how many sips I took, it couldn't drown the bitter taste in my mouth. My heart rested in my throat, waiting to explode. Head leaning heavy against my other hand. I bit the inside of my cheek due to feeling on edge.

Eric is most definitely hiding something.

It couldn't be true. The idea of mutant ninja turtles. Although, I couldn't deny the pictures he showed me. I found my glass to be empty again.

"I'll have another." My voice sounded more rugged than usual. Eric's hand pushed mine back down unto the bar top.

"Actually, we'll just get the tab. All on one." I ruggedly gave him the death stare for shutting me off. "You've had enough." He concluded.

I dramatically flinched my hand away from his

"You're right. I have had enough." I began to walk away, heading towards the door and my bike after a pretty defeating night. Eric ran in front of me.

"You shouldn't drive Anna. At least let me take you home."

I laughed at his audacity. Surly he couldn't be joking.

"There's a mugging on 5th. I have to check it out." My ear bud rang in all sorts of information at just the right time, giving me the perfect excuse to leave the vicinity.

"I can't let anything happen to you." Eric took ahold of my arm one more time. At this point I was way past annoyed. Only because I could hear in his voice that he wasn't genuine at all. He took a frustrated sigh. "They call you the Hachiman." He said low into my ear.

"Who does?"

"The Foot. They're not very happy with what you've been doing."

"They need a better name." I pushed. Not taking this seriously.

"I'm just trying to help you." He positioned. Although, I could hear it in his voice that he wasn't being very truthful.

"You don't have to be nice to me Eric. No amount of kindness will ever atone for the years of abandonment and hate you projected onto Zayne, your very own brother. It was your job to look after him, but I ended up picking up every piece and holding him together while you bathed in your undeserving wealth." I walked closer to him now feeling suddenly sober. "I won't allow you to fix your guilt through me. That pain. That ache that just won't go away. You deserve to live with that." I huffed finding my fists tight. "Now get out of my way." I warned once.

Without saying a single word he stepped aside as I walked away to my bike. Leaving into my beloved city.

———————————————————

Ultimately, I woke up relatively early despite

going to bed so late. Mascara smudged from the night before and a pounding headache that greeted me the moment I opened my eyes. My heart sank deeper into my chest, heaving heavy with slow and steady beats.

God what the hell did I agree to?

The idea that I was about to singly handedly take down a robbery by The Foot tonight was strikingly scary. I couldn't understand why, it's not the first time I've tried to stop them. Shockingly, I've never been afraid of The Foot until now.

I guess the difference was that I was entrusting a person I've never trusted in my entire life. And the possibility of live, mutant ninja turtles... yeah that one I'm going to have to see to believe.

I was agnostic on most believes in anything mystical. I didn't believe in most things I couldn't see or touch. Religion? A made up fairytale. Even when I was a child I never once believed in Santa Clause or the Tooth Fairy. If it didn't make sense, I didn't believe in it. If there wasn't any concrete proof, I would deem it a made up story.

So why would I believe in mutant ninja turtles?

I got up and ready for my day, oddly feeling that I wouldn't return. Everything in my gut is telling me to stay home tonight, but I had to remember my purpose.

My fingers brushed against the framed picture on my nightstand of Zayne. I held it close to my chest letting a single tear fall to my ear.

I have to do this for him. His death has to mean something.

Taking a deep sigh as I threw my leather jacket over my shoulders, paying close attention to the silver buttons of the collar; I couldn't shake my nerves.

This was very unusual for me to feel. I very rarely felt fear and at times that I did feel fear, I would enjoy the adrenaline. But this time is different.

"Why do I feel like I won't come home today?" I whispered to myself in the mirror. As I loaded my pistol, I took special notice to the magazine. "Only 15 rounds."

Would that be enough?

I was going into this so blindly, I desperately needed something with larger capacity. And I knew exactly who could help me.

———————————————————

Knock knock knock

The door opened slowly and cautiously.

"Anna?"

"Casey." I said plainly. He scowled me up and down barley able to recognize me. A lot has changed since he last saw me. "I need to talk to you."

"Come in." Still looking astound he guided me into his apartment. "Anna you look so... well I haven't seen you since,"

"The funeral." I finished for him. I'm not shocked that he's surprised to see me. I went MIA after Zayne died. "I know I haven't returned any of your calls."

"I know." He was searching for his words. "I've been worried about you, I've seen you along the police scanners at work. I had to cover for you a few times."

"Thank you." I bit my lip. "I've umm, had a few life changes after he passed. I'm sure you can relate."

"Yeah by joining the police force, not dressing up and playing visualante every night." I laughed at his comment.

"Lighten up Casey." I patted him on the arm. "It's not like I haven't seen you with your hockey mask busting skulls."

"This is different Anna, you're going to get killed. The Foot isn't something you should be playing around with."

A smile grew to my face.

"You know about The Foot." I concluded looking deep into his eyes.

"More than I'd like to." He shook his head. "I started looking into them after Zayne passed away and I... it's a bottomless pit." He turned away from me.

"I believe they killed him." I took a deep sigh. "Which is why I'm here to talk to you." I pulled out the picture of the mutants Eric gave me. "Now tell me, what do you know about mutants." He hesitated to answer me at first, but I was delighted to hear his response.

"I thought it was all a myth."

"Eric Sacks believes these are the things that killed him. I'm... going out tonight to hunt them down." Caseys eyes reverted to mine wider than I've ever seen them.

"No you're not"

"I am... along with Eric."

"What and you trust the guy?! He has been nothing but untrustworthy his whole life. Remember all the times he would get aggressive with you?!"

"I'm well aware." I put my hands up defending myself. "I don't trust him which is why I need him right where I can see him. Look I'm going into this empty handed completely alone."

"Well don't. Because the last thing I need is another funeral to attend!"

"Then help me not die. And if not for me, do it for Zayne. He was your best friend, and this could give us real answers here." His hands ran through his hair daring to say anything.

"What would you need from me?"

"An assault rifle would be a start. And maybe someone to stall the cops around 8pm tonight so I have time to get close enough to the Foot."

"If I do this for you, just promise me you'll make it out alive."

"I'll try." I said with tears forming in my eyes.

He pulled me into a hug as I cried into his chest. Casey was my only friend left. I peaked over his shoulder of the three of us in a picture. I was more than ready to find some real answers. No matter what it took.

———————————————————

I arrived to Sacks Industries with a sudden chill down my back. It had been months since I've been here. And this would be the first time I've ever been here without Zayne.

Eric greeted me at the door.

"Anastasia. Welcome."

"No need to be formal." I raised an eyebrow looking around at his overpriced architecture. People in New York are starving and he's here swimming around in an unhealthy amount of wealth. The money he spends on something as little as his watch, could change a lot of lives. "I'm here strictly for business."

"Right." He cleared his throat. "Right this way. There's someone I want you to meet." We went up his elevator to a room I surprisingly didn't recognize, but apparently you needed some sort of facial recognition to unlock the doors.

"Anastasia Hall." I was greeted by a US soldier. Dressed precisely in uniform. I was immediately thrown off. He greeted me with a warm smile and a firm handshake. "My God! 16 robberies, 35 assaults, and 7 murderers all single handedly stopped because of you. I must say Miss. Hall, it is an honor to meet you." His voice was warm and welcoming.

"Wait, what?" He laughed.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lieutenant Steele, and I will be assisting you on our operations to fight against The Foot Clan."

I turned around to Eric quickly.

"Wait... this was your team you were talking about? The United States Army?!"

"Hey I figured if in told you, you wouldn't agree."

"You're damn right I wouldn't! Visualante work is illegal. I could go to prison for the rest of my life for this."

"Anna." He swirled his glass of scotch around with a sarcastic edge to his voice. "You might want to listen to what he has to say."

I whipped my head back around to the Lieutenant. Awaiting to hear his foreclosure.

Mr. Steele grew a smile only I could sniff out as fake. I knew in my heart I couldn't trust him.

"Please, Miss Hall. Sit." He motioned his hand towards a mahogany chair. I followed keeping my eyes stiff, careful of every movement and every word.

"Tell me precisely why the military is involved with this. And why you need my help."

He chuckled.

"A bit eager aren't we?" He began to pour a glass of wine. "Me and my men behind me are working in secret from the military my dear, so your fear of getting caught won't come true." He cleared his throat. "The Foot had managed to infiltrate into our military, our government and just about everything in between. They disguise themselves as normal civilians, making it harder to identify them. So me and a few of my trusted troops reached out to people who would be willing to help fund us, help us expose the foot for who they really are before things get out of hand."

"Things are already out of hand. Besides you're the military, why would you need someone like me to help you?" I questioned now at the edge of my seat.

"Because surprisingly Anastasia, you've been the one who's ever gotten the closest to exposing the Foot."

I snickered at his comment. My hands slapped against the table now leaning into him.

"I don't believe you for one second. You guys get all the funding in the world, you wouldn't need Sacks money. So what are you really up to?" My voice seethed lower.

His eyebrows raised. "Maybe, you'd believe me had Zayne ever introduced me to you." He reached into his pocket and pulled a picture out of him and Zayne together. "I'm his Uncle."

A lump formed in my throat as I leaned back into my chair. I took a large sigh.

"Okay..." I looked around suddenly feeling dizzy from this information. "If I do this I have some conditions" I said now shaking my leg.

"Anything." He sat back in his chair.

"25 thousand up front." I said to at too casually.

"No way!" Eric interrupted. "Now you're getting greedy."

"From the sounds of it, you guys are the ones that need me. I can continue my own investigation on my own." My eyebrows raised at him.

Eric rolled his eyes. "Any other conditions?"

"I want every tool, any weapon and piece of information you have. I also want the upper hand in every decision. I run the show here. Everything has to go by me."

Eric and the Lieutenant both shared a cohesive nod. And a smile grew to my face.

"Perfect." I pursed my lips now crossing my legs. "Now tell me everything you know about the Mutants."

Mr. Steele pulled out a file of pictures.

"Michelangelo." He stated plainly as he pulled out a picture. "The youngest of the four." I observed closely at the picture trying to remain calm. I still couldn't fathom the reality of what I was seeing. A real live mutant. "Not the strongest one, but the least predictable. Donatello is the one with the brains, his strategy will be his strong suit. Raphael is the largest and strongest, but sometimes this can slow him down."

I couldn't fathom that they all had names. Unique ones too. When I saw their pictures it was difficult to see them as scary, or enemies in any sort of ways. Their faces seemed so personable. My whole body froze when I saw the last picture.

"Who's that?"

"This one is Leonardo, he's the leader of the four Mutants and the most deadly. He has the other threes unique qualities. I would try to stay clear away from him as much as possible."

"What about weaknesses?" I asked as I studied the picture.

"There aren't many." He concluded very quickly. "I should also included that they're relatively bullet proof as well."

"Great. A suicide mission." I scoffed.

"That's why we're going to help you Anastasia. We've developed shock guns that should trap them enough to where we can catch them. Use them as proof that the foot exists and is evil, and then we'll be another step further for find justice for Zayne."

"Okay." I stood up. "When do we start?"

"Tonight at 8."

———————————————————

I met up in the abandoned warehouse where I was assigned to go. Geared up and ready as hell to go. In my pocket I slipped a picture of Zayne, just for good conscience.

"Anastasia." Eric greeted me along with the lieutenant. I kept my face straight as I strutted in. I was focused like a laser.

"Eric... Mr.Steele." I said not so pleasantly.

"Here's the map you requested." I opened the iPad they provided me which scooped all the rubbles of the cargo ships we were certain were getting robbed tonight by the Foot.

"They're either going to come from the sky or the water. They can't be seen at night." I analyzed. "We should steak them out from the roof to get a good view and then I'll follow them in."

"Perfect!" Eric exclaimed. "When you get to a good spot I'll have his troops follow after you." I laughed at his audacity. He slowly caught on. "What?"

"This is my operation Eric, you're coming with me."

"Are you serious?" He stuttered. "I'm not going with you."

"Well since I've been suspicious you of, I figured you wouldn't mind coming with me. I can keep a close eye on you. Besides you have to do what I say or else I'm out." I said with almost a complete smile in my face.

Mr. Steele nudged Eric.

"We promised to do what she said."

"Correct." I appointed. "I'll have the police force stalled at exactly 8:12pm tonight. We'll have about a 20 minute window. We'll also have to shoot the shockers from a distance. They'll kill us if they get too close."

"What's your plan once we get in there?" Eric asked.

"I don't have one." I said simply yet with such utter confidence.

"What do you mean you don't have a plan?" Eric now said with annoyance. Seeing him oh so flustered made me happy on the inside.

"I never have a plan Eric." I giggled. "Look, there's way too many unpredictable properties that could happen tonight. We'll start off with just you and me, we'll try to locate them and follow them and if we need help we'll call for help or retreat, but that's the best we can do given the circumstances. Also the map of the shipping container unit will help me a lot."

"Don't be afraid to send my men in." Mr. Steele affirmed.

"These are the nations most dangerous criminals. I won't use your men unless it's absolutely necessary."

I took another pathetic look at Eric.

"Gear up." I commanded.

"Heres your check for 25k. But no amount of money can subside for the amount of lives you saved and can save tonight." Mr. Steele gave me a firm handshake to which I noticed a pin on his right cuff.

"What a lovely pin. It doesn't look military." I observed. It was red, with a Japanese symbol I couldn't recognize.

"It was my father's." He said way too quickly for my liking. I made a mental note of that tiny detail.

"Hmm. Okay."

We geared up with a bunch of military grade equipment, along with the shockers that would supposedly trap the mutants. It was 7:50pm. Sacks and I climbed to the nearest rooftop so we could stake out the mutants.

We got to the top and I reached for my binoculars as I checked my watch.

"We have a clear view. We just have to wait."

Eric was out of breath already trying to keep up.

"You really don't trust me that much that you had to drag me along with you." He grunted as he sat down next to me.

"Correct. There's always that 1% chance." I said as I observed closely and quietly. "Just stay close and you'll be fine."

And right at that moment I saw a slew of Foot soldiers march their way into the shipping containers on the docks.

"Is that?" He gasped.

"Yup." I finished for him. "It's The Foot clan, but where are the mutants?"

"Shouldn't we be down there?"

"Shhh-" I cut him off as I checked my watch.

8:05

"Anna we need to get down there."

"Shut up." I whispered. My breaths were slow trying not to make a sound.

"What?" He whispered.

"Oh my god." When I finally saw it for my own eyes. I swallowed an uncomfortable lump in my throat. "There they are."

"Let me see... I wanna see for myself." He motioned for my binoculars. As he observed the same reality in which I just observed, a sadistic smile creeped along his face. "They're exquisite."

"They're murderers Eric. The murderers of Zayne." I looked at him in disbelief. Something was seriously off about him. I also couldn't shake my suspicion based on the fact that the mutants rolled in way after the Foot Clan did.

"Okay. We need to get past those two yellow parcels without being seen, we could climb to the top of one and get a clear shot there. We should probably aim for the leader first. Hell be the hardest to take down. Maybe use some tranquilizers as well."

"We should probably split up. In case the mutants do too."

"Good idea." I said as I stood up. "Lieutenant can you hear me?.... We have an eye on the mutants. Wait for my signal to send your troops." Eric and I slid down the fire escape and went our separate ways. I knew I had to save my guns for last because they could give away my position. I had to get passed as many Foot soldiers as possible without being seen or heard.

Lucky for me, I'm pretty small and quiet. I snuck to the top of a single shipping container and balanced myself on the end and peaked around to scope the area. I had completely lost sight of the turtles.

I have to get closer.

Feeling my heart beat into my ears I jumped as quietly as possible to another container, daring to put myself in more visibility. My equipment on my back weighting me down.

And then.

I saw one close with my own fucking eyes.

The tall one I caught scoping out the area as I was. I knew he was the brains out of all of them,  so the other three must have been on the ground.

I duck my head the moment I saw his head turn in my direction. If I give away my position, I'm toast. My left foot was barley balancing onto the shipping container. I could very easily fall.

As I ducked my head and body into one direction, I immediately heard clan members coming up right behind me, and I was in perfect eyes view.

I heard only two, and I had to decide in that moment who I was going to face. Either a giant mutant turtle or two clan members.

"The two people win." I said to myself as I hopped down to the other side of the container, completely exposing myself. The two clan members immediately attacked me. The one ran directly to me with a knife to which I grabbed his wrist and kicked him right in the stomach to knock him down and used one of my tranquilizers to immediately knock him out.

I had to be quiet.

The other one put me in a chokehold from behind to which I quickly snapped my head back to break his nose. I turn around quickly to inject him with tranquilizers in the neck knocking the second one out.

However as I pulled the body away I noticed a small red pin on the collar of the foot soldiers uniform. One that looked identical to the pin Mr. Steele had on the cuff of his sleeve.

"Oh my god."

Could it be? Could it really fucking be right now?!

I ran to the other foot soldier and had the same pin on his collar as well.

"That son of a bitch."

Anger rose to my ears, making me sweat from how livid I was.

I pressed into my ear piece.

"Eric we need to retreat." And I awaited a response and... nothing.

I tried again. "Eric do you hear me, we need to retreat."

My breaths became heavy as I realized my reality. Now I was trapped in the center of a foot clan operation. Outnumbered by ninjas and mutant turtles.

But worst of all, the biggest thing I realized was that it was all a trap. I had been fooled into walking into my own death.

But why would they do this?

That was an answer I didn't have time to think about.

No help is coming. I'm completely and utterly alone in this.

I took a long, shaken breath. Blinking hard as my fists squeezed so hard that I could probably make myself bleed. As I exhaled, I did everything I could to not shed a tear.

I rarely felt fear, but knowing I was set into a suicide trap terrified me even more.

I can't think about it, I just have to get out of here.

As much as I tried to shake everything that I just realized, I couldn't.

"Because surprisingly Anastasia, you've been the one who's ever gotten the closest to exposing the Foot." I replayed in my head.

Eric was apart of the Foot. And I got too close.

"This is my execution." I whispered to myself. Very well played of Eric's part. I knew I couldn't trust that bastard.

I don't understand. Why would he work for the same organization that killed his younger brother?

Or better yet, maybe I've been looking in all the wrong places.

Could it be that Zaynes death was actually a suicide?

No.

I don't want to believe that.

Breathing heavy and feeling my heart beat so hard that I felt it pulsate through my feet into the ground. I quickly shoved every emotion inside of me.

I have to get out of this mess and survive.

I peer my surroundings hearing every commotion of the robbery and remaining glued to my hiding spot. With utter frustration I bang the back of my head against the shipping container. My hand grips onto my dagger a little tighter.

As footsteps tread behind me, I inch holding my breath, daring to look. I saw the same woman that I saw at the bank robbery the other night. One of their "leaders" I suppose. I couldn't make out any feature of who she was because her face was hidden by a hanya mask. Hanyas were female Japanese demons from what I remembered. Very fitting for the job.

As I observed... for a slight moment, my fear subsided.

I knew in both my heart and my gut, that the Foot had something to do with Zaynes death.

I could either run away, or I could get answers.

On the count of three.

One.

I pivoted my feet and bent my legs ready to brace my run.

Two.

I pulled out my gun, already loaded and secured it in between both of my hands. I carefully and strategically picked my first victim.

I can do this.

Breath in, breath out.

Three.

As I made my first step forward someone beat me to it.

One of the mutants, banded in red, began to soar towards The Foot Clan.

"What the hell?" I whispered to myself, softening my grip around my gun.

Why in the living fuck was one of the mutants fighting by against their own people?

I observed the brute in pure awe. His technique was flawless and when I say he was way larger in person, I meant it.

Raphael. The brute.

I recognized him from the pictures I was shown.

The second turtle summersaulted in the air towards the clan. He was so fast that my eyes couldn't keep up. I gave my eyes a quick rub to freshen my vision up.

Bullets flew at the speed of light toward him. And he fought each one off perfectly with his nunchucks without an ounce of fear in his eyes.

"Is that all you got bruh?" He even cracked a joke like it was nothing to him.

And he spoke... English?!

I pinched myself to make sure I wasn't trapped in a dream or a nightmare.

I can assure myself that I'm not dreaming...

The third turtle came to the left, the same turtle I spotted earlier with some sort of staff. He was loaded up with equipment and like the others, his technique in fighting was phenomenal.

In this very exact moment as I sit back and observe these fascinating mutants annihilating the foot ninjas, I also realize a few things.

One, that I was utterly and completely set up. For some reason Sacks wanted me to die tonight and also lied to me about the turtles.

Two, these mutant turtles were not my enemy. At least, they weren't apart of the Foot Clan and that was good enough for me at the moment.

Maybe the hope was that if I fight against the turtles, that they would kill me.

No, that plan is too complexed for even Sacks to come up with. However, my gut was telling me that it was true.

So what do I do now?

If I wanted to, I could retreat. Go back home and get my revenge on Eric Sacks. Or I could risk my life and join the fight.

I was located in the center of the docks. And there was no guarantee that if the turtles saw me that they would spare my life. For all I know they could just be bat shit crazy.

But I must have sat and thought too long... hand wrapped around my neck making me drop my gun. I was drug back and swung head first into a container. The corner of my head bashed into the wall and the thud was so loud that you could hear it a mile away.

My adrenaline kicked in fast.

Forget the pain... focus and get up!

A foot soldier charged at me as my legs wobbled up. I grabbed a led pipe beside me and knocked him in the head with it. Two more surrounded me. I put myself on defense with the pipe, not being strategic in any manner attempting to throw them off. I hit the one on my right in the stomach temporarily knocking him down. I pivoted my feet and wrapped the pipe around the second one's neck. I kicked him in the back and dislocated his spine.

I ran and hid to the nearest hiding spot. My hand flew to my head which was dripping in blood as my adrenaline wore off. I definitely had a concussion. I was seeing double. As I cornered into my hiding spot I peaked and saw all three of the turtles fighting.

"Where's the fourth turtle?" I said to myself.

The tall purple one was landed a perpetuates blow to the knee, which knocked him down. I admired how fast he recovered, but at this point he was surrounded by ninjas. He attempted to fight them, but they pinned the purple banded turtle down.

My heart sank immediately when I saw the fear in his eyes. His other two brothers being too busy to save him.

My dumb gut told me to help him even though I was injured. I could easily save him.

"Don't do it Anna..." I said to myself. I had to stay alive.

But just when I convinced myself not to, as the purple banded turtle was pinned down, another foot ninja came up with an ax, so I grabbed my pipe again.

"I'm so going to regret this." I rolled my eyes and ran to expose myself.

Yeah... instant regret. Now I was in the view of the turtles and the Foot clan. All for what?

I ran as fast as I could and with all the strength that I had I bashed the ninja holding the axe right in the back of the head. I knocked him out in one swipe.

I'm starting to like this stupid pipe.

In one swift motion I swung my pipe around knocking both of the ninjas out that were holding the turtle down and I set him free. I dropped the pipe and immediately reached for my hand sized pistol, shooting the ninja behind the turtle and knocking him down. As the turtle stood up well above me, I shook in my boots a little bit.

We both paused as we stared at each other, both seeing if the other one will make a move.

His free hand raised up in the classic "I'm not going to hurt you" stance.

"Thank you." He said. I choke on my breath again hearing him talk in perfect English. His eyes reverted above my head as he readied his bo staff. "Behind you."

I immediately ducked. As he beat up the ninja behind me. Another ninja came up behind me. I bashed him in the nose with my pipe and kicked his kneecap in dislocating his knee. He fell to the ground and I elbowed him in the temple knocking him out. A second ninja grabbed my arms making me drop my pipe trying to drag me. I managed to stamp my feet in the ground, whipped my head back as hard as I could right on his nose. Making his arms loose. I turned around and punched him in the throat making him fall to the ground.

I was completely worn out.

The orange clad turtle jumped in front of me and finished off the remaining ninjas.

Just when I thought it was over, I heard a familiar voice.

"Finish her!" I heard Eric say, but when I looked around there was no sign of him. I loaded my pistol and was greeted my three more ninjas.

"More of you?!" I annoyingly said.

I went to shoot, but my gun was knocked out of my hand. I went straight to street combat. I blocked every painful punch this guy threw at me. I pushed him back enough to blow him in the jaw, but that's all I was able to get. I was kicked beautifully in my stomach which made me fly back into something hard. I felt my back shatter in pain as I fell forward onto the ground. I landed on my shoulder harshly. The soldier then grabbed me by the neck and pinned me against the container pressing directly into my trachea. I couldn't resist his pure strength as I fought for my breath, right when I thought I was going to pass out, the purple clad turtle knocked him with his bo staff and finished off the rest of the rest of the ninjas.

I fell to the ground gasping for air. I felt my entire body fuzz in pins and needles.

I cant believe the turtle saved me.

He lifted me to my feet. I could tell he was immediately checking me for injuries.

"You're okay. I got you." He sounded so utterly normal.

I caught my breath extremely fast noticing it was finally over. I somehow managed to survive.

"Donatello!" I heard a voice I did not yet recognize. And he walked over towards me. Even though I was just strangled a minute ago, nothing took my breath away as much as seeing the blue clad turtle for the first time. He walked slowly towards me, probably unsure if I was an enemy or not. I heard him slowly take out a sword.

I recognized him. This was the leader, the deadliest of the four.

"She's not an enemy Leo! She saved me." Donnie said. There wasn't much I was afraid of. I knew their intentions were good. I put my hands up to show I meant no harm. Leo came out of the shadows and the moonlight hit his body. I finally was close enough to be face to face with him. Oddly the closer he got to me the safer I felt. My heart slowed down. I looked into his eyes and instantly fell into a trace.

My heart stopped when I saw his eyes. So striking that it made me shake to my core. So blue that I'm pretty sure they glowed. They were like sapphires of light which peered through his opaque facial expressions. Through his eyes alone, I could see every bit of his souls. And this terrified me.

He observed me looking up and down.

His face was perfectly proportionate. His eyes were a striking blue that beautifully clashed with his dark blue bandana. He had a scar leading down his right eye. His skin reflected off the light and it was nothing like I've ever seen. My eyes trailed to his shoulder.

He had a tribal tattoo along his right shoulder and another tattoo that wrapped around his left bicep.

However, as massive and as intimidating as he looked, I wasn't scared.

"We need to get her out of here." My body felt a chill when he spoke. I've never heard a voice so smooth and rich before. I panted hard now realizing the extent of my injuries. I couldn't move. "Miss?"

Is he talking to me?

"Y-you... t-turtle." I stuttered.

"It's okay." He hushed. "I'm not going to hurt you. We're the good guys." I wasn't sure how much longer I could stand. My skin felt flushed and clammy. My breaths were shallow. I felt like I was going into both physical and physiological shock. "Are you hurt?"

"I-I'm sorry. I saw you guys were in trouble." I muttered as my legs shook beneath me.

I didn't answer the right question. My brain was just so fuzzy and confused.

"She's going into shock." Donnie spoke up behind him. Apparently that wasn't important to the leader in blue. He seemed just as confused by me as I was by the turtles.

He's smart I'll give him that. He's probably wondering why I'm here and what my intentions are.

Much like me, he was searching for answers. And in that way I could relate to him.

"What are you doing here at this hour?" He questioned me like a parent questioning their child. As my breaths became more shallow. I was certain I would pass out soon, but in the case that these turtles would choose to go against me, I kept my guard up.

"I was searching for the foot clan." I was completely honest with him. I probably should have lied, but the more I looked in his eyes, the more I felt I could trust him. My voice was shaken and raspy from being choked.

"Why?" He said simply, somehow expecting me to comply.

"Because they poison everything. They infiltrated my city and I'm pretty sure they took someone I love. I've been tracking them down for months and my apologies, but at first I spotted you guys with the Foot Clan and I assumed you were associated, but after seeing you fight against them, I realized I was wrong." I had nothing to gain by being honest with them. I knew all the leader was looking for was honesty to see if he could trust me. Him and I were off the bat very similar beings.

"You risked your life for my brother. Thank you." His eyes scanned my injuries, observing the bruises along my neck.

"She looks familiar." The red banded turtle said. "I think she's that other vigilante I saw running around the city." Leo lifted his hand to silence him as he kept scanning my body.

"We need to get her out of range before the cops show up." He said to his brothers. Then he directed his eyes to me. "You're hurt. Do you know where the nearest hospital is? We can escort you."

"I-" And before I could finish I felt a searing pain in my stomach followed by something warm and wet dripping town my body. I looked down. I was shot by an arrow by a left over foot clan member. I numbly pulled it out slowly. My body instantly became cold and weak. My vision blurred. I fell so helplessly, but Leo caught me before I hit my head.

"Raph get him!" he ordered. His voiced changed. His yell made me shake.

"There's more of them!" Mikey exclaimed. Leo immediately picked up my dead weight and carrying me to a safer spot.

"Finish them off!" Leo yelled as he applied a fuck ton of pressure to my stomach. I yelled from the pain. "I'm sorry." He said to me.

"She's bleeding out! We need to get her out of here!" Said Donnie

"But where? We can't go to a hospital." Leo said as he let Donnie take over in applying pressure. I started to feel tingles and coughed as blood went to my throat. All I could feel were the leaders warm arms cradling me.

"Oh no." The purple banded turtle observed the arrow I was shot with. "It's a poison arrow Leo. The ones with the toxic purple ooze."

"What are her chances Donnie?" Leo's voice rumbled underneath me, but I didn't hear Donatello give him an answer.

"She's going to die Leo. We did everything we could." I heard the red one say.

"Its fine. Just leave me." I muffled. My life wasn't important anyways. I always wanted to die anyways. I was just always too weak to do it myself.

If anything I'd get to be with Zayne. And that's all I would need to be content. After all, I had nobody.

"Are you crazy?" Leo said to me. It wasn't long until the pain settled in. It was excruciating. The pain was so bad that I couldn't even scream. My insides felt like they were being lit on fire and blood filled my throat and mouth. Leo tilted my head so I didn't choke. His attention to detail was incredible.

"I'm not going to make it anyways. Save yourselves before more of them come." I tried to convince them before I wasn't coherent anymore. I probably would make it if I was sent to a hospital, but I really just wanted to die. More than anything in this world. My vision blurred. I could tell they were trying to talk to me, but everything was muffled. Like what you hear when you're underwater.

I could hear they were arguing. I took a few shallow breaths and my vision went black.

"Now I will tell you what I've done for you

50 thousand tears I've cried

Screaming, deceiving, and bleeding for you

And you still won't hear me

Don't want your hand this time, I'll save myself

Maybe I'll wake up for once

Not tormented, daily defeated by you

Just when I thought I'd reached the bottom

I'm dying again

I'm going under

Drowning in you

I'm falling forever

I've got to break through

I'm going under" ~ Evanescence

Thank you so much for reading!

As always if you enjoy my work, like, follow and comment your thoughts! It lets me know to write more!

Much love~ HamatoSami💙

[anxiouslyfred]

Illogical Logic

Summary: Logan's schedule is too much for most of the sides and Remus takes a stand against it.

Author's note: I tried. This was the only way I could think to fit the idea I'd written down that seemed to fit the series as well.

My idea for this fic: Remus needs to insult/ call out Logan or maybe Patton for acting/assuming illogically to his views by saying he could take an ice bath in magma near them.

/\

The rota started it.

Remus was absolutely against Logan’s form of scheduling Thomas’s day and unlike Roman refused to listen to how warped Thomas’s logic had grown over getting his life on track. Aside from the fact that it’s trains not people that run on tracks and Remus had already been banned from trying to change that in the imagination, it simply wasn’t feasible or taking into consideration any other part of Thomas.

There were ‘allowances’ small periods of time given to claim that everyone was being considered but were never more than that; an allowance as small as possible.

Janus wasn’t upset by the rota, had long since perfected arguing in ways the logical side could understand but if lawyers are made of deceptions and convincing people to their views, then of course Deceit would be able to.

For the last week however, Roman had been over-running his allotted time, Virgil had been overworked and Patton, well he’d been trying to drag out the times scheduled for friends, and cooking as long as he could without Logan getting annoyed. They were all pushing the schedule but trying to appease the logic behind it and Remus was doing the rest.

He was stopping Thomas at any other point of the day, unsettling him and slowing any possible progress. Any time Logan turned around, there was Remus causing chaos and delays again, setting the entire schedule off.

“Enough! Everyone here.” Logan called, arms pulling up, trying to summon all the other sides at once.

“Uh No.” Remus replied, lowering them again. “I don’t think they need yelling at Loginator.”

The hands were yanked from his grasp, Logan’s eyes narrowing at him. “Fine then! You’ve been the biggest issue regardless. Your behaviour this week has been atrocious and left Thomas far behind many tasks we needed to get done.”

Remus imitated an incorrect buzzer, “The schedule is a suitcase bursting open in the airport to reveal a hundred dildos in that state that made it illegal to own more than one. Then the owner gets arrested, strip searched, sent to prison without delay for perversion and their whole life imploded. Especially their hole.”

“It’s intricately calculated and balanced by logic to-”

“If that’s logic then I could take an ice bath in lava. Let’s try!” He cheered, easily shifting the mindspace to start lava seeping into the room.

Logan blinked, straightening his glasses. “Why would you declare it illogical?” There was a tick in his head as if he was trying to withhold from screaming.

“Uh I’m here. I know illogic better than anyone. It’s my thing and you are thief!” Remus beamed at him, “So I’m thinking jail time, torture, drowning, sacrifice and test subject. Do you have any thoughts?”

“I think I’d like to hear from the others now. Perhaps ask someone else what’s wrong with the schedule.” Logan offered.

Remus tilted his head for a moment, bringing the schedule up, and the pie chart Logan had once made to explain it. “I don’t know. Their slices are pretty small. You really can’t get a decent mouthful of any of them. Your own ass would be a better bite.”

Pinching his nose, Logan nodded, snatching the pages back. “I’ll revise it, but never call me illogical again.”

“Maybe think about that debate you had with Virgil way back.” Remus agreed, “I’m thinking next week I’ll tie you in as many knots physically as you seem to have gone through to think that’s still logical.”

[scavengerssuccotash]

Chapter 23: Dear Future Me has been released!

Read on Ao3 for registered users!

The safe house SHIELD provides is laughably pedestrian, and domestic despite its overall sparse decor. Pictures of some photo stock family litter the walls, all smiling faces and appropriately cultural for the location. There is even an Afghan quilt thrown haphazardly onto the couch. It boasts a modest footprint, single story, one bedroom with an attached full bath, a kitchen large enough for a small table and two chairs, a living room with a pull-out couch and small entertainment center. Two exits, the front door and one in the rear that leads to a small backyard off the kitchen.

It’s a far cry from the hotel rooms that Strike Team Delta has been living out of for what feels like months. Natasha wants nothing more than to curl up on the couch and drown her frustrations with a pint of ice cream and a bottle—or two—of vodka. At that thought Ivan’s taunt flits across her mind—

Comfort makes you weak, Natalia.

Reminding her that even now his presence is still very much felt, clinging to the dark recesses of her mind like mold behind the toilet. She supposes this too is just another layer of her Red Room self that she has been unable to shed. Residual trauma she suspects, but wholly unwilling to consult a professional on the matter. She’s had enough one on one time with a psychologist for one lifetime as it stands, given the recently unearthed revelations. Natasha isn’t handling the news of her failure as well as she had hoped she would. Despite the truth of her words to Phil—it was foolish of her to think a cockroach like the Red Room would end with Dreykov’s death—she finds herself unreasonably angry. Furious that she’s allowed herself to believe in the delusion and livid that she had relished within it. That she was so blinded by her need to forget and move on that she neglected to investigate further. She didn’t even bother to listen in to the rumors that had no doubt percolated through SHIELD’s rumor mill regarding recent Widow sightings. Worst of all, she had made it a point not too, choosing instead to nurture her friendship with Clint and Carson. Put simply.

She failed her mission in the most spectacular fashion.

Of course, Clint would argue that her failure was in part assisted by Phil and SHIELD’s duplicity, their combined lies of omission, and while Natasha herself is still rather hurt by Phil’s assumption she can’t really blame him. The two shots of vodka in her coffee that morning, snuck in behind Clint’s back, don’t scream stable.

Whether she falters or not now depends on the success of this mission.

Natasha Romanoff has never failed a mission twice.

Strike Team Delta never fails a mission twice.

[mamamittens]

Now it's the Bois turn to be sad beans

I'm starting with Izou first, because he deserves it.

I don't care to look up if Izou knows exactly what happened to Oden or if he was dead before the Wano arc, so for this, assume he knows Oden died, not how or when exactly, and has Feelings about it.

It's the anniversary of Oden leaving Whitebeard's crew.

The anniversary of Izou officially joining Whitebeard and allowing his Liege to leave for their homeland after being a loyal vassal for so long.

It is the yearly anniversary of Izou getting shit faced in his office. A temporary indulgence as he drunkenly wonders what life would be like if he convinced Oden to stay. If he followed. If. If. If anything and everything.

Anything but letting him leave and die in Wano.

No one disturbs Izou. Not today.

Tomorrow, Izou will be put together, if a little hung over, just as he was the day before. As sharp tongued, witty, and collected as ever.

But today?

Today he drinks and drinks until the heat in his cheeks masks the hot tears. Thatch would likely gently cajole him into eating something light before sitting in the bath with him before going to bed. But most of the day, Thatch leaves him to his grief. Partly because his own duties still require attention and partly because he doesn't wish his presence to force Izou to pull it together.

They're peers, as much as they are lovers. Together, they're strong enough to take on the world.

But right now? On today of all days?

Izou wants to fall apart before dragging himself back together piece by piece with bloody fingers dripping with cheap booze. This goes beyond being vulnerable and open, this is a gaping wound Izou can't help but slice open year after year.

The world was so beautiful, back when Oden was his boastful, stubborn, idiotic Lord. They were all so happy. But Oden had to grow up. Mature. And go back home to better Wano--only to die there without Izou.

And the others... The kids.

Izou tossed aside an empty bottle and reached for the next, nearly stumbling out of his chair as soft knocking echoed in the stifling silence.

"What!?" He snarled, voice cracking and oozing malice.

"...'Zo?" Nikia's voice was hesitant and soft. A gentle request of concern that stabbed and gut Izou in two.

"Ki, sweetheart--please. I am fine. L-Leave me to it, dear." Izou called out thickly, the venom pooling out at his feet with shame.

Despite her quiet presence, Izou could feel the gentle resolve grow. Hesitant but...

Even half blitzed, Izou could feel her concern. Almost hear her soft shuffling as she searched for the right words.

"I... I don't think I should, honey. It's okay if you don't want to talk but... I don't think you should be alone either." Nikia responded finally.

Izou did not want her to see him like this.

Disheveled. Lipstick smeared and worn away on the lips of empty booze bottles. Eyes swollen and red. Any charm exchanged for the appeal of a miserable, pathetic, wet thing in silk too expensive to be stained with such cheap sake.

"It's okay. You can go."

"N-No it's not. I... You... I just..." Her voice stammered through the door with difficulty, stabbing his heart as she clearly struggled to find the right words.

But there wasn't any to be had here.

Just a miserable old bastard drowning out his regrets.

"I'm here." Nikia finally let slip, making Izou freeze. "If you really want to be alone, that's okay. I won't force you. But... It's okay. You don't even need to ask, I'll be here if you--if you want me."

It wasn't conscious.

His feet tripping over themselves as he made it halfway to the door before realizing what he was doing.

Halting as he berated himself for being so hung up on her that he was ready to force his miserable self into her open arms for just a chance. A single, fucking chance to be in them, even if he was an absolute mess when he did it.

But then he heard shuffling outside the door and moved with a stab of ice in his chest.

Door yanked open before he could think better of it.

Nikia stood. Frozen, hands clenched to her chest fretfully as her wings shifted in discomfort. Wide, impossible blue eyes pale like the distant horizon after a storm looking up at him with beads of tears in her lashes.

Blue curls dancing around her ears as she gazed up at him.

Hopeful and too sweet to endure. All that sugar melting into a soothing honey as she visibly wilted.

"Oh, Izou, baby." She sighed, hesitantly reaching out to him like he would shatter if her gentle fingertips so much as brushed his skin.

Without a word, he grasped her hand and pulled her into his office, closing the door behind her.

She pulled him into her arms so tenderly, grasp barely a suggestion. Freely allowing him to pull away with even a fraction of effort. But he allowed it greedily.

Buried his face into her chest as he sank to his knees. Collapsing and bringing her with him, nearly pinning her to the door as she rubbed his shoulders and brushed back his messy hair. Kissing and whispering to him reassurances.

"It's okay. You can let it hurt for as long as you want. I'm right here with you, 'Zo. Whatever you need. Let everything else wait until you're ready. Nothing matters more to me than you right now." Nikia whispered, her wings curling around him like a heavy blanket.

He shuddered. Lungs seizing.

And for the first time in a long time, Izou fell apart.

Really fell apart.

Not in bloody, drunken pieces, but almost... Drifting. Like the sea was carrying parts of him away under the gentle shade of angelic wings. Washing away his sorrows even as he let them be.

He had wept in Thatch's arms when he first heard the news, of course. His first, real moment of vulnerability. As both a lover and a Whitebeard pirate. And then he dragged himself back together because he felt as though he had to.

Life at sea waits for no one. Least of all a pirate.

And he had to prove it was worth something--staying behind. That it wasn't weakness that cast him out. That that weakness wasn't a liability.

It was strange now. To fall apart to unapologetically in Nikia's arms when, usually, Izou is the rock to Thatch's unending passion. Pragmatic and ruthless in a way Thatch hesitates to be in fear of missing an opportunity to do right.

She wasn't really a pillar of strength between the three of them. An inspiration to be kind and patient and perhaps more conscientious, but not really strong. Maybe even protective and possessive even.

But Nikia was soft like the snowfall she called home. Shy and uncertain more often than not. But endlessly caring and sweet when allowed to be.

Falling apart now felt less like admitting to severe weakness and more like... Finally breathing in all his sorrow for the first time. Letting it drown him, knowing there was a gentle embrace keeping him close to the shallows.

He can wallow here without worry.

Safe and embraced with soft curves and feathers.

No one but her to see him like this.

And he stayed there, long after he finished sobbing, until Thatch came to get him to eat. Shocked to see Nikia, who quietly shushed him.

"If you don't make space for grief, grief will find space on its own terms." She whispered, kissing Izou's brow as he sleepily nuzzled into her shoulder.

"...alright. Lets have a sleep over then." Thatch acquiesced easily, eyes fond and soft for the both of them.

Izou ended up in the middle, head still resting on Nikia's chest as he drifted off.

"Lucky bastard..." Thatch huffed in amusement, cuddling up behind Izou as Nikia slept. Arms still locked around him.

(Thatch will have to wait till tomorrow cause I'm EEPY AS FUCK)

[hellhoundslut]

Kinktober 2024: Shower Sex

(Lucian is transmasc and primarily uses he/him pronouns, Mars is a genderless eldritch monster in a human skin suit that uses they/them pronouns and in this current situation has a vulva.)

The water was entirely too hot for Lucian’s liking. He preferred an ice cold shower, especially in the morning before going on his run. There’s no better way to wake up than ice cold water right in your face. Cold water kept him frigid and solid like stone, strong enough to weather almost anything. Mars preferred the hot water, as scalding as possible. They once told him that if the water was hot enough then the burning static of their magic often felt just underneath their skin could be drowned out by the burn of the water, and they could feel a moment of relief. And so he would always endure for them, no amount of heat could stop him from doing so. Lucian would also never turn down an opportunity to see them naked. 

Lucian stepped into the shower behind them, nearly yelping when he was greeted by the raining drops of fire. Mars chuckled softly and turned to face him, a hand affectionately taking hold of his jaw to kiss him. Lucian allowed their lips and the water to melt his stone away. Mars digs their nails into his jaw as they devour him, stealing away his breath and replacing it with heat. They pull away all too soon, leaving Lucian to grumble as they turn to face the water and actually start bathing. Lucian tries to distract himself by bathing as well, lathering up with his own body wash while his eyes are glued to the ethereal being in front of him. 

Mars knows exactly what they’re doing, they have to! Hands roving across their body, spreading soap tantalizingly slow over every expanse of bare skin all while throwing sultry looks back to the wolf with wicked smirks. Lucian stares on with desire, carnal and instinctive, his gums itching as his teeth sharpen to a point. He wanted so badly to devour the creature before him, to touch and taste them every moment of his existence. He moves forward without thinking, wrapping his arms around Mars, grabbing their breasts in handfuls. Mars groans softly, laying their head back against Lucian’s shoulder as he continues his ministrations, their neck now fully exposed to Lucian’s watchful gaze. Lucian presses his lips to their throat, letting his teeth drag over the skin and leave goosebumps in their wake. He sucks bruises into their neck, their brown skin darkening further as Lucian makes his way over their neck and collarbone, not bothering to care about who would be able to see the marks later. Mars grins and laughs, their hand coming up to cradle Lucian’s head for a moment before grabbing hold up his hair and wrenching his mouth away. Mars keeps a firm hold, bringing Lucian to stand in front of them. The sight before them made their heart soar and their cunt throb. Lucian was already drunk on them, eyes a little hazy and jaw slack. Mars applied only a small bit of pressure to the top of his head and Lucian was already lowering to his knees. 

“Let’s put that mouth to good use darling.”

[artdivadej]

Survivor's Remorse (II)

Part Two

18+ | NSFW | PTSD

Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

How could I?

Peeta didn’t look scared but that didn’t make this ok. He’s a guy, of course his body would react on instinct. I had no right. I immediately bolt from the bed before he can grab me with those powerful hands of his. Always trying to hold me together and I’d violated him.

“I’m so sorry”, I gasped fighting my tears of disgust.

“Sweetness, you did nothing wrong”, he called in that honey sweet baritone.

I must have looked as feral as I did when I was coming off of the trackerjacker venom during my post-torture rescue. He only ever used that tone with me when I was about to lose my shit.

“I just assaulted you Peeta!”

“No. You were sleeping you-”

“Exactly! Just like what Marvel did to me! You were unconscious!”

“It’s not the same”, he tried softly. “You know how I feel about you. Marvel had no right to touch you!”

I forgot how wild the mention of Marvel made Peeta. I’d never watched our games, no intentions on seeing myself suffer in HD when it never left my nightmares. Marvel was the only tribute that Peeta had killed but I’d been unconscious when it happened. I’d woken up 3 days later latched onto Peeta like a tick, refusing to let go. No panties or shirt under my jacket and jeans but very sore. Marvel was nowhere in sight but, there was blood on the left wall of the cave. Peeta told me he’d gotten to me in time but with the soreness I had? It was clearly to keep what little sanity I’d had left intact. I allowed them to think I’d believed the lie.

It took what little good I had left in me. Forever taking what little hope I had to be with Peeta away.

“I was unconscious. So were you. Unconscious people can’t say no”, I snarled taking another step backwards.

“It’s not the same. I invited you into my bed. I lov-”

“Stop it!” I screeched bolting from the room.

I can hear Peeta scrambling to get together to come behind me but I’ve always been faster. And I cared little for pants anyway. I darted out the window and took off to the forest. It’d grown much lusher since the districts can come and go between each other. It was warm out even with night still reigning. I needed to hurt something so I didn’t hurt myself. Going to my hollowed-out trunk I bypassed the bow today, needing more personal methods of killing tonight.

I stayed out until the sky began to turn Peeta’s favorite colors. Taking that as my sign to head back with my haul. I left half of my kill in the ice cooler in the now updated shed out here that the hunters have asked my permission to utilize. They can carry the heavy buck back to town themselves. I’d skinned it. They can do the rest.

After taking a bath in the pond I finally trekked back to the Victors Village, peeking around the homes to make sure Peeta wasn’t in sight. When the coast was clear I slid into the side window of Haymitch’s living room and started a fire, depositing my kill in the sink. He was fast asleep in one of the armchairs in front of the fire with a cup beside him. I fumbled through the middle cabinet in the back compartment for my secret stash. Found em! I grabbed three of the bottles of the clear liquid and plopped down on the loveseat in front of the fire.

“Want some pants there sweetheart?”, he chuckles with a stretch that makes his bones pop loudly.

“No. But I’ll take a blanket”

He removed the black fuzzy blanket from the chair that Peeta usually sits in and draped it over my legs since I was sitting Indian-style on the couch staring into the flames. The smell of his cinnamon wafted into my nostrils hitting me with another wave of guilt.

“You know he was here looking for you last night, right?”

“I’m sure”, I grimace swallowing 1/3 of the first bottle in one swig.

I understood why Haymitch used to drown himself daily to numb the memories. I quite liked the burn of alcohol myself and the dreamy state that I felt when it hit.

“A bit early for you, isn’t it?”

“You’re one to talk”, I snort

“Exactly. I said early for you”

He took the second bottle from my lap and poured half into his teacup. I shoot him a halfhearted smirk. Haymitch was my mentor but he became more of a father to me than I’d ever known. I liked that he was flawed. It made me feel like I wasn’t alone in this. He didn’t judge me. Haymitch just was blunt. Not everyone liked that. I did. We’d grown close in our last 5 years together knowing he wasn’t one to lie to me....normally. We sat in comfortable silence for a little while before it came tumbling out.

“I molested Peeta”, I breath shakily as I take another gulp.

Haymitch choked on his hot toddy and slammed the cup down. He was on the couch beside me forcing me to look at him faster than I could register with his powerful grip. Sometimes I forget just how agile he can be.

“That is not what you did! Don’t fucking say that again!”

“It’s what it feels like! I was never supposed to taint him!”

“Grow up! You’re both adults now. You know good and God damn well if Peeta invited you to sleep in that bed with him, he’s more than willing to take whatever you give him. He wouldn’t have allowed you to sleep beside him anymore once you turned 18 if you both hadn’t known what could come from your little arrangement!”

“Not like that Pops”, I cried wiping my eyes in frustration. “I almost did to him what Marvel did to me. It’s why I can’t with Peeta. He deserves so much better”

“Is that what you really think happened?”

I’d never seen Haymitch’s crystal blue eyes so downhearted. To finally understand that I never once believed any of them when they told me that lie to keep me sane.

That I know they’d all lied to me.

“If you refuse to watch the game, I think you owe it to Peeta to ask him about what happened that night”

“I did”

He knew this entire topic left me feeling as raw as if the gamemakers rubbed me through a grater.

“No, you didn’t. In the games all you did was ask what happened to Marvel. You never talked about it when he told you he got to you in time. You just assumed he meant saving your life”

“Drop it”

“No. Talk to him about it. It didn’t happen”

“Your pussy didn’t hurt for a week!”, I shout into his stupefied face pushing him away from me and stomping to the kitchen to grab another bottle now that mine were empty.

Haymitch is on me in seconds.

“Look, we can drink ourselves blue, but go sit. Get warm. I’ve got this. We’re going to talk about this. Now”

I resign myself to listen, my body already wracked with physical exhaustion. I didn’t want to deal with the emotional draining this topic required. I curl back up under the soft covers, staring into the flames, wishing they’d swallow me whole. The one person I swore to protect, I’d violated. Yet he’d come here looking for me worried about my mental health. Haymitch has made me a hot toddy and it warms my whole body with each sip.

“You were right you know”

“I always am” he huffed indignantly

“I could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve him”

“I was being bitter when I said that”

“Still true”

“Never was. You underestimate him as a man and that’s your problem. I know you’re healing; you’re growing. We all are. But you need to accept that he is a man now. Peeta is fully aware of the consequences to all of the choices you two make. Respect him by accepting that”

“I know full well what an amazing person Peeta is”

“Clearly. I said as a man. If you’re dry humping him in your dreams, might as well accept that you love him too. No point in fighting it sweetheart. Truth be told, I thought this happened years ago”

“Haymitch!”

Either the liquor was kicking in or he just was feeling unusually open today. We never really discussed my private life with Peeta sleeping at my place or me at his. I did feel quite loose but I didn’t feel safe. I eyed the chair warily but decided I would need his scent to sleep comfortably. I dragged the comforter up with me and curled into the plush armchair Peeta always sat in, burying my nose in the arm cushion. It smelled just like him. Bread, butter, whiskey and honeysuckle.

“You love him and it’s time to accept it. Even if you were just friends, you don’t think you owe him a conversation about what happened? No matter how in denial you are about what happened in your games”

“I’m scared”, I admit with a tremble as my body sags further into the chair.

I’d only slept for 2 hours at Peeta’s and I was exhausted, the liquor snatching the rest of my energy that his comforting scent hadn’t. I’d been comfortable pretending to believe the lie without ever having to discuss it.

“You’ll get over it” Haymitch snorts tucking the blanket in tighter around me

I feel a kiss to my forehead before I’m out.

***

Haymitch slipped some morphling in your drink. It was easy to get you to listen when he slipped you some after coming down from a manic episode as your sanity lapsed sometimes. It still happened to him sometimes too. It bothered him that you’d felt this way for 5 years but, hopefully you and Peeta would work that out.

Speaking of which.

Haymitch made his way 5 houses down, not bothering to knock as he strolled into Peeta’s kitchen. He’d been up all night worried about you. It was clear because there was fresh baked bread, rolls and bagels all over the counters. Haymitch pocketed 2 rolls clearly made from District 4’s tropical ingredients. Finnick must have sent some over. He grabbed a loaf of raisin bread that had to have come out recently because it was steaming. Peeta looked up from the sink hearing Haymitch crunch on a bear-claw behind him noisily. He quickly dropped the pan he’d been holding and darted over, his wide brown eyes full of worry.

“Is she ok?”

“You are free to come and pick up your delightful cinnamon roll at your leisure. She’s passed out in your chair. Again”

“Did...did you slip her morphling?”

“Didn’t have much choice after the nonsense she was talking”

“What do you mean?”

Peeta removed his apron and slipped on a hoodie, following Haymitch down the front stairs. Haymitch stopped and let out a sigh that seemed like it weighed his entire spirit down.

“She thinks she molested you. And that Marvel raped her”

Now it was Peeta’s turn to recoil.

“What?”

“Exactly”

It would take at least 6 hours for the morphling to wear off but Peeta was nothing if he wasn’t patient. He waited 11 years just to be noticed by you. He could wait a few more hours to clear this up and truly make you his. He made his way into Haymitch’s living room to see you passed out on his lounge. Nuzzling your nose deep into the cushions to feel as if you were surrounded by his natural smell. This brought Peeta some comfort. You still only wore one of his t-shirts and a pair of boxershorts, but it was clear you’d been out hunting. There were still some leaves in your long, dark curls. There were still some leaves in your long, dark curls. He plucked them out and ran his fingers through them tenderly.

“Sorry about this”

“Don’t be. Just...work this out. Today”

“I will”

Peeta scooped you into his arms with ease, blanket and all, carrying you to his home and lying you down back in the bed. He had at least an hour before you began to fight at the morphling, realizing you were alone.

He had to find that tape.

Then he'd have to wake up an old ally. Hopefully he'd have time for him right now.

It took about 20 minutes of fumbling through the large box from when Effie had sent the previous victor tapes over for the Quarter Quell but he finally found it. It took another 20 minutes to split the particularly unpleasant angles out, Peeta grit his teeth angrily trying to keep his head together as his rage threatened to consume him. Beetee helped him through it, talking deeply and gently through their breathing and processing techniques. Once he had the tape together he took it into the bedroom and lay it on the nightstand. Watching you sleep for a little bit, wanting to climb in beside you so bad.

A few hours of indulgence couldn't hurt.

[madwomansapologist]

AUTUMN THUNDERSTORM | CHAPTER 2 — A CALL TO MOTION

check it on ao3! ★ check the pinterest board! ★ check the playlist!

thranduil thought the recent attack of spiders on a periphery village was the only thing deserving of his attention. if he could've imagined what he would found there, who he would found there, the elvenking would wait a millenia in front of that river so he could see you sooner. or: how gandalf managed to keep a secret for 14 months.

The frigid shore wasn’t that different from the frozen river. Dirtier, but as static under your feet as ice. Or maybe the earth was warm. Maybe it’s gentle and caring. Maybe earth’s as it has always been and you’re the one whose now frost. It finally happened: your lack of control, your lack of knowledge, turned your blessing into a curse. 

As you walked into the shore, gravel crunching beneath your feet, the freedom of being amid danger was nothing compared to the cold. Looking down, your numb feet turned white. Your blood was not circulating. The valley sunk into the mist coming from your gelid skin.

Thranduil managed to find his voice when tremors overtook your winning smile, giving in to a king's first nature: to command. “Prepare a hot bath. Forthwith.” His steward hurried to the inn.

He took a step forward. As his foot touched the icy ground, he understood what attracted Gandalf’s attention. What about you made him keep coming back to more. 

Thranduil understands. And now, with that knowledge, Thranduil chose to get closer to you. “Vendë,” Thranduil spoke softly. “The river wouldn’t affect us. Why did you put yourself in danger?”

Still reeling from adrenaline, for a moment you forgot that the man in front of you was a king. He was just a man, a kind one, asking a question. “I would’ve felt bad if I didn’t.”

Elvenking speechless. Analyzing your eyes, searching for some hidden lie, Thranduil didn’t notice his improper behavior. Staring, he allowed the truth to sink in.

You noticed it and it reminded you of who Thranduil was. Did you say something you shouldn’t? You should’ve called him king, shouldn’t you? Or maybe he was waiting for a formality that you don’t know how to perform.

Staring into his ocean blue eyes, you bowed. A stiff move due to your throbbing muscles but it was the best you could do.

Blankets were thrown over your shoulders. Aerin rubbed them against your body, helping to ward off the cold. “You are wetting the king’s feet. Apologize.”

“I am sorry”, you obeyed her without questioning. Aerin may not be the kindest person in the world but she takes care of you. When Aerin says you should be sorry, you believe her. You didn’t even look down to see if she was right.

Before Thranduil could say anything, Aerin guided you into the inn. “Poor thing. Let’s make sure you don’t get a cold.”

Gildor approached. “I bet your grace didn’t imagine your night would end that way.”

“No.” Thranduil was not sure about what surprised him more. Your bravery, or the reason behind it. “I did not”, he whispered to himself, staring at his dry boots.

You felt Aerin’s hands trembling as she helped you into the tub. The fervid water was exactly what you needed. Plunged into boiling water, you forgot everything that wasn’t warmth and twin suns and fire.

Aerin left you to finish your bath with some privacy after you promised her not to sleep on the tub. Minutes later she woke you up, complaining that you could’ve drowned, and helped you stumble on your way to your bed.

Even alone, with everyone else deep asleep, Aerin didn’t stop shaking.

She had one task. Gandalf made sure she would understand it. Aerin had only one thing to do: make sure you stay with her, away from danger. She saw how the Elvenking gazed at you, the innumerable questions in need of answers hidden within his eyes. Since when does a king not get what he wishes for?

Aerin had only one task to fulfill, and now she has a problem.

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Shattering glass woke him up. Thranduil rose, hand around the hem of his longsword. Illuminated by moonlight, he stepped out of his chamber and followed the sound. 

All he found was you, on your knees, picking up broken shards in a messy kitchen. Overturned pans, open jars, a mixture of spices in the air. A supper was served earlier but you looked like you wanted to have one more just for yourself.

“Did I wake you up?” You murmured, tiredness almost palpable on your voice. That wasn’t the only thing he could sense. Thranduil heard your hesitation.  “It was an accident.”

Thranduil laid his sword on the table, the ghost of a smile appearing on his face. He knelt in front of you, picking up the shards of what was once a cup. He could feel the warmth of your breath. “Have you heard many stories about Woodland’s elves, vendë?”

“I had, your grace.” Vendë. That made you feel warm inside. Most people call you Lossëistar. Has someone ever called you maiden before?

“And what did you hear?”

Your smile faded. “That most of you descend from ancient tribes that never went to Faerie in the West. That your magic is strong. That your folk are more dangerous between the elves. And less wise.”

“Do I look more dangerous and less wise?” Thranduil asked, husky voice sending shivers down your spine.

You felt tempted to agree. Thranduil probably is dangerous, simply not in a way you should be worried about. You shook your head with a genuine smile. “I cannot even remember the last time someone called me by my name.”

That made Thranduil bite his tongue. Distrust is his second nature but something tells him you are not a bad person. People could have been nicer to you. “Then stop apologizing. You did nothing wrong tonight.”

Without paying attention to what you were doing, you took the shards from his hand and left them in a box with some garbage. 

Thranduil circled the table, candles enlightening his golden hair. There is something alluring about elves' hair. They simply drew attention. His seems to be so soft. You forced yourself to look away.

That was your chance to shut up and not embarrass yourself in front of a king. “Is it true your kind live inside the threes?”

Thranduil slowed down his pace. “It is.”

“You can decrease in stature?”

Thranduil laughed. You must be entirely wrong to get that reaction from him. “Our trees are bigger than you think.”

“It must be a large forest, then.”

You sat back in front of your improvised supper and went back to eating. Until you dropped your cup, you’d been eating for almost half an hour. You offered him food, Thranduil shook his head and sat across from you.

“How can I explain this to you?” He held his sword. Thranduil slid his fingers along the hem, looking for a way to make you see the correct image. “Imagine a bird house. Instead of birds, it is filled with elves. And instead of lean wood, it is made of ancestral trees bigger than villages. And instead of a simple construction, it is a king's palace.”

You swallowed the food. “Termite isn’t a problem? Or is the wood magic?”

“Three minutes of conversation and you were more creative than half my generals”, Thranduil wasn’t complaining. Not about you, at least. “It can be impolite, it probably is, but how many stomachs do you have?”

“It is, but I don’t mind”, your honesty attacked again. “When I do big things, I can get exhausted. And hungry. So hungry.”

“Do you tend to do big things, vendë?” Thranduil looked out the window, seeing the huge frozen wave. To call it a big thing... what a euphemism. “It didn’t look like a first time.”

“That dam is a recurrent problem”, you ate more before continuing. “I normally only do big things. It is easier.” Thranduil’s curious gaze made you talk more. “I couldn’t freeze a cup of water if my life depended on it.”

Thranduil was intrigued. How can someone that does things like that face hardship on such an easier task? “Gandalf doesn’t mentor you?”

“No, he’s a friend. Wait. Do you know him?” A yawn escaped your mouth. “He was here this morning.”

Thranduil arched his eyebrows. At the meeting, Gandalf said he had traveled far and wide. Why did he lie? Why would he need to lie about something this small?

Thranduil wished he had a closer relationship with the inconvenient pilgrim. Perhaps he would understand the reason for such a small lie. But maybe you are the answer he desires. Maybe it’s you that can make him understand why the man respected throughout the continent decided to be unfaithful. “You work for lady Aerin?”

“I take care of the horses.” You pointed in the direction of the stable. “I also help lady Aerin with her garden but because I am the reason for them to crush her flowers. When I arrived earlier, my heart almost stopped because of an elk on the stable. He let me pet him and even stole an apple from my basket.”

“My elk is a burglar.” Thranduil smirked.

When you let another yawn escape, Thranduil noticed how he lost track of time. It has been long since someone talked to him about things that don’t matter. Conversations beyond council meetings about the possibility of the Enemy still alive, assemblies about his army organization, political discussions that led to nowhere. Something beyond flatterers and cowards without motive. A real conversation.

It has been long since Thranduil laughed without fear of appearing disrespectful. Or tried to find a dumb functional comparison instead of powerful yet useless phrases to describe his kingdom. Or discovered that apparently people think that Woodland’s elves can decrease in stature to live inside trees.

“Enjoy the rest of your night, tîrwen.”

“Same to you, your grace.” You watched the Elvenking disappearing in the hall. “Tîrwen”, you let the word run over your tongue. “I don’t know this one.”

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By the beginning of the morning, Aerin made her way to the kitchen. Such was Aerin's astonishment when she saw that not only was her pantry attacked but the person responsible for such a crime was sleeping on the table.

Part of your face was dipped in what looked like a mixture between oatmeal, cherry pie and roast pork. Her disgust at your choices was greater than her anger at seeing the mess.

“You behave like a child. A toddler, even!” Your hair smelled of cherry, your mouth stank of pork, and what smeared your face was oatmeal. Aerin was laughing more than anything.

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“Orange leaf, anise and lemongrass,” you murmured to yourself, feathering the straw basket with an old cloth. “Anything else?”

Aerin handed you a pot of honey and a jar of strawberries. “Milk. And sage.” She folded a cloth and covered the basket. “Don’t forget to eat. I don’t want you passing out.”

“Sage?” You arch your eyebrows. “At this time of the year?”

“I need it for a recipe”, Aerin lied. “If you cannot find it in the village, gather their buds in the meadow. Do you remember where sage sprouts?”

You sighed. After sleeping for most of the day (and eating for most of the dawn), you weren’t excited about walking all the way down to the village. You could feel a migraine forming right behind your eyes. Considering summer has already begun to say goodbye, the chances that you’ll need to enter the meadow are great.

Aerin felt guilty for making you walk so much but it was for a good cause. The longer you’re away, the less the chances you’d draw more attention to yourself. “Good riddance”, she said.

All horses were rented for the repairs to the dam. Walking down the valley on the long path towards the village you passed through many wagons carrying wood and workers. Many elves thanked you, with words or kind gazes. There was no need for it.

To stop the water exhausted you but it didn’t maim you. To let tons of water fall right into the village, aiming and drowning hundreds of people, just so you don’t get tired? That would be perverse.

And even if it could’ve harmed you, you would’ve done it anyway. You owe this to them. No one here had any obligation to have helped you and yet they did. Aerin did. You owe it to her. You owe her so much.

Alone with your mind, things that you wish to forget came back to haunt you. Every elven that thanked you, that smiled towards you, that called you a thalieth: as if a heroine could collect that many debts. It all reminds you of how you got there.

Trees shuddering with roars of wind. Rain dripping on your face, dirt beneath your nails and inside your clothes. Caged inside a suffering beast. It was wet, dark and frightening. So loud. All you could sense was a distant light, legs sore as you wandered towards it. Out of the woods, you collapsed on Aerin’s doorstep.

Your first memory starts with a dark forest and its overbearing thunderstorm. It’d been a long time since you thought about it. About what happened fourteen months ago. A lonely memory but it kept you company on your little journey.

After the mental scourge, you made it to the village’s core. You roamed the fair, way more tumultuous than usual, seeking Aerin’s orders. There were whispers about the Elvenking’s frightening presence. About how his army could burn cities to the ground with a command. 

That made you chuckle. You heard stories about Mirkwood, but now they don’t seem so legit. You don’t think a cruel lord would compare his palace to a birdhouse. 

You chatted with the elves, tried a better price for the things you wanted, discovered that no one had sage. And little by little that gray cloud that stalked you disappeared. 

“Are you sure you don’t have sage? Or anything that looks like it?” You begged the tradeswoman at the last stall. “Honestly I can work with anything green…ish.”

She laughed and told you to just go into the meadow. At the village entrance, where there weren’t a lot of people around, you started running. If you get to the sage’s buds soon, maybe you can take a nap. 

You crossed the path and went down an embankment, dirt soiling your dress. A bit of mud wouldn’t make much of a difference. As you advanced, the weight of your body on the angled ground turned your steps into slips. Laughing with yourself, you dropped your basket on a fallen log and reached for the crimson ribbon you dropped.

“As a foreigner I may be wrong but I am sure that isn’t a path for a lady.”

You dropped the ribbon into the mud. You turned around, a hand up on your chest, and saw the slim figure leaning on a tree. “Does your grace desire to see me dead?”

Thranduil moved towards you, slowly decreasing the distance between you both. “I saw you running, vendë.” There was something that resembled a smile on his face. “Thought you were a damsel in distress.”

“Damsel in distress?”

Something burned inside Thranduil’s chest. “Not in need of help?”

“Lady Aerin demands sage.” You tucked your hair behind your ears, watching the ribbon float in a mud puddle. “Not a task that requires a king’s escort.”

Thranduil stood in front of you. You had to lift your face to look him in the eye. How alluring. Like a river current that hides treasures while fending any intruders. “...could leave a lady alone in such an environment?”

Ashamed for not listening to most of what he said, you nodded and guided Thranduil into the field. Following footprints that showed a familiar path, you made your way through natural plantations. Sunlight began to irritate your eyes.

“Have you managed to rest, vendë?”

“I took a nap.” You tried your best to sound energetic.

“You should’ve been resting”, Thranduil stated. “And Lady Aerin should’ve sent her son to do her chores.”

“I appreciate it, your grace, but there is no need to defend me from her.” You rubbed your hands against the basket. “Lady Aerin has done more for me than anyone ever did, and for that I will always be grateful. I have a debt with her, one that nothing will ever pay. She may not be the kindest but she isn’t wicked.”

Thranduil said nothing more. 

You guided him into a wheat field. Leaves tickled your arms; you ran your hands through the wheat as you walked. The breeze played with the sprouts, and you like to imagine it was the field breathing in and out.

“You are more tender than me.”

You turned your head to look at him, hands playing with leaves. “Do you consider yourself resentful?” You covered your eyes, protecting yourself from the sunlight so you could see him.

“I do”, Thranduil whispered. It sounded like a secret. “My anger can be inconsolable.”

“You were injured, weren’t you?” You decided to get closer to him. A shadow, almost like sent from above just for you, made you able to see his eyes. Not rivers. They had storms caged inside it. You felt the urge to take his face into your hands.

His calloused hand reached up to caress his face, Thranduil stopped the involuntary instinct. “I envy those who grew kind.”

“It’s easy to grow kind”, you gave him your brightest smile. “But to become kind? Oh, this is noble.”

All the Elvenking could hear was his heartbeat. There was a sparkle in your eyes. A certain sort of calculated innocence that only a person who suffered can manifest. It was like you had lived an infinite number of lives before. “You are… sharp.” 

“Not at all”, your bright smile turned into a giggle. You took a step back, suddenly aware of how close you both were.

“Yes, you are.” Thranduil’s solemn expression got softer. “Maenwë.”

“What does that mean?”

“You don’t know elvish?”

“I know a few expressions.” You went back to walk through the field. Thranduil followed you. “Alassëa rá. Alassë’ arin. Alassë’ aurë.”

“Three different ways to say good morning”, Thranduil chortle. “Practically fluent.”

“Ouch!” You put your hand on your chest, pretending to be offended. “I thought kings were supposed to be polite and pleasant.” 

Within a couple of minutes, you found the place where the sage grows. Analyzing every branch, you tried to distinguish all plants growing there. Your basket was already filled with jars and paper bags but you found a way to make them fit inside it.

You covered everything with a thick cloth and rose from the ground. “Lady Aerin sorted strawbe…”

A howl shut you up.

Thranduil held his sword, not drawing it from its scabbard yet. It was a total change. The relaxed countenance became as hard as stone. His long body became more aware of space. His eyes scanned the meadow, you knew what he was looking for.

“There are no wolves in Rivendell”, you said.

Another howl announced times have changed.

“Stand behind me. You’ll step where I do and nowhere else. You won’t talk, won’t scream, won’t whisper.” That was not Thranduil’s voice. Not the one you know. It was husky, concentrated, immediate. Each order evokes a clear meaning: the best you can do is obey. It was king talking. 

“Do as I say”, the Elvenking reached out to you. “Trust me, maenwë.”

Thranduil walked fast, analyzing the ground before stepping on it, holding your hand tightly so that nothing could separate you from him. You followed him as best you could, the basket weighing on your left arm. The howls got louder.

You only saw it when it was right in front of you.

It was twice your height. The claws could cut through wood. Its fangs were bigger than your hands. You read books about it but no draft could ever translate the fear they emanated. A giant wolf. As smart as human, and as malevolent as the most corrupt of them. A warg.

Thranduil pulled you behind him, you remember the gleam of the longsword and the weight of his hand on your belly. A black shadow filled your vision. It all happened so fast. A howl, an illusion of movement, and a blur covering your eyes.

It wasn’t until you felt the golden hair falling on your face that you understood: not a blur, it was an attack. Lying on the ground, a deep pressure on your shoulder kept you down.

Your head fell to the side. Moist grass and a mess that once was a filled basket came into focus. You were awake again, and your eyes saw beyond the mess in front of your face. You saw the warg giant body. And you saw his decapitated head.

“Maenwë”, you recognized Thranduil’s voice, and within time you saw his face. He was holding you in his arms. There was blood on his cheek. And when you looked down, you saw blood dripping from your shoulder. “Keep talking to me.”

Darkness took over your vision. It was so calm, so warm. You let it envelop you. “It feels cold.”

next chapter!

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